A/N: sorry. PS: this is how her belly is.
TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE.
7 DAYS AFTER EL DISAPPEARED
HARRY'S POV:
My eyes are tired as they open, focusing on the ceiling, and the empty feeling of the bed around me. I still sleep on one side of the bed as if she was right next to me still, as if she'd roll over in a second and curl into me. I miss that feeling. Fucking hell I miss the way she smells. I even miss her yelling at me during her stupid mood swings. The nights have started blending together somewhat. People are trying to do search parties and things like that, but there's no use in doing that. Whoever is holding her, whoever is keeping her hostage has her hidden well for the sheer purpose of getting what they want. The thing I'm not allowed to give them. They sent a picture of her.
They sent a fucking picture after a few days of silence and I swear I forgot how to fucking breath. Every bit of kindness, and calm in my body was fucking gone, all I could feel was rage. She looked unharmed, but it was obvious she had been crying, that she was beaten mentally.
Her belly was swollen, and her eyes were as well. They had her tied up, and that was the worst part for me. The sight of seeing her so helpless but knowing she's not. The sight of seeing the strongest person I know beaten down to look as though she is weak. Jeffrey didn't want to show me the picture, he tried to keep it from me, and that's half the reason I haven't fucking spoken too him. Because I don't want to fucking speak to him or anyone for that matter right now. I want my El back. I want my kids back, I want to hold her again. I want to press my lips to hers, and then get on my knees in front of her and press my lips to her belly just as I did every single morning before she was taken from me.
I know I can't stay hidden forever.I need to move from my house, I need to do something about this, but I feel so fucking helpless right now. I move through our things, moving to her stuff to try and find an old tshirt of mine that she wore, that way I can smell her, feel like she's still beside me. I grab one of the soft shirts, pulling it over me, and looking at the stacks of books on the dresser.
I can read. I can read one of her favorite books, maybe feeling somewhat closer to her as I wait here for an update from someone, anyone.... I shuffle the books from the top to the bottom, looking for one in particular but my hands freeze, my fingertips touching the black leather. Feeling the memories seep through the cover of the book. I looked back at it from time to time, searching through the pages, reliving the first time I was on tour with her, but I haven't looked at it in months. I haven't read her letter in months, and I feel the bile rise in my throat knowing this is the closest thing I have to her right now. I move quickly, sinking down on my own bathroom floor and emptying my hardly full stomach into the toilet.
I'm exhausted. I'm fucking exhausted. My sleeping patterns off, my time completely warped and transformed. I've been without her before. I've spent days, weeks, and months without El, but none of them have felt like this. Because for once in this relationship, for once in our lives together we both felt completely normal and comfortable. We had gone so long without serious fights, or break ups, or miscommunication. Since before the last tour we had been perfect, and of course her finding out about the twins was a bit rocky, but we never fell from the tracks.
I was so comfortable I didn't even think being without her was a possibility, I didn't want to... I didn't remember what it felt like being without my El. I didn't remember what it felt like, and I never experienced what it was like having someone you'd do anything for being ripped away from you without warning. Not even so much as a sign passed me by, and now she's fucking gone.
My head hangs, and my forehead presses to my arms as I grasp onto the toilet bowl, the helpless shaking in my chest not stopping. I'm so fucking scared. I'm scared that there might be a chance she won't be walking through our front door again. That I took every bit of her for granted. I know if she was to never come back I know I didn't show her I loved her enough. I know that there was so much more I could have done to give her everything she dreamed of, but I took it all for granted. I'm so fucking scared, and I tried so hard to not let that fear consume me.
I want to be hopeful and wishful in these moments, but I'm not. I feel like the biggest hypocrite right now, knowing months ago I was angered at El for this same thing. I was angered at her for giving up, for not holding hope, but right now it feels like all hope has been lost. We haven't received anything from them since the picture was sent from an IP address that lead to absolutely nothing. The police haven't found anything new either. It's like a waiting game at this point. I feel like I'm waiting for them to do something drastic to alter everything in my life more than they already have.
