Hide & Seek (Larry Stylinson AU)

HARRY'S POV I remember the night they took me away. "Sit down. Shut up and don't breathe unless I tell you to." The man dressed in white but whose loyalties lie with Satan, barked the order at me like I was a savage. I crouched in the uncomfortable and cramped seat loosely bolted at the back of the van. I was cold from the steel that was in direct contact with my skin, a layer of sensitive flesh that had just recently exposed to the harsh temperatures outside. My back was bent and my feet were bare on the scratched floor. The door slammed shut and was locked from without, I remember there being no windows for me to admire the last scenery I'd ever lay eyes on. I didn't bother though. Louis' face was fresh in my mind at that time, the way he looked at me when they wouldn't let him say goodbye. I'd get my revenge on them one fine day. "You okay back there, Styles?" The driver who wasn't Hell's slave asked from the front with a smile. When I didn't reply he fellssilent and keyed in the ignition before the van hummed to life. "Wave goodbye, Styles." One of them muttered. "It's the last time you'll see each other." Louis. My head instantly shot up but it was too late because we'd already entered traffic, Louis was behind us. I covered my ears with my fingers splayed out in my hair. I gripped it tightly in an effort to loosen the tension and agitation I felt. I didn't want to be taken away. I'd stop hurting people if they had let me stay. Everyday I'd relive the memory of that night. The worst night of my existance. Now, I flip the pen in my hand in an elliptical motion. Dear Louis I'll begin by expressing my deep sadness at your lack of response to my letters. I've been writing to you for a week now from this dungeon, why won't you write back? I want to see you, but I know that, however unlikely, if you pay me a visit I won't have a thing to say. It's lonely here. At night I can hear the guards walking up and down the halls with their noisy keys. It's really quite a bother. It's very dark, no different from walking around blind. I wish you'd write back, maybe then I won't feel so uneasy. I know you think about what happened that night, one week ago in your room. So do I. I sit here, caged and hidden behind prison fences, while I worry relentlessly about you out there. I wish you'd write back, so that I will know you're safe. The authorities won't let me out. They say I have a choice between here and prison for the rest of my life. But I'm not staying. How can I? Worrying about you is driving me insane. If you don't write back I'll come find you. I promise. Yours, Harry *NARRATOR'S POV* Jeff refolds the neat white, stiff paper and slips it back into the envelope from whence it hailed. He opens his first desk drawer to pull out the bunch of previously mailed letters and tucking this one into the crumbled collection. Someone knocks on his door. "Sheriff?" "Yeah. Donald?" He looks up after dropping the stack onto his lap so that his trainee doesn't see it. "I'm going out for doughnuts. You want in?" "Yeah. Sure." He smiles and stands with the bunch of paper sheets. He'd have to give them to Louis at one point, or risk his sheer disappointment in the end. Louis never spoke about Harry or the night they'd discovered them in his room. It was like a secret shared between just two souls, knitted together by this single thread and faucet of their past. Jeff saw something in Louis he'd never mistake for anything else ever, and the way Harry looked at Louis. It was full of hope, of admiration. *LOUIS' POV "Louis?" Phoebe knocks on my bedroom door drawing me out of the depths of my whirlpool imagination. "Yeah?" I swivel in my chair to look at her. "Can you help me?" She approaches me clutching her favorite brown teddy bear donning a pink shirt. "His eye is hurt." "And how did that happen?" I ask with a suspicious raised brow. She shrugs with a giggle. "He fell down the stairs." "Were you two fighting again?" "No." She crosses her arms on my lap after I take the sad stuffed creature from her. "So can you fix him?" "Sure." I reach for the super glue in my tool box and apply a small drop to the flat head before reattaching it to the bear in line with the other eye. "Thank you!" She kisses my cheek gratefully. "Now be gentle with him because his eye needs to heal." "I have an eye patch." "That will do just fine." I flick her braided hair. "Lou?" "Hmm?" "Do you have to leave?" I suck in a deep breath and avoid her innocent stare as she awaits an answer. I'd decided two days ago that staying in Middleston wasn't going to be a healthy choice, not since............since Harry left. I swallow. That night is still fresh in my memory and I doubt it will ever expire. I never want it to, even if