Surrender to the whims of your imagination.

*NARRATOR'S POV*

Harry sat staring at the television. It was a rerun of an old English sitcom that Harry would crack up because of under any other circumstances. Now, he was just numb.
He'd made Louis angry yesterday, when he came to visit Harry. That, he seemed to never forgive himself for because he was working so hard to gain Louis' trust. He hated himself for his irresponsibility.

"Harry?" Gemma walks into the living room fully dressed and ready to go.
She was driving him to the rehab center and they were due to live......well, twenty minutes ago. He kept stalling under the insistence that Louis would come to see him off.

"Yeah?" He looks up from the box telly.

"Gotta go now, big bro." She smiles because she has to. "Looks like it could rain."

And of course it wasn't safe to drive in the rain. He was so stupid. "Sorry."

His bags were packed and stuffed into the boot of their family Hyandai. His mother would be running out with a plate of something for Harry to eat while he's there, it would just be taken away by the wardens because what one has everyone deserves.
Harry had a reasonable argument.

***
His room was tiny and had two beds, which was a cut above unsettling. Would he be having a roommate? He really wouldn't appreciate one because Harry preferred isolation. Except when Louis came to visit like he promised, of course not then.

"Like it?" Gemma drops his smallest bag onto his iron-wrought bed.

He hums mindlessly staring out the window at the gathering mist that arrived before a storm.
When would Lou be coming?

"It's twice the size of my bed if you push these two together." She offers.

"No one's coming?" Harry speaks so softly that he isn't sure his sister heard, it was fine if she didn't.

"No. Mom said she got you this room all to yourself."

He nods and sits down on the thin mattress. He thought the room was sufficient for him, almost like his own room back home. Two beds that he would not push together - sorry Gemma - because then there's more empty space. More loneliness.

Gemma sat next to him and put her head on his shoulder. They were always close, and this won't destroy their bond. She won't deny that she felt a little rejected, because all Harry did lately was ask for Louis. Louis, who was never there when he woke up crying. Louis, who had turned her brother down more than once. Louis, who Harry was irrevocably in love with.

"When's your first session?" She asks to distract herself and Harry's wandering thoughts.

"Today." He looks at his chunky watch that she got him two years back. "In an hour."

"What are you going to say?"

"Dunno." He shrugs with one shoulder so he won't shove his sister away.

"I'm sorry Mom didn't come inside."

Their mother only made it to the door before breaking into a fit of tears, Harry hugged and calmed her before saying goodbye. He was still her boy, just needed a little coaxing from a particular somebody.

"I know she didn't want to. It's fine."

*LOUIS' POV*

I hated mornings like this. The sun never came out and when my eyes finally split open I was under the illusion that I had a few more hours of sleep. Wrong. Now, I was sharing my bed with my less than discreet other half who was snoring and keeping me up.
I didn't mind though. Douglas' snores were soft and kind of rhythmic, I'd giggle when they got too loud and he'd wake up smiling. I'd watch him sleep, brushing away the hair that got in his eyes and secretly kissing spots on his face.

Douglas spent the night last night after I'd arrived home and unexpectedly found him sprawled across my bed. I was too emotionally exhausted and physically drained to do more than crawl up beside him and fall asleep after a quick kiss. He was happy to oblige.
Now, I had a lot to tell him. It's morning and I had to visit Harry in rehab in a few hours. Douglas deserved to know at the very least.

"Lou?" Douglas groans as he sleeps into consciousness, gripping Louis' waist tightly and hiding his face.

"Have to wake up now." I say softly, carding through his ruffled hair.

"Why?"

"I have somewhere to be." I bite my lip.

"Where? You didn't say before."

"I-I....It just came up yesterday."

He huffs and makes no effort to move. I roll my eyes and lightly shove his shoulder to stir him.

"Louis......no." Douglas complains and rolls over to face his back to Louis. "I want to sleep."

"You'll be here alone then."

"Fine."

"Hey!" I lightly slap his shoulder.

My breath gets knocked out of me when he grabs me and rolls me under his bigger frame. My hands are pinned to the mattress and my neck is exposed to his teeth. The comforter was an uncomfortable feeling against my sensitive arm and I tried to wriggle away but Douglas held me down.

"You know I don't mean it, Lou." He breathes against the slight dip at my collarbone. "Love me?"

"Love you." I kiss the tip of his nose and squirm about. "Douglas?"

"Hmm." He noses at my throat.

"C-Can you let go of my hand?"

"Oh. Sorry." He immediately releases my caged limb and I flex my wrist. I've always wondered why Douglas never said anything about the marks on my arm, though he saw it the most out of everyone. "Douglas?"

"Lou?" I guess it's not just Harry that calls me that. The reminder of the boy may bring a foreign beat of emotion, that puzzles and excites my selfish side. I was allowed to have that. Right?

"Do you love me?"

"Just said that, Louis."

"No but.....then why don't you....say anything?"

"About?" He looks up, his body mass propped up on his elbows as he looks down at me.
This was a horrible idea. Pathetic. "Nothing. Leave it."

"Lou, come on. Don't be upset. What did I say?"

It's what you didn't say. I shake my head and try to sit up.

"Louis."

He sighs, taking my hand and tugging me forward. I sort of hated hugging Douglas' hard chest now because it was so muscular and very uncomfortable but I did it because I loved him and that's what our love is.

"I don't ask you about these-" He doesn't bother to touch the scars on my arm, and I grimace because it feels like a toxin. "-because I know you don't want to talk about them. I don't know why you did this to yourself, love."

So he didn't want to know why? That brought me to the surprising and inevitable comparison between him and Harry once again. Harry asked in a soft - but demanding - voice what had happened, and we didn't know each other.

"Okay." My voice is teeny.