I try to imagine how she would be if she were here right now. What she would be doing, and I know she would be sat on the couch or the bed with her feet propped up. She would be holding a book between her nimble delicate hands, devouring every word on the page.
Watching her read is one of the most fascinating things because she can never hide her emotions when she does. She spent so long in our relationship hiding the things she was feeling, and covering every emotion with a blanket of cold, but no matter what she would always let those emotions shine through while she was reading the pages of a book. It was intriguing, and captivating, just like everything she does.
I can't get away from her either. Not that I want to be away from her that's the last thing I want but everything has her face in it, or has her name written all over it. My clothes were designed by her, my bedsheets were fucking handpicked by her, my bathroom is cluttered with her. Her clothing that she had thrown off the night before she was gone is still in the exact spot she left it, and I refuse to pick it up because sometimes it helps me fall into the illusion that she's still here. Every bit of my life is clouded with Eileen, and it makes every second of this harder. She's still alive but she's not here, her ghost is here, dancing through my room, dancing through my mind.
The worst part is the aspect of knowing nothing. The aspect of fearing if she's hurt, or if she's terrified. Fearing the life of not only her but the two lives inside of her, knowing the pregnancy was already compromised, knowing she was only three months away from her due date as it was. Everytime I think I've thought of the worst fear another one pops into my head putting the last to shame.
I feel a wet nose bumping me, and nudging me as I sit with my head down, and I look over. He's just as sad. He misses her too, and I wish it wasn't like this. I look at him, and he lays down next to me, resting his head on my leg, and looking at me with sad puppy eyes. I run my hand over his head, wishing I could bring her back just as much as he does.
"Come on buddy... Can't sit in here all day." I mumble. I pick myself up off of the floor, trying to push strength into my mind, and my hands fumble to the leatherbound book, taking it, and holding it, and staring at it, wondering if I'll have enough courage to open it. I stare for what feels like an eternity, looking at the plane black surface of the cover wondering how the hell a journal can be this fucking terrifying, but also knowing that every feeling, every single one is going to pour out of me when I look to that letter. I take a deep breath, and look forward at the wall in front of me, clenching my jaw, and sighing.
"Just open it..." I mumble to myself, and as I look down I do what I said, opening the book, and seeing the words on the page.
"To the love of my life..." Her messy but still perfect handwriting etched all over the page, and my eyes are wet, my chest already heavy. I miss her with every ounce of my being. My blurry eyes read every word, devouring her beautiful thoughts and I keep myself steady, wiping my eyes, and pressing on despite how bad it hurts, and then my breath catches, reading the last bit.
"This is to us. To our story, our struggles, our fights. This is for our love, something that will never die, even if we are apart. I love you, thank you for everything you've done." It reads, and I close it, not even bothering looking through because if I do I'll continue to dive deeper and deeper into the waves of missing her. I'll give into that pain that I know I shouldn't.
I never thought a part of me would ever say they missed that tour. That tour was agony, at least that's how I would have described it back then. I know now that the feelings I had back then didn't even come close to what I am feeling right now because this is agony, this is fucking agony, and I hope more than anything that there is relief soon. I hope that there is relief as in she comes home to me. I hope that she's alright, that she's standing strong, and that she knows I'm doing everything I can to bring her back to me. I'd live through all this agony as long as I knew that she knew that. I need my El back.. I need to more than anything right now, I can't fucking live like this anymore.
EL'S POV:
My blurry eyes adjust, only opening because of the noise blaring in my ears. Shut your emotions off El. Feel nothing, that way you won't be stressed, that way they can survive. The sound blares. They play his music. They fucking play Harry's music as fucking loud as they physically can for hours and hours on end, and they have for the past six days. They're torturing me with his voice, a voice that used to bring me every bit of calm now haunts me while I stay sat in this chair. Music means flashlight. The light turns on almost as if I cued it. The light shines on me, showing me to the two disgusting pigs that have held me here. I look at them with weak eyes, trying to show a strong face, but knowing I look weak and tired as hell.