Harry and I never cross paths again. "I'm sorry, Phoebe. I have to." I say patting her hair down with my palm. "When will you come back?" I drag in a deep breath. "I can't promise it'll be soon." She looks up at me with glassy eyes, red-rimmed and wipes her nose with her robe sleeve. Without a warning she wraps her tiny arms around my neck in a weak hug and I hold her tightly in a warm embrace. My baby sister. "You'll be okay without me?" I kiss her hair. "No." She sniffles. "You will be." I tap her button nose with my index. "You're as strong as I am." "Truly?" "Truly." I tuck a few blonde hair strands behind her ear. "So, will you help me with my bags?" "Yes but I'll walk really slow because then you won't have to go right away." I laugh at her sweetness. "I do, sweetheart. You'll understand soon enough." I get off my chair and grab the last duffel bag - the one I'd taken up with me to Lost Lake - slinging the strap over my shoulder. Phoebe holds my hand and her teddy bear, with my cellphone. I dump the bags in the back seat and Hanayen comes running out the door. I feel a pang of regret at this decision. I didn't want to remember this town, but I knew I'd never forget one individual. "Hanayen will keep you safe." I bend to give Phoebe one last hug. "But if you need me. Ever. Call and I'll come running." "Promise?" "Pinky promise." She knots her frail finger with mine. I ruffle Hanayen's fur when Dad walks out onto the walkway. He shuffles over into close range. "Good luck, son." He says with a hand on my shoulder. "Be safe. Call if you need anything." "Thanks, Dad." I allow myself one brief hug for everyone before climbing into my car. "Good luck, Rosie." I smile politely to the new housekeeper and nanny dad hired for the maintenance of the house since his office now called for more blood, sweat and tears on their premises. I had enough savings to rent myself an apartment up in Dynasville plus Dad promised to help out if I ever needed it. It was a quiet town far away from Middleston but had enough communication with the outside world to allow proper trading inventory and service delivery within state lines. My phone buzzes on the seat beside me. "Yeah?" I answer after hitting accept. "Hey, Louis. Could you swing by the station one second?" It's Jeff. "I was just leaving-" "I know. I didn't get to say my goodbye." I roll my eyes. "Alright. I'll be there in three." He hangs up before I do and I drive in silence to the Middleston Police Department. People are standing idle at the base of the concrete steps. They rotate their heads to aim their dagger-sharp glares at me when the sound of my car door closing travels through the thick, dry air. I suck in a deep breath and walk up to the sidewalk. I feel my back receiving hateful and some disgusted arrows of emotions from those I walk past. Word of the night Harry got taken away spread like wildfire on a dry day in this ghost town, and my name never failed to disgrace our family name in each one. By Wednesday there were rumors of Harry never existing in the first place, chatty old women conjured up the lie that Harry was a kid who died years before when his entire family did. It was all very pathetic and annoying to me. Harry was real. He is the personification of terror, but he is real. I allow my mind to draw me back in time, to the night it all happened. I found out my new self, and at the same time lost what brought out the truth. The light hurt my eyes. Stepping outside onto the lawn at midnight was a decision with blatant disregard for the cold, but I did it anyway. Red and blue. The lights flickered like the warning signals on a train track. The white van was long gone, and so was Harry. I didn't dare say goodbye. How does one say goodbye in a circumstance like this? So I let it be and now I feel suffocated and abandoned. Odd feelings for a guy who just wanted to survive the night. My stature was more leaning than it usually was, compliments of a scissoring pain that resided in my lower region. "Louis? You okay?" Jeff was trying to be sympathetic as he patted my shoulder. I appreciated his concern, though I did not want it. "Fine." I answer and a huff of white tendrils whisper in the air. Everything seems so much louder, bigger and much more frightening. The weeping and swaying of drooping willows looked more like a woman who'd had her throat slit and was leaning over as death became her. I had goosebumps from the chilly night but didn't care to cover up. "Where's your dad?" As if on cue a rusting relic of a car rolls up the driver and out jumps Dad with Phoebe. He looks around frantically at the ambulance and police patrol cars before hurrying over to us. "What the Hell happened?" He asks holding my sister's hand. I say nothing and Phoebe drops