"I'll just......imagine you fell off a bike or something."

A bike? The bloody fool was satisfied with my cuts being explained as a bicycle mishap? The audacity!

Tears spring to my eyes. I thought he'd want to know, comfort me maybe? But he couldn't just settle for less than the truth. That hurt.

"Oh baby. Don't cry." He holds me close but I feel that hesitance. Only I ever could.

I don't cry, no sobs escape me. My throat's dry and my voice seems to catch in a horrid lump with my every attempt to speak. My fingers curl into stiff grip on Douglas' shoulder, my mouth slightly open to inhale oxygen and calm myself.

"You okay?" He slowly runs a path up and down my back. I felt his fingers dip at the spine and slide over the bones that could be seen if you cared to look.

I nod, taking shaky long breaths with my lips against his skin. I felt cold because of the bare skin of mine that's exposed. "I'm c-cold."

"Oh." He, for a brief moment, fumbles about in his mind for a coherent solution before engulfing me in a hug.

I sigh and accept it.


*NARRATOR'S POV* (because I'm just not ready to write in Harry's POV yet *sob*)

Harry sits in Dr. Michael's office. It's past the psyche ward and two doors into a coridoor that
gives him the creeps. It doesn't show though, already his persona for his fellow 'inmates' is that he is the bad guy with nothing to lose. Wrong.

"So, Harry. How are we today?" The licensed professional takes a seat beside him rather than at the correct side of his desk.

Harry nods, staring out the window like he has been ever since he arrived and Gemma left.
Where is Lou?

"Do you know why you're here, Harry?" Dr. Michael adjusts his coat even though it's perfectly straight.

Harry looks at him for a moment long enough to say he didn't want to answerr any questions, before turning back to the window.

"Harry. I can help you, we can help you."

Harry was sure they could, the problem arose with the hard fact that he didn't want their help.

"Waiting for him?"

This, Harry gives the doctor his attention for. With his head tilted to the side, he waits for further words.

The doctor saw hope. "What's his name?"

"How did you know?" Is Harry's first response.

"I'm your therapist, Harry. I went out on a limb."

Harry smiles for the sake of this humor and looks down at his lap. "Louis."

"That's his name?"

Harry nods.

"Did he say he was coming?"

"Yes."

"And is he late?"

Harry frowns at the fabric of his jeans. "I don't know."

"What's he like?"

"Who?"

"Your Louis."

The doctor knows that's probably the worst possible thing you can say to a recovering patient, but the glint of something happy in Harry's eye when he said it can't be mistaken. Harry was glad that someone did support them.

Your Louis, he kept thinking on a loop. Mine.

"Harry?" The doctor coughs into his fist.

"Oh. Sorry." Harry straightens his posture but there's nothing that can be done about the
prominent curve of his shoulders and back now.

"Will you tell me about Louis?"

Harry nods and smiles at the doctor's desk. Louis always made him smile. "He's perfect. For me, that is. He is perfect but I don't want other people to see it too, you know? Then they'll......"

"Try to take him away?"

Harry nods with a flinch. "Won't let it happen though."

"What do you remember about Louis?"

This, Harry cannot answer.

"Harry?"

"I don't-I don't remember."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Harry becomes fidgety and uncomfortable; crossing and uncrossing his legs, digging his nails into the chair then his lap then his own sweaty palms, biting the inside of his cheek until it bleeds and he's up and walking.

Why can't I remember? Why can't I remember Louis? He taunts himself until the doctor
decides this method of approach wasn't good and calls for the nurses.

"No. What are you doing?" Harry backs away from the men in scrubs. He didn't want them, he needed Louis.

"We're taking you back to your room, Harry." One of them say.

"Is Louis here?"

"Yes, he's waiting." He wasn't but poor Harry didn't need to know that. A sedative would rid
him of the grief.

"Okay." He goes willingly now, only because he didn't see the needle.

*LOUIS' POV*

I enter Grey Earl Rehabiliation Center at noon, scanning the reception area for someone to speak with. I came alone after Douglas had a meltdown about me coming at all, got really close to throwing a stapler at me before he stormed out.

I knew I promised my mom I'd do this, and I had a responsibility to get it done.

"Hi." I greet the tired-looking, run-down woman at the entry desk.

"Can I help you?" She puts on a practised smile.

"Yes, I uh.....am looking for someone. A patient here."

"Well, you came on time because most of 'em are in the common room. Name?"

"Harry Styles."

"Ah." She types it in and her face drops. "I'm afraid Harry is unavailable."

"Why? I was told I could visit him now."

"By who?"

"The Sheriff."

"Oh dear. Well, let me just...." She picked up her speeddial and pressed the number four.

It rang for a while before she started speaking. "Harry Styles? Yes, him.......Oh? Hold on." She looks up at me with her hand over the receiver. "Your name?"

"Louis Tomlinson."

"Louis Tomlinson." She says back to the person on the other end while I lazily browse the titles that cover the numerous pamphlets. "Oh alright then. Yeah."

I look to her for some guidance when she's done hanging up.

"You can go in. Harry's doctor says he wants to see you. Ask for Dr. Michael."

"Thanks." I tap the desk once with my fingernail before leaving towards what I deem as the common room.

"Louis, yes?" A man finds me before I start asking around. "Been expecting you. How are you?"

"Fine. Expecting me?"

"Yes, well we have a problem."

"We?"

"Louis, did Harry ask you to visit him?"

"Yes."

"He doesn't know that." The man motions for me to follow him down a hallway. "He's relapsed."

I frown deeply. How could that be?

"It is rare, extremely so and very unpredictable. But, what's happened is Harry's mind chose
the most comfortable environment for him. I'm saying, he didn't like something so for him, it never happened."

"So-"

"So, we're back to square one."

Notes