"Rise and shine sleeping beauty." He grumbles. I don't know their names but I've noticed that the voice that just spoke belongs to the one with blue eyes, and the second voice belongs to the dark brown. I have never felt more hatred for a human in my entire life than I do for the men that stand in front of me. The thing that hurts the most is while they blast the music on a loop, blaring it in my fucking ears, they scream in them as well, barking orders, taunting me, calling me names. They force feed me, giving me whatever the hell they feel like feeding me. This is the most pain I would have ever felt if I let myself feel anything at all. I can't let myself feel anything.
"Are you going to break today? Are you going to finally fucking break?" The first man comes forward, he's in my face, but I stare blankly at him, not even hardly blinking as I look forward. "I want you to scream, and I want you to cry that way that FUCKING BOYFRIEND, will finally see you and hand over that fucking money!" He yells, his spit landing on my already sweaty features. They could at least cool it down here for me.
"You know what that means?" The other voice asks, and I want to groan, wishing this was over, tiring myself out from pushing everything away. I can't show them emotion because I can't compromise the kids. I would never forgive myself. Whether Harry sees me cry, or stare blankly into the camera he will know, he has to know how I feel, he has to know that seeing me either of those ways isn't normal for me.
I have never been one for being saved. I have never been one for letting someone take care of me but right now all I can wish is that Harry would save me. My mind is stopped when I see shiny metal, my eyes quickly snapping to the metal in his hand, the glimmering switchblade.
"Oh now we've got her attention." He mumbles, bringing the knife to my face, and I glare now, my eyes burning into the ones hidden behind a black ski mask.
"Don't fucking touch me." I mumble low, still showing nothing but a glare.
"A bite back... it's been so long since we've heard that voice of yours, we missed it angel face." His pale blue eyes brun into me through the material on his mask, and presses the knife harder causing me to move back, flinching away. "What would she do if..." He starts moving the knife down, catching on the material of the white athletic tank top, cutting the strap, the other side still holding my shirt up. I begin to panic, trying to calm myself as much as I can as the knife continues to travel down my body. The flat side is held on my stomach.
"Don't fucking touch them, don't fucking-" I start, but he points the knife now, and I try to calm my heart rate.
"Beg darling..." His voice floods my ears along with the constant blare of the music in the background, and I feel a pressure on my stomach, letting my emotions flood, not shutting anything down anymore.
"Please! Fucking please, please don't hurt them, I'll do anything please!" I scream out, trying to keep my heart rate low, but feeling my tears pour. "Please!" I shout again, and the knife falls from my belly only making my head hang, my eyes still swelling as the tears pour. "Turn it off! Turn it off please!" I scream, wishing the continuous loop of this song would turn the fuck off.
Treat People With Kindness. A track written for me, but little did Harry know it would be used to fucking torture me like this. The point of the fucking song is to be kind, and I can't fucking stand the sound of it, turn it the fuck off! "Turn it off please turn it off." I slump in the chair, and feel as though I can't breathe anymore. My chest feeling like it's caving, my mind turning to mush all at once. "Turn... turn it off." I beg, and hear laughter around me, not even looking up to see them have their fun.
"Aaannnd she's broken.. Turn the camera on." One of them instructs, their voices starting to blend together. The song cuts out, and I hear shuffling around me. My head is ripped up by my hair, and I can't help but cry out, gasping for air, and feeling cold metal to my throat. I see one of them recording, and I know the other is pressing this knife to my throat. I gasp out again. El, stop. El breathe, think of them, just keep your mind on them.
"This shit is tiring Styles... Give us the money, you get the girl, simple as that. You're running out of fucking time. I told you you'd get her back, but I never said you'd get her back the same... You think your little girlfriend is so pretty, well let's take a few fucking inches off." I feel the knife drag past my neck without a scratch, and then he roughly takes my hair in his hands, it being the longest it's been since years ago. I feel some of its weight fall as his grip loosens. He's cutting it, I can feel him cutting it, I can feel the removed pieces fall around me, and I continue to cry. "Speak to him." He barks in my ear. I flinch back, and try to calm my breathing. "I said fucking speak!" He screams now, almost shattering me as a whole.