my father's hand hold mine. I give her a wry smile with no meaning and she stretches her arms in a request for me to carry her. "We better talk in private." Jeff says to my father. I lift Phoebe off the ground and she clings to my side. She offered the warmth of another person, but not the warmth I craved silently. Jeffrey and my dad stood speaking in hushed tones in our kitchen while I took Phoebe upstairs to bathe and get ready for bed. I didn't enter my room, but I found myself staring at the bed or out the window absentmindedly. Harry's clothes were still on the floor. His trench coat, shoes, pants and horrid black T-shirt were strewn across my room. I'd handle them later. "I'm done!" Phoebe announces and I go in to hand her a towel. "What's wrong?" She asks when I prop her up on my hip and carry her into her room wrapped in a towel. "Nothing." I answer. "When I'm big enough, will you tell me?" I smile. "Sure." This seems to satisfy her and she dots around the room getting dressed while I eavesdrop on the conversation downstairs. Without showering I put on a clean shirt and pants, before going down to join the avid discussion. "Thanks, Officer." My dad closes the front door after greeting Jeff. He turns to me. "Got anything to say?" Not to him I didn't. "No." "Louis, we should talk about this." He follows me into the kitchen. "There's nothing to talk about. I'm fine. You're fine. Phoebe's fine. Everything's fucking fine." My dad never minded my language, because I never cursed in front of Phoebe. "I'm not going to antagonize you then." I sigh looking at him with a great deal of irritation. I respected my father because he was fair and never really earned my rudeness. "I got a promotion today." He decides to switch the channel. I smile a little in celebration for him. "Bigger pay?" "Way bigger. You can go to college." My eyes flicker from the spoon in my hand to the bowl on the counter. I'd forgotten what I was going to do. "I'd like that." I say. I snap out my reverie in time to avoid banging my hip against an officer's work station. "Jeff?" I knock on his new office door. "Hey, Louis." He stands and motions for me to step inside before closing the door. "Word is that you're skipping town." "Yeah. Not much to stick around and do anymore." Jeff's eyebrows knit together in a twisted frown. "Where you planning on going?" "Dynasville." It's not far away but it's far enough. "Dynasville?" He questions the word. "Really noisy town." I shrug. I didn't give a fuck about his opinions recently. "I um....have something to give you." He drops his gaze to a drawer in his table. "More like somethings" I grow curious and sit up in my chair. After a bit of shuffling he hands me a stack of taped white envelopes. I read the name on the top one, obviously the most recent of the pile, and stop breathing. "These are for me." I state. "From him." "Yes, they are." He laces his chubby fingers together. "Why didn't I get them then?!" I stand up suddenly fueled by an ominous anger. "Because I wasn't sure on whether that would be a good idea or not." "They're my damn letters! You had no right to keep them." I snap. "I know and I'm sorry, Louis. I thought you needed time and distance. You're like a son to me." I stand leaning against the wall with sharpened anger. No one knew what this felt like yet they all conveniently chose to try and understand it. "Harry isn't allowed any visits, Louis." Jeff says as if reading my future thoughts. "He's locked up for good in Psychera." Psychera was an institution of rehabilitation a good hundred miles away from Middleston. Even farther away from Dynasville. "I know." I sigh. "See you around, Jeff. Thanks for the letters." I reach for the handle and notice the repaired window, but don't stop to study it as I walk out into the buzzing station. HARRY'S POV I fling the paper cup with so much force at the cement pillar that it's volume is reduced to that of a die. It's contents are spilt all over the officer's uniform and though he is paid to not do us harm, he shoots me a deathly glare before trudging up to my chair. "Let's go, Styles." He hauls me to my feet before I can protest and drags me away from the table. The occupants of which just stare into space like idiots from another galaxy, I'd narrowly escaped another round of Who Took My Spoon? I let this pot-bellied person take me to my room and lock me inside its confines. Everyday at lunch and supper I'd make a spectacle of myself so that I may be brought back to be alone. It fell into a pitiful routine. "Dan?" I call to the guard I knew was standing outside my door. "What, Styles?" He answers. "Got the time?" "Eleven thirty." Almost eight days. I make a correlating mark on the wall beside the window with bars to prevent me from escaping. Eight whole days I've been away from Middleston. From my home. From Louis. I'd thought this would do good for me, but it became unbearable every night when I went to asleep alone and could think of nothing but Louis' voice. Sometimes I could hear it and I'd pretend he was here with me. A horrid scraping of nails on steel cuts off my wandering memory and I cover my ears, crumbling to the ground helplessly. "Stop!" I scream. It was of no use, when Mother came no one else could hear her. She hovers in the corner of the room, her black dress torn and ripped at odds to her pale skin. Her bare, blue feet do not touch the ground and her greasy locks of patched hair conceal her visage One glorified and unjust swipe of her hand turns my head to the left in pain, my cheek turning red and static from the impact of her tight slap. I do not open my mouth, I would not fight a battle that would ruin me. I could see the corner of her mouth curved in a venomous grin, revealing few of her blackening teeth. She'd turned more cold and cruel these past few days. "God damn it. Stop!" I shout painfully high to get my pitch higher than the torturing sound. Her head shoots up from staring at the ground, to stare at me with blazing page white eyes and her mouth in a grim line. Scientifically, DNA could be extracted from the eyeballs of a corpse but my mother's held no trace of an identity anymore. They were narrow and empty, chilling to the onlooker and void of emotional expression. Lonely. Are you, son? I ignore her. She was only goading me into saying something horrible about myself or what I'd done. I don't regret Louis, I don't resent that night. I told you he would hurt you. She floats closer to me and tilts my chin up to look at her. Her skin was paper-like and thin, tiny veins now visible in her neck and cheeks. She smiles and her teeth are onyx in color; her hairline is receding and revealing a ghastly bald spot atop her head. "He didn't hurt me." I answer. "He won't hurt me." You are such a fool, Harry! My head jerks to the side when she forcefully turns it before letting go. I look up at her without fear as she raves on. Have I not been good to you? Has Gemma not been a good sister? That you want this.......pathetic boy instead. I hated her tone and I hated the way she spoke about Louis but I won't argue because we'd both have our decisions without an ounce of the will to back down. Get out of here, Harry. You don't belong here. Come home. "How do you suppose I escape, Mother?" I stand and stare at her from across the room. "I do not know!" She bellows. "You created this mess and you will fix it, Harry!" Silencing my thoughts, the back of her right hand skates painfully across my cheek leaving a red streak and tingling aftermath in its wake. I place my cold fingers to the stinging flesh in the hopes of easing the pain of her slap. With a terrifying hiss she leaves and I fall back against the wall. I was tired, and in need of REM sleep but I couldn't fall asleep anymore. The door to my cell opens and I glance up to watch it drag open slowly, no footsteps can be heard nor voices. Silence. I push against the wall with my elbow hoisting me to my feet as I near it. "Dan?" I expect an answering sound but receive nothing. The halls are empty and the slightest intake of breath on my account echoes and bounces off the claustrophobic walls. My shoes make a faint clapping sound each time I take a furthering step and round the bend down the corridor. For a moment I expect to be caught by a passing security guard or fellow patient before being sent to my room for a round of intense isolation. Sounds grow and my ears throb, turning red from the rushed and hushed exerted noise surrounding me. People's voices as they whisper secrets. Laughter after a harmless joke. Screams after an extreme accident and sobbing after a fatal calamity. They all clog and cloud my concentration while I stand there gripping my head tightly in my hands. Get out now! With stubborn noises filling my head, the corners of my forehead beginning to ache and my strength wearing away I run in a random direction towards what I hope is the door. I scream to counter the horrible invasion of my mind and my hands turn up soiled red in my vision. My ears are bleeding. Get out, Harry! Her voice is a traitorous hiss that has me fumbling for any sense of logic as I aimlessly hurry about seeking freedom. Follow me. This way.

Notes

First things first my lovelies: Harry isn't schizophrenic. Gemma and his mother are indeed ghosts. I have a question! To those who did read my smut: What did you guys think? O.o It was my first time and I really didn't want it to suck. And this is my first update in a while *sigh* let me know what you think pweez ;) Next update is tomorrow!