"I'm okay! I'm okay, please... please I need you, please baby please. Bring me home please." I cry, my mind rambling along with my words. I know I sound like a frantic fucking mess, but this is it. Every emotion is out now, I can't fucking take this anymore but I have to take this. Just fucking breath. Just fucking breath and do this for them. The men walk away, crowding around the camera in front of me. I let my head hang, and after a few moments, the song starts again. Blaring in my fucking ears, and I do nothing but let out a scream. Breath El. Fucking breath. Just keep breathing.
HARRY'S POV:
I rush into the police station, Suzie, and Jeff quick on my heels as I charge in. I go straight to the first desk I see, and press my hands to the desk.
"Officer Parks? Where is officer Parks?" I ask the woman, and she points to a glass office, looking shocked, and a bit nervous at my urgency. I turn quickly, and open the glass door, barging in, seeing him sat as his desk, seeming calm, and collected. "What is it? Did you find her, did you get anything?" I ask quickly, and he motions to the chair.
"Sit down please.." He mumbles, and though I don't want to. I just want him to fucking answer me, I sit down anyway, knowing he'll speak to me calmly through all of this.
"What is it?" I ask again, and I see her mum sitting next to me in the opposing chair, Jeffrey stood behind me, his hands on the back of my chair.
"We were sent a video, but I need to warn you-" He starts, and I snap.
"I don't need a warning, show me the fucking video." I snap, and feel Jeffrey's hand on my shoulder, pulling me back in my chair.
"I will warn you.... This is graphic alright? She's not harmed, she's okay, but it might be hard for the three of you to watch." He tells me, and I motion for him to play it anyway. He turns his laptop to me, pressing play, and I want to gag, the bile rising in my throat as I see her with a knife to her throat. She's terrified, she's in pain, she's shaking... But she still has the babies... I feel myself shaking, and I feel Jeffrey's hand tighter on my shoulder as the man yells. His hands on her it makes me feel slimy. It makes my blood fucking boil, it makes my skin crawl, and I can't even imagine how she's feeling right now, I don't even want to try.
Her hair falls. Stopping right at her shoulders now, and I choke on the air in my lungs, watching her cry over the torture, hoping to god for their sake that that's all they've done to her. If they touched her in any way, if they fucking harmed her in any way I will kill them, I'll fucking murder them.
"I said fucking speak!" I jump at his anger, flinching back as he screams in her ear.
"I'm okay! I'm okay, please... please I need you, please baby please. Bring me home please." Her words ring in my ears. They're so helpless, and the video stops, going black taking the painful sight of her away from me. I can't breathe..
"Are you actually going to do something about this shit or are you just going to sit there with that same dumb look on your face, and continue to let this shit happen?" I speak in a low voice as I look up from my hands to the officer in front of me, standing as well
"Mr. Styles we are doing everything we physically can to-" He starts.
"Well it's not good enough! Do more! Try something else, fucking fix this!" I shout, and oddly enough I feel another hand on me as I stand from my chair. It's Suzie's hand, she's reaching for me. I turn to her, the crazed look in my eyes, mixing with my rugged breathing. She has tears in her eyes, but she is calm.
"Harry son, you need to take that anger and let that shit go. They're doing everything they can. She's strong, she's not sitting there without a fight... We'll get her back." She speaks calmly, and I look to her in confusion, not knowing what the hell to do, or how she can say that, how she can be so calm. Her face melts into a soft smile, and it feels like every part of me shatters, my anger melting into sadness, and my confusion turning into the same pain I felt earlier. Suzie moves to me, and she hugs me, giving me the first hug I've received since any of this happened. I hate feeling this weak, but I let it happen.
I let myself cry in her arms, feeling helpless. The awful images of El, and the sound of her rugged breathing, and screams replaying in my mind. How the hell am I going to find her? How the hell am I going to get her back?
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Song: Ghost Of You by 5SOS.
It's going to get better....
In the clever words of Harry Styles....
We'll be alright (: