Beautiful War

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/36529918.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: M/M
Fandom: One Direction (Band)
Relationship: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Character: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan, Liam Payne
Additional Tags: Alternative Universe - FBI, Harry is a British FBI-Agent (just go with it),
Clairvoyant!Louis, FBI!Harry, agentharry, AgentZayn, AgentNiall,
Murder Mystery, Serial Killers, References to Norse Religion & Lore,
Autumn, Portland Oregon, Enemies to Lovers, Hate to Love, Like
serious hate to soft stuff, Eventual Smut, Will update smut tags as we
go, Louis has PTSD and severe Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety
Disorder, Blood and Gore, Violence, Flashbacks, Soft Louis Tomlinson,
Louis in oversized jumpers, protective!harry, Blood Eagle, Legal Jargon,
Legal terms that might not be completely accurate, Federal Bureau of
Investigation, Investigations, Crimes & Criminals, Eventual Fluff, Angst,
Lots of Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending,
Feel that's iportant to mention, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Visions,
Prophetic Visions, Service Dogs, clifford, Misconceptions, POV Multiple,
Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Sassy Louis Tomlinson, SMUT TAGS:,
Blowjobs, handjobs, Rimming, Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Top Harry
Styles, Alludes to Harry bottoming but it doesn’t happen in this fic so, If
it matters who tops etc then this maybe isn’t the fic for you x
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2022-01-19 Completed: 2022-01-30 Chapters: 17/17 Words:
103379

Beautiful War
by Itsmotivatingcara

Summary

Five years ago, Louis was nearly the next victim in a string of murders plaguing Portland,
Oregon. He managed to escape and the Angel Killer was apprehended and sent to prison.
Now, Louis' a best-selling author that assists state police with minor cases. He still suffers
from the events of the days he'd been held hostage, but he's found ways to cope.

That is, until the killings start up again. A body was found in the woods. A body that bared
the same signature the media had dubbed: The Angel of Death.

Special Agent Harry Styles leads the case, and he doesn't buy into the clairvoyant bullshit
that Louis spewed to save face five years ago. He's certain that Louis Tomlinson was
involved.

Until they meet, and they're both left questioning everything they'd thought to be true.
 Or

An FBI-Clairvoyant AU

Notes

I'm trying something a little more original.

Let's see how it goes!

First and foremost:

I don't own the original characters (the boys). This is in no way related to their personal
lives so please do not send it to them or their families - that would be mortifying. None of
this is real - besides like serial killers, yeesh.

Please be kind x

I won't really have a posting schedule, it'll more be based on my confidence of a completed
chapter. I do like having a few finished before posting one in case I need to go back for
some tweaking.

So stay tuned, I guess and enjoy :)

Edit: At this point in time I'm not open to translations of my work. I also do not consent to
having my work posted elsewhere, so please do not steal it!

All mistakes are my own.

I tried to write about the use of service-animals as respectfully as possible. My depictions

won't always be accurate so please know I do not mean to offend or come off as ignorant :)
x

Must admit, I fell in love with the idea of Clifford as a comfort for Louis, and the idea for a
service-dog just kind of stuck.

Ta!
 Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Louis

Everybody says that time heals everything.

But what of the wretched hollow?

The endless in-between?

Are we just going to wait it out?

There's nothing to see here now,

Turning the sign around;

We're closed to the Earth 'til further notice.

A stumbling cliched case

Crumpled and puffy faced

Dead in the stare of a thousand miles

Wait it out, Imogen Heap

Louis loved autumn, and autumn in Portland, Oregon was a marvel.

He loved the way the douglas-fir, the spruce hemlock, the mixed conifer, and all the other types of
pine and forest trees burnt out. How the branches would shiver and moult, and shed to make way
for something new. The green would be replaced by vibrant shades of reds and oranges and light
kisses of yellow. The bark would peel and chip and crunch beneath hikers boots, the sound
echoing across clearings and settling over puddles. The air would be damp, fresh and yet not.
Autumn was tragic. Autumn was death. Spring was known as rebirth, and Louis respected spring
greatly, mind. Though autumn…autumn felt misunderstood to him. It lended beauty to nature's fate
in mortality.

Of course, it hadn’t taken long for the western-world to catch up with his musings. Autumn
became trendy. Autumn became the perfect opportunity for ‘candid’ photoshoots and quirky
starbucks-coffee drinks and scented candles. It became ubiquitous. A season that was inescapable
and celebrated by the masses. Everywhere Louis turned he was accosted by a warped, pinterest-
esque city that now glorified his favourite season.

He wasn’t mad about it…no really, he wasn’t.

It was still his favourite season, it was just that it was now…everyone’s favourite season.
Louis supposed it spoke to his own macabre outlook on life that he’d chosen autumn as his
favourite season, when it had been this very season that had changed his life forever. A small part
of him wondered if he should hate it, blame it, hold it accountable. If it hadn’t been for that one,
very specific, autumn day, he wouldn’t’ve been outside. He wouldn’t’ve felt the need to explore, to
indulge in the scenery.

But this was Portland, Oregon. It was different here, it was far away. Isolated. Nothing bad ever
happened here. Read: Sarcasm.

Then the letter arrived.

Louis shook his head to dispel the thought.

Clifford bounded ahead, throwing himself head-first into a pile of dead leaves and yipping happily
once he’d exploded out the other side. Louis watched as his dog circled back to repeat the process.
He smiled to himself, knowing that he’d have to clean Clifford’s muddy paws before they got back
inside.

He drew a deep breath, letting the crisp, damp air swirl in his lungs and clear his airways. He’d
needed this. He’d needed to get out of the house when the walls started feeling too tight, too small -
too solid. Or well…the windows. He’d chosen the house specifically for the floor-to-ceiling wrap-
around windows. It meant that there was no barrier between his couch and the forest beyond his
porch.

It had become home before he’d even signed the papers.

A fluffy force barreled into his knees and he stumbled, cursing slightly under his breath and
Clifford sprung away again, sending a cheerful bark over his shoulder.

“Oi!” Louis laughed, righting himself.

Useless support-dog, honestly.

While he may not look it, with his bow-legged gait and his clumsy appearance, Clifford was the
best service-animal Louis was certain had ever existed. He was in-tune to Louis’ every need - not
that he had many. Though when he had especially bad nights, Clifford was there, offering his
shaggy fur to cling on to, to dry his tears. He was there to offer his weight, like a blanket that
calmed Louis, centred him. It had taken Louis no time at all to find Clifford after…after the
incident. Though he strongly suspected the dog found him . He shot Clifford a beam as he
stumbled over a log, gave it a confused look then pounced on it. Man’s best friend indeed.

The trail grew denser the further they walked and he knew they’d need to head back soon, that the
grey sky was on the precipice of bursting, ready to send them scurrying for cover at any second. He
whistled for his dog, then promptly grumbled in annoyance when Clifford pretended he hadn’t
heard.

“C’mon, Cliff.” Louis called again, and with a huff the dog shot up from what he now realised was
an exceptionally messy puddle, to bound towards him. He barely managed to utter a curse before
wet fur was colliding with his legs once more, mud staining his jeans.

“Cheers, mate.” Louis bit out, feeling the cold settling in.

Even though the clouds remained threateningly heavy, Louis still took the long way home. He
knew what awaited him on his kitchen table. He couldn’t put it off any longer.
Though, when the FBI came knocking one rarely had the opportunity to delay.

It’s been five years…

Again, he shook off the thought. Whatever it was may not have to do with the incident - it could
very well be about something entirely different. While he mainly assisted state-police from time to
time on cases it wouldn’t necessarily be a surprise if the Federal Bureau of Investigations had
decided to call him in for his opinion on a case.

It was probably important to mention at this point that Louis had a certain…knack for these things.
Though ‘knack’ may not be the correct term. He liked to think of it as a sixth-sense. Though the
media had used far more colourful words. Clairvoyant. Mentalist. The modern day Sherlock
Holmes.

He was none of those things. Most times his affinity for reading people, and situations felt more
like intrusive thoughts. It’s what ended up saving him that fateful day. What ended up landing him
a book-deal, and press-tours and interviews that rocked the nation. After the book deal he’d started
writing fiction novels, and given that his name was already in the media he soon became a best-
selling author. Though there were still a few nay-sayers, and non-believers. Which was fine, it was
a bit hard to believe, and it was his life.

He’d been a nobody, an illegal immigrant that had run away from home - from a small northern
town all the way across the pond - to start a new life. He’d fallen in with the wrong people as soon
as he’d arrived, desperate for any source of income. After a few mishaps and run-ins with the law,
he’d agreed to become a criminal informant with the promise that he wouldn’t be deported. Now
his face was splashed across every news media-outlet for the world to see, for his abandoned
family to see.

At least one good thing had come out of it.

When he’d received the call from his mother, his heart had clenched and a small kernel of hope had
bloomed. The ‘I’m fine, I’m okay’ that he’d been about to utter to reassure her had died on his lips.
Fame hadn’t taught him yet how cruel the world could be, how unforgiving. How his trauma could
be weaponized, publicised and least of all, how it could not even be the focus of his mother
reaching out for the first time in three years. She’d wanted recognition. Attention. He’d hung up
after his ears had started ringing and his fingers had started trembling, when the breath in his lungs
had turned to shards of glass and he could no longer process the thoughts spinning around in his
mind.

He hasn’t spoken to her since. That was five years ago.

And good fucking riddance.

Hope was for someone else, someone who hadn’t had their life tilted upside down and set right-
side up with everything misplaced. It was for someone who hadn’t tried seeking love in the arms of
strangers who it turned out only wanted to exploit him, or chase their own clout. It was a hard
lesson to learn, but he was better for it. He knew he was stronger alone, safer.

And safety would always be his priority.

When he and Clifford broke through the foliage at last, Louis looked towards his home across the
small stretch of grass separating it from the forest. While he could’ve likely afforded something
bigger, less modest, it still sent a swell of pride through him - knowing that he’d bought it. That he
owned it.
Clifford ran towards the front door and promptly sat down, waiting for him to catch up. Louis had
just taken his first step on the porch when a drop of water landed on the bridge of his nose. He
smiled to himself as he ducked under the shelter of the awning just as the sky broke open.

Intuition.

Let's call it that then.

He unlocked his door and then disarmed the alarm-system, being sure to unclip his taser from his
belt and laying it down on the entryway’s table beside his keys and wallet.

Once the door was shut and bolted behind him, he grabbed the towel he’d laid down before their
walk and set to getting Clifford as dry as possible before walking him to the bathroom for his bath.

He tried his best to ignore the envelope on his kitchen counter as they passed by. Let him have a
strong cup of tea first before climbing that particular hurdle. Clifford seemed to slow down the
closer they got to the bathroom and Louis had to fight the grin that was just about ready to burst
across his face. His dog was not fond of bath time. It made no sense really, because offer him a
lake, a pool or a puddle and he went apeshit - but a bath? Out of the question.

“Let’s be brave, Cliff.” He muttered to his dog when he put more weight on Louis’ knees, trying to
back himself out of the doorway. Louis climbed over the ridiculous dog and set to getting the
bathwater running, making sure it was the right temperature. A whine behind him had him
muffling a laugh behind his wrist. When the whine turned into an outright howl of anguish he burst
into giggles.

“Seriously now? Hey - No, c’mon, that’s enough - Cliff!” Louis’ laughter only seemed to
encourage his dog more as he all but stumbled under the weight of the fluffy beast, trying to lift
him to get him into the tub, only for Clifford to shoot out his paws and brace himself against its
edges. Louis cursed, changing positions and promptly stumbling face first into the water. He
sputtered, righting himself against the tub and sent his dog a glare.

“Happy now?” Clifford licked his cheek and sat in the water as if it hadn’t been a fight to get him
there.

“Mutt,” He mumbled as he grabbed the soap and worked up a lather in his fur.

There had been times he’d thought it best to leave the city that had changed his life, to start over
somewhere else. His therapist had inevitably changed his mind; she'd told him that reclaiming the
place of a traumatic event would take its power away, and would inevitably return that power to
him. It had taken a long time, and he still had obstacles he faced. Small security blankets he’d
created for himself and then clung to to offer comfort, such as his locking-up routine. The walk
he’d take around his house before he’d let himself sleep. The alarm he’d set outside his bedroom
door - completely separate to the interior and exterior house alarms. The exterior alarm had given
him quite some grief in the beginning, given that it hadn’t been prepared for the onslaught of wild
animals that would scurry about or rifle through his trash. Those had been some hard nights. He’d
figured it out eventually, like with most things. It just needed time.

Given that he used to be a C.I. meant that he’d gotten rejected when trying to apply for a gun
licence. The minimal, measely background check had thrown up a giant red: Not a fucking chance
in hell. It sucked but, it is what it is . He had knives and tasers and a rubber-bullet gun (though if
anyone asked, he didn’t, so.) Not even his new status as a legal immigrant and America's sort-of
sweetheart could change that.
Even though his agent was desperate for him to have any sort of social-media presence, he’d
outright refused, it was hard enough that when he travelled into the city there were times he was
recognised, or stopped on the street. On days like those, Clifford would press against his leg and
whine lightly under his breath, letting Louis know that his anxiety was cresting dangerously high
and that it was time to go back under the radar. To return to his reclusive home in the forest.

His therapist was quick to remind him that this didn’t make him weak. That the need for solitude
meant he’d acknowledge what he’d gone through, that he wasn’t using distraction as a coping
mechanism. He didn’t have the heart to tell her she was wrong. That he still spent most of his days
looking over his shoulder, living under the shadow of what-ifs . That he needed to physically be in
the safety of his own home where he could lock the door and then back himself into the small
security room he’d had installed in his closet when he’d bought the place, all because some guy
had complimented his book and wanted an autograph.

On days like those, the scar on his back would burn and tingle like a phantom-ache. Like the skin
was slowly being split open again by the press of a surgeons-blade. He wasn’t able to focus on his
sixth-sense then, trying to tell him that the stranger was friendly, that he wasn’t burdened by
darkness.

It was a gift - or affinity - that Louis had been born with, one that helped him identify bad people. It
was what saved his life.

After Clifford was cleaned and dried, Louis set about brewing himself a strong cup of tea while
filling up Clifford’s bowl. The dog attacked his food with a vengeance, the sound of the metal
scraping on the tile echoed and bounced off the walls of the kitchen. Louis promptly called out for
Alexa to play some Jazz music.

He grabbed the envelope and his cup on his way to the couch in his lounge. A moment later
Clifford joined him as he watched the grey slate of rain tear at the dying leaves of the swaying
branches in the distance. It calmed him, knowing the storm outside matched the one brewing in his
chest. As if they were competing.

His gaze fell on the envelope on the table. The FBI’s seal stood stark against the backdrop of the
white manila folder. With a sigh and a muttered curse he reached for it, tearing it open before he
could hesitate; he wouldn’t back out and risk the FBI showing up at his door. How they even got
his home address in the first place was beyond him, though he suspected he had his agent to thank
for that.

With trembling fingers he unfolded the page, sucked in a sharp breath and let his eyes skim across
the words typed there. Impassioned and formal…and devastating.

We regret to inform you…presence is required at…acquittal…possible grounds for retrial…

The words jumped out at him but refused to sink in. He hadn’t realised his breathing had become
laboured until a weight settled against his side. He dug his fingers into Clifford’s fur and squeezed
his eyes shut. The sound of the fluttering paper in his trembling hands causing his stomach to coil
tightly.

He was going to be sick.

This can’t be happening.

This can’t be happening.

This can’t be happening.

Surely this was a mistake. It’s been five years. It’s been five fucking years. This was obviously a
mistake, and they needed him to testify again or something. They needed him to ensure that…that
that monster continued to rot in a prison cell for the remainder of his life. That was all this was.

He sucked in deep, steadying breaths, trying to calm himself the way his therapist had taught him
to. He nibbled at his lip ring, letting the familiarity of the cool metal sooth him, letting the habit of
rolling his tongue against it settle his pounding heart.

Clifford released a soft whine and Louis turned to pull the dog into his lap fully. He buried his face
in his fur, letting the smell of his herbal shampoo coat his senses. Though he couldn’t ignore the
one that rang out.

Bad, bad, bad.

He’d woken up with it, with that sense. That something had disrupted the natural flow of things,
like a butterfly sensing a thunderstorm. His skin had prickled and then the knock at the door had
come, shortly followed by his mail flap clanking open and shut. Like a bad fucking omen.

The sound had rang through the house, and he’d merely laid there in bed, gripping the sheets with
tight fists and clenched teeth. He knew it would be bad. He knew and still he’d fucking…

Hoped.

Louis cursed under his breath. At himself, at the FBI, at the rain outside, but mostly at the world
beyond. For being so, spectacularly, unfair.

Had he not given enough to this life? Had he not faced enough? It was unfathomable how the
universe kept turning back to remind him, to twist the knife. Then it would lull him into a false
sense of security, only to turn around and yell: Sike!

He’d have to spend the night preparing for tomorrow then, he’d have to put on a brave face and
suck it up. He knew damn well that those agents would hold no sympathy for him. He’d need to
slip on his mask.

He shuddered at the thought of who he’d have to meet with, this agent who had typed out such a
painfully, emotionless request to meet. More a summons than a request. The paper smelled
distinctly of an ‘or else’ .

Setting it aside, he picked up his tea once more and tried his best to let the warm liquid soothe him.
He still had work to do today, he couldn’t let this derail him, or cause any type of set-back his
therapist had spent so long trying to guide him through. He quickly decided he wasn’t in the right
frame of mind to knock a chapter out today, so he’d decided to focus on the charity, on the floor-
plans for the extended rooms.

He opened his notes app on his phone and then set a calendar date to swing by the charity to see
how construction was coming along. His charity, his pride and joy that he’d built from the ground
up. He’d started it three years ago and it continued to grow, to get recognition and funding.

He grabbed his laptop from the table and let his work consume him, hopeful that it would exhaust
him so that he’d be able to sleep that night. It was a futile effort, he’s aware. It didn’t mean he
wouldn’t try.

That night he curled up in a ball and let silent tears fall onto Clifford’s fur as he hugged him tight.
 *

The next morning, Louis dragged himself from bed and into the shower, being sure to take deep
breaths, to curl his trembling fingers into fists when the need occurred, because in two hours time
he’d need to be immovable, unshakeable.

He pulled on his favourite pair of black skinny jeans, an old band t-shirt and a blue denim jacket.
He hoped his dirty toms that completed the look screamed: fuck you. That it was just on the right
side of disrespectful enough to grace the FBI offices where he knew they’d royally fucked up. That
would be the only reason for an acquittal. If someone fucked up.

Idiots, his mind spat darkly.

He strapped Clifford’s vest shut around the dog’s chest, making sure that it was snug and that the
white Service Dog label was on display. Who knew how these fuckers would react to a dog in their
precious, prestigious offices.

Once they were set to leave, he ran through his lock-up routine, scanned the property, made sure
the exterior and interior cameras were still connected to his phone then set out towards his jeep. It
wasn’t a long drive to the offices, but he had some time to kill, so he decided to take the scenic
route as he pulled out of his driveway.

The drive through the forest settled him, and he made sure to crack a window so that Clifford
could enjoy the cool autumn breeze that whipped by. When the forest started spacing out, and the
trees slowly became thinner he felt the tension settle into his bones once more. Store fronts started
cropping up, familiar coffee shops and local supermarkets overflowing with Portlanders eager to
celebrate the season.

He spotted another Starbucks and snorted under his breath with an eye roll. Honestly, they were
spreading like a disease. He still pulled over to grab himself an iced-coffee because he was only
human. Nevermind that he was very much against capitalism and the way it would be the reason
for the world’s inevitable end.

He ducked his head as he entered the coffee shop, Clifford remained glued to his calves, looking up
at him every few minutes to make sure Louis wasn’t about to signal him. They joined the line and
waited patiently for their turn. A balding man sent Clifford an annoyed huff, muttered something
about ‘snowflakes’ and ‘millenials’ and barreled past carrying his seasonal drink. Extra nutmeg
dusting to top of the whipped cream - hypocrite.

Louis ordered quickly, making sure to grab a puppuccino as well before they shuffled back to the
car. Though not before Clifford received an ‘aww so cute’ from the girl behind the counter.

“Alright, you flirt.” Louis muttered as he settled the puppuccino between Clifford’s paws and then
started the car.

Once they reached the Portland Field Office, Louis sat back for a moment to suck in soothing
breaths. He settled his features, making sure he looked as nonchalant and uncaring as possible.

He locked up the car and guided his dog towards the large brown building. Fucking hideous. The
glass doors held no signage so he entered and looked around. Two security officers stood inside
and sent him nods, he nodded back and spotted a reception area to the left.

“Hi there, I’m Louis Tomlinson?” He hadn’t meant to phrase it as a question, but oh well. The
blonde woman behind the desk looked up quickly at the sound of his voice before she sent him a
reserved nod.

“One moment, please.” She tapped away furiously at her keyboard then picked up the phone,
“Yes, he’s here. Sure, thing.” She hung up and continued to type. Long enough for Louis to start
leaning against the register with an expectant look sent her way.

At last she hit the enter button then looked up at him, “You can head on up, third floor to your
right.”

“Thanks,” He said politely, then grabbed Clifford’s leash and headed towards the elevators. Once
inside he pressed the button to the third floor and let the sound of the elevator music distract him
from his tumultuous thoughts.

“Chin up, bud.” He muttered to Clifford. The dog sent him a look but wisely kept his huff short.

Just as the doors dinged, Louis felt the sharp impulse dig at his senses. He paused, placing his hand
by the doorjamb for a moment, making sure it wouldn’t shut on him. A second later a man in a
tucked in white button-down and slacks barreled past, his arms loaded with stacks of files that
obscured his view. Louis smiled to himself as he stepped out, avoiding the collision that would’ve
happened.

He was instantly assaulted with the sight of a bull-pen filled with agents calling to one another,
telephone’s ringing, the sound of pen’s tapping and the smell of burnt coffee. Wonderful. Beyond
the bull-pen appeared to be private offices for the Special Agents. Louis swallowed, feeling mildly
unsure of which direction he should be heading in.

“You need something?” Louis jumped slightly as a blonde man appeared in front of him.

“Uh, yeah, ‘m Louis Tomlinson - here for a meeting?” He said, twisting Clifford’s leash in his
hands.

The blonde’s blue eyes widened and an excited grin spread across his face, “No way! Seriously?”
At Louis’ nod the blonde ran towards a desk in the bull-pen and then hurried back a moment later,
holding a book, “Mind if I get your autograph? Can’t believe I didn’t recognise ya” He looked a
little sheepish which instantly eased Louis’ nerves.

Good, good, good.

Rang out in Louis’ mind as he took the book in his hands and sent the man a smile, “Yeah sure uh,
who ‘m I making it out to?”

“Me!”

At Louis’ expectant look, the guy blushed.

“Right, I’m Agent Horan - Niall. If you could call me Niall,” Louis nodded as Niall stepped closer,
smiling down excitedly as he signed over the intro page. With a click of the pen he handed both
items back, ignoring his face on the cover that stared back at him.

“Wow this is so cool! My mom’s never gonna believe this.” When his large blue eyes swung to
Louis he couldn’t help but giggle, causing Niall’s eyes to soften slightly. When they landed on
Clifford, his smile grew impossibly wider.

“And this is the legendary Clifford, right?”

Louis was surprised when Niall didn’t reach out to touch his dog, most people did unfortunately,
“Uh, yeah that’s Cliff - though ‘Legendary’ will go to his head now, so cheers for that.”

Niall cackled, “If the fame hasn’t gone to his head already, I think we’re good.”

“You’d be surprised mate, the vest had to be furlined and he only eats soft foods now - killer farts,
mind.”

When Niall cackled again Louis grinned, feeling pleased.

“Man, it’s so great to meet ya. I’m a huge fan - seriously.”

Louis felt his cheeks redden at that and ducked his head.

“Horan!” A voice barked and Louis startled, looking up quickly.

The site that greeted him quite nearly knocked him off his feet. A tall, lean body, broad shoulders
and curly, brown hair on an impossibly gorgeous man was stalking towards them.

Louis swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as the man’s eyes ran over him, the green of his irises
glinting. Louis shivered at the appraisal, turning his body towards him on instinct - and for the first
time in his life his instincts screamed:

Safe, safe, safe…

Louis felt his entire demeanour soften, his hands falling to his sides as his lips parted slightly, his
eyelids fluttering.

“Who’s your friend?” The man asked Niall, the scent of his cologne clouding Louis’ senses. He
also happened to be British, which was odd for an agent but Louis wasn’t complaining.

Niall frowned, looking between the two, “It’s Tomlinson, Styles.”

Louis wasn’t prepared for the man’s - Styles - eyes to harden as they swung back towards his face.
He barely held back a flinch when Styles curled his hand into a fist. The twinkle in his green eyes
had flickered out, like a dying flame. The lines around his mouth drew tight in disapproval.
Tension radiating off of him in waves.

“Perfect,” Styles bit out.

 Harry
Chapter Notes

Just a disclaimer: I've not been to Portland, Oregon. So take my world-building with a
healthy pinch of salt :)

FBI Facts: You actually can't apply for the FBI if you're an immigrant unfortunately.
You can only apply if you're above the age of 23.
There is indeed a training academy that is 20 weeks long. Once you pass you become
an agent. It takes roughly 7-13 years to become a Special Agent.

In this fic Harry is just THAT good ig x

Difference between Agent and Special Agent: Agents can assist on cases (rarely do
they do field work). Special Agents can lead investigations, they have arresting rights
too.

So Niall is a normal agent - but he goes out in the field, yay fiction!

Special Agents and Profilers fall into the same bracket, I couldn't find too much on the
different training regimes so I do apologise if it's not entirely accurate.

Now for the TW: Mentions of gore/ murder, anxiety attack/ spike. Harry is kind of a
prick ngl. It also sounds like he's 'victim-blaming' but I promise that will be unpacked
later.

Thank you for the kindness so far, and the kudos! xx

Burn, burn the house on fire

I'm so sick and tired

I can still remember your sound

It is cut cut cutting me down

I'm locked and loaded

You're so milk and roses

Slow Poison, The Bravery

Harry despised autumn. It was temperamental, wet and made his hair frizz.
As if he hadn’t gotten enough shit for his longer-than-strictly-appropriate curls. For some reason
autumn was also a dead season, literally and figuratively. Not that work was ever scarce at the
field office, mind. It was just that there were fewer cases to go around, which meant that cold cases
were often cracked open - and that led to agents finding holes in court cases, which meant certain
trials got reviewed.

Add that to a recurrence of a specific style of murder, and you’ve either got a copy-cat on your
hands - or somewhere, someone fucked up royally.

Richards was sentenced to life in prison without parole beyond a reasonable doubt five years ago.
The case was closed and filed, never to be looked at again - The Angel Killer had been caught and
brought to justice. Until a week ago, when a body was found in the woods, matching the exact
modus operandi as the Angel Killer’s victims. They’d decided to keep it quiet, to mark it as a copy-
cat and monitor who Richards had been exchanging letters with while in prison, unfortunately
there’d been no letters - no outside communication. In fact, Richards had been a model citizen.

So it came as no surprise when the U.S. Attorney General ordered the Portland Field Office to
review the case. What they’d believed was an open and shut case, one that had been sworn to be
beyond reasonable doubt…well, that hadn’t been true. Richards had maintained his innocence
throughout the trial. The only evidence against him had been Tomlinson’s testimony, and
Richard’s name on the lease for the warehouse where Tomlinson’s blood had been found. Likely
Tomlinson’s sob story had swayed the jury - and now an innocent man had spent five years in
prison.

Though Richards filed for exoneration, he wanted to walk away from it all. Unfortunately for him,
given the severe sentencing there’d likely be grounds for a retrial, or until the true Angel Killer
could be found. For now Richards would be put in witness protection where he’d be forced to wear
an ankle monitor, and he wasn’t allowed within one-hundred feet of Louis Tomlinson.

Louis Tomlinson.

Harry felt annoyance flicker in his chest.

Something about his story had never added up to Harry. He didn’t buy into that clairvoyant shit the
kid had tried to sell the media. The Angel Killer had made no mistakes, he’d left no traces behind
at crime scenes. Not a single error - until he decided to grab Louis Tomlinson that day in the
woods. According to Tomlinson’s testimony, he’d been held hostage in a warehouse for a couple
days without food or water, until the Angel Killer had strapped him onto a surgeon's table and
gotten to work. Somehow, though, Tomlinson had miraculously gotten free and managed to
escape.

He’d been found stumbling along a highway where he’d been discovered by hikers, bleeding and
bruised and dissociated.

Three days later, using his description of the warehouse and of what he could remember of
Richards, they’d apprehended the Angel Killer, and that was that.

A likely story.

Don’t get him wrong, Harry was sure that if it were true then Tomlinson had suffered a severe
trauma. What didn’t quite fit the narrative, was Tomlinson’s need to get his face in the media - to
publish a book and monetize said trauma as soon as he was able to. It reeked of involvement in
some capacity. Given that he’d been a C.I. it wasn’t that much of a stretch. The kid was dirty,
through and through. An illegal immigrant runaway that sullied the reputation of people moving to
the states legally for a fresh start, for a new life. And like any street rat, he’d fallen straight into the
arms of the biggest gang in Portland. Sure he’d helped the state police take them down in the end,
but the fact of the matter remained, he’d gotten what he’d wanted out of that arrangement.

Tomlinson was calculated, Harry was certain of that. He was a spider spinning a web that all of
America had fallen into - but not Harry, and not his mentor. Five years ago, when he’d still been a
rookie, Tomlinson’s case had landed on his mentor’s desk. Harry remembered seeing the hospital
photo’s of the kid’s back, had felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of it, until he’d looked up at his
mentor’s face and seen that hardened, wary glint. He’d known right away that it simply didn’t add
up. No one had seen Tomlinson since then. The photos Harry had found were at least eight years
old - from when Tomlinson had first arrived in the states. He’d disguised himself as some innocent
little twink, with large blue eyes filled with wonder. As if.

Unfortunately the more recent hospital photos only showed a bruised and swollen face, and it’s not
like Harry was going to feed the man’s coffers by entertaining the media surrounding him. Or by
reading his pretentious book about his heroic escape. Nope, not a chance in hell. In Harry’s
opinion, all Tomlinson proved with his autobiography was that victim’s only stood a chance against
serial killers if they were special . If they had some type of gift.

Harry’s eyes tracked over the images of the latest victim, the sight still made him feel slightly
green. As if he were still a bright eyed rookie on his first day at the field office, eager to please.

The Angel Killer had a devastating signature. He’d cut open the victim's back, then peel back the
skin before breaking the victim’s ribs and spreading them out, like the broken, bloody wings of an
angel, he’d then hang the lungs from the victims protruding ribs. The very first body that was
found strung up in the woods with his ribs on display like this…the media had dubbed it the Angel
of Death. It was a hard image to shake, and the name was apt.

There was no rhyme or reason to who the Angel Killer would choose, though it was always men.
Harry couldn’t help but feel the latest victim fit Louis’ specifics though. Same age, twenty-seven,
weight and height. He’d have to wait to meet Tomlinson in person to see if the face was similar as
well. Though he suspected it would be. It was a chilling thought - though if it were Tomlinson
behind the murders all along, it would be the best way to throw someone off his trail. So, yeah,
Harry wouldn’t be falling for that.

Tomlinson was due to arrive soon.

He grit his teeth and straightened his suit hoping it looked neat - not for Tomlinson - but because
Harry still felt the need to prove himself. The FBI hadn’t been keen on having a Brit in their Field
office, but he’d been top of his class during his twenty-week training course at the Academy,
which no one could deny.

He’d graduated from Agent to Special Agent within seven years, and from there he’d had a couple
of solved cases under his belt. At thirty-one he felt at the top of his game, and it was because of
that that he swore to keep a close eye on Tomlinson, and to trust his gut when the time came.

His phone rang then and Harry told reception to send Tomlinson up.

He swept the photos back into it’s file, and set it aside, neatening his desk and wiping at the coffee
ring stain on his desk, he moved his cup to the side and left it there. Satisfied, he straightened his
tie as he rose from his desk. He heard a curse from the doorway and looked up to see Carter
hurrying by, looking ragged, and clutching a large stack of files. If he wasn’t careful he’d likely
barrel into someone.
Just as he was about to leave his office the phone rang once more, with a sigh he answered it.

“Styles”

“Hey, it’s Zayn. Just thought you should know Richards is being transported in an hour. That
protection detail you ordered will be at Tomlinson’s house in the morning.”

Harry dragged a hand over his face, “They were supposed to be there tonight.”

“We’ll keep a tighter hold on Richards in the meantime, not much we can do.” Zayn said, his tone
as informal as the way he preferred to be addressed.

“Fine. You heading back soon?”

“Yeah, should be there after this is wrapped up, want a coffee?”

Harry glanced at his cooling office-standard coffee and grimaced, “Please.”

Zayn huffed a laugh, “You got it.”

They hung up and Harry scrubbed a hand through his hair, then grumbled at the texture - fucking
autumn. He was out the door a moment later.

Harry was just rounding the corner when a familiar cackle caught his attention. Glancing up he
saw Niall talking to a man, his blonde head thrown back in amusement. The guy Niall was talking
to had his eyes glued to the blonde’s face, flushed with pleasure at causing such a reaction. When
the man ducked his tousled, caramel haired head to bite down on his grin Harry felt a sharp tug in
his gut.

He was fucking gorgeous.

A moment later he saw the sparkle of blue eyes and headed in their direction, Tomlinson could
wait. The man wore snug black jeans that clung to his frame, he was slight though curvy and
everything about the way he held himself had Harry wanting to push him against the wall, crowd
into his personal space. He swallowed it down, it was a bit of an intense reaction - even for him.

When the man giggled a flash of metal at his lip caught the fluorescent light above and a lick of
heat shot down Harry’s spine, a fucking lip ring. Jesus Christ.

Movement by the man’s legs caught his attention. A mid-size labradoodle sat there, looking up at
his owner with adoring eyes, and when the vest with the large Service-Dog emblazoned on the side
caught his eye he looked to the man’s hands which were currently ringing the leash nervously. A
wave of protective instinct crashed into Harry then, making him want to pull the man into his
office and hide him from the world - what the fuck? He shook his head.

“Horan!” He called, a bit too loudly due to his current, frustratingly spiralling thoughts.

The man flinched as he spun towards Harry. He was accosted by blue, blue eyes and impossibly
sharp cheekbones. Two days worth of scruff dusted the man’s cheeks and his soft, caramel hair fell
slightly in a fringe over his forehead. He watched as the man’s eyes travelled over him, and then he
was turning his body, his arms dropping to his sides and if Harry had to pick one word to describe
it, it would be pliant . It did things to him, seeing such a reaction. Fuck.

“Who’s your friend?” Harry murmured, eyes glued to blue.

“It’s Tomlinson, Styles.” Niall said, his tone unsure.

Harry felt the heat in his gut turn to ice. Of fucking course. Of course, Louis Tomlinson would be a
fucking siren. How fitting. If he hadn’t hated the man before, he certainly did now.

“Perfect,” Harry all but growled.

He watched as Tomlinson fought not to flinch, though his eyebrows twitched as if confused. A
second later any expression was wiped from his features, his spine straightened as he nodded.

“Right, it was lovely to meet you, Niall.” The raspy, light voiced siren said.

Niall grinned and extended his hand for a shake, which Tomlinson took hesitantly, his dog shifting
at his side.

When Niall was gone and they were alone Harry looked down at the dog, at the tag that read ‘ Hi
I’m Clifford, I’m currently working ’ and scoffed. Tomlinson clenched his jaw and arched an
eyebrow.

“There a problem?”

“Nope,” Harry said, popping the ‘p’, “Follow me.” Without waiting for a response, he spun on his
heel and headed back to his office. Silent footsteps sounded a moment later behind him.

When they reached the office he gestured for Tomlinson to enter by extending his arm. Tomlinson
sent him a look he couldn’t read, followed by a smirk and stepped in front of him. Harry tried his
best not to sneak a glance at his arse, he failed, but whatever. He was human, and Tomlinson’s arse
was quite a marvel.

“Always hated when men did that,” Tomlinson muttered, patting Clifford on the head.

Harry frowned as he shut the door, “Did what?”

Louis smirked at him over his shoulder, “Pretended to be chivalrous, when really they just wanted
to catch an eyeful of the goods.” He shrugged good naturedly but Harry felt heat prick at his
cheeks.

He ignored Tomlinson and sat down at his desk, “Sit.” He said.

Tomlinson looked him over, his gaze calculating, searching, before he finally sank into his seat.
Clifford lay down next to him. “Uh…you don’t, uhm, mind…?” He gestured at his dog and for a
moment Harry saw a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, possibly worry.

Harry waved him off, not wanting to read into any soft emotion. Tomlinson was talented indeed.

Once he was settled he looked up at Harry expectantly, though his shoulders seemed to be lined
with tension and he shifted slightly, his fingers twisting in his lap. It was a good act, the nervous
little boy, unsure of why he was called to meet with the FBI. A stellar performance.

Harry felt irritation swirl in his gut, “I’ll get right down to it then, shall I?”

The man nodded, eyes flying over Harry’s face, he still looked slightly confused at whatever he
saw.

“A body was found a week ago, the M.O. similar to that of the Angel of Death.” Tomlinson sucked
in a sharp breath, body stilling, but Harry continued, “This meant that Richards' lawyers filed for
an acquittal…which was granted.”

“What?” Tomlinson’s voice came out on a breath.

Harry nodded, “It seems five year ago going by the word of some C.I. 's testimony was good
enough to sway a jury into imprisoning an innocent man.”

Tomlinson flinched, and then his features hardened, “That’s what this is about? You have an
attitude because of my past?”

Harry felt himself bristle, Tomlinson was scolding him as if he were a child, “I’m merely calling it
like I see it.”

“And how’s that?” Tomlinson snapped. His dog’s head popped onto his lap and he patted him
quickly, though his stern bright, blue gaze didn’t waver.

Harry settled back in his chair, letting it sway gently as he watched Tomlinson. The man’s body
language did not match his facial expression. Where his eyes flashed with outrage, his body was
open to Harry, as if he trusted the agent. It made Harry want to shiver, so he let that fuel his anger
instead, “I just find it all so fascinating,” He shrugged nonchalantly pursing his lips, “You got a lot
of money out of the whole ordeal, all you had to do was deliver a heart-wrenching testimony and
you were set for life.”

Tomlinson’s eyes shuttered as he grit his teeth, his fingers trembled in his lap as if he were trying
to restrain himself from exploding in outrage. Very amusing indeed.

“Son of a bitch,” Tomlinson muttered under his breath, his eyes piercing once more.

Harry hummed, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, “You’re angry.” He mused, “Seems
like an overreaction, no?”

Tomlinson continued to tremble, and then Clifford whined. Harry frowned down at the dog, when
his eyes flickered back up to the man he felt his insides twist. Tomlinson was growing paler by the
second, a light sheen of sweat breaking out over his forehead and upper lip. He swallowed thickly,
his pupils dilating as he set a trembling hand on the dog’s head as if to soothe it, or himself.

“C-Could I,” He cleared his throat, and the sound made Harry want to flinch, “Could I have some
w-water m-maybe?”

Harry jumped up, quicker than he’d like to admit and grabbed the cup beside his water cooler. He
drew a steadying breath and shut his eyes as the sound of Tomlinson’s shaky breaths filled the
silence. Fuck, he’d fucked up.

When he turned back to the desk Tomlinson appeared to be trying to open the cap on a bottle of
pills, though his trembling fingers made the task near impossible. Harry swallowed and gently
pried the bottle out of his hands. They both averted their eyes once he’d handed it back.

“Thanks,” Tomlinson muttered after he’d shaken two capsules out and recapped the bottle. Harry
looked down at the file between them as he swallowed his water. After a moment of silence, Harry
picked up the file and shoved it into his drawer, there was no way he’d be showing this man crime
scene photos any time soon.

He looked up at Tomlinson, his mind warring trying to decide whether that had been the most
spectacular act he’d witnessed to date, or if it had been real. He decided it was real, but that the
meaning for it could’ve easily been because Tomlinson was nervous about being called out.
“You good?” He asked, his tone a bit more abrasive than he’d intended.

When a flush of scarlet flooded Tomlinson's cheeks, Harry felt something entirely too close to
shame bite at his gut.

“Yeah, uh, sorry.” His eyes were downcast, causing Harry to frown. He’d been fooled by enough
‘victims’ to not allow himself to cave.

“Moving on then. Richards will be placed in witness protection, we have a restraining order against
him so he won’t be allowed to come near you.”

Tomlinson chuckled, the sound dry and without humour as he slanted his gaze to the window.

“We also have a protection detail arranged for you, they’ll be at your house tomorrow morning.”

At that, blue eyes swung back to his face, “No.” Tomlinson snapped, his eyes narrowing.

So he was hiding something then, Harry felt smug satisfaction swell in his chest. “It’s already been
approved by the U.S. Attorney’s office.”

“I have a right to decline, which I do.” Tomlinson growled.

Harry bit his cheek in annoyance, his nostrils flaring, “We also have a warrant to search your
premises, which we will do tomorrow as well.”

Tomlinson scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Care to comment?”

Tomlinson shrugged, seeming calm once more, either due to the drugs or because he was dropping
the act, “I just find it ridiculous. The level of incompetence in this department is truly astounding.
First you botch a case, then you let that monster walk free. Now you want to search my place? Do
you have so little to do?” He scoffed, “Like bloody chickens with their heads cut off, running
‘round in circles.”

Harry felt his hackles rise, “Watch it, Tomlinson.”

“Louis.”

“What?”

“Well if you’re going to threaten me, at least call me by my name.” Louis said, arching an
expectant brow.

“You’re not cute.” Harry snapped.

At that Louis practically glowed, “Sure.” He said, sending Harry a wink, and what? Where was the
man who’d had a panic attack mere moments ago?

“Why do you think I need a protection detail?” Louis asked, “If you’re so certain I’m a suspect.”

“Never said you were a suspect.”

Louis sent him a knowing look, waiting expectantly for a reply.

“Either Richards had a partner, or we got the wrong guy.”

Louis titled his head, “If you got the wrong guy would the Angel Killer not’ve come after me long
ago to finish the job?”

Harry shook his head, “Not necessarily, given that your first impulse was to become as famous as
possible. It would’ve been too obvious. He likely would’ve wanted to lie low, lick his wounds.”

Louis flicked his tongue over his lip ring in thought, it was horribly distracting. Harry averted his
eyes and ignored the heat in his stomach that had suddenly kicked up again.

“‘M not that famous,” He muttered at last.

Harry ran an openly judgemental eye over Louis’ appearance, making sure he noticed, “Supposed
you pissed away any money you’d already managed to squirrel for savings. Typical junky.”

Louis’ lips pulled back into a snarl, “I’m not, nor have I ever been a junky .”

Harry sent him his own knowing look, there was no way someone as supposedly wealthy as Louis
Tomlinson dressed the way that he did. Skinny jeans ripped at the knees, a worn denim jacket, his
tom's busted and dirty. He had a lip ring for God’s sake!

“Fuck,” Louis said on a laugh, and shook his head. “I hope to God you’re not a profiler, this
country would be fucked.”

“As if you give a shit about this country, you’re a runaway from a small town on a small island,
practically a nobody that snuck in here to kick up shit.” Harry snapped. He knew he had no handle
on his anger at that moment, Louis had pushed just the right button, and as if sensing this, his eyes
sparkled at the outburst.

“Oh dear,” He muttered, eyebrows arched in amusement and Harry felt his cheeks flush with
colour, “Still trying to prove yourself, are you? How old are you?” His eyes ran over the agent, “I’d
say thirty…thirty-one. Bit old to be so insecure, no?”

“I have nothing to prove, least of all to someone like you.”

“Someone like me…” He murmured, eyes looking around the room in thought, “Pray tell, how did
you manage to get drafted by the FBI, being from likely an even smaller town on that island ,
judging by that northern accent. How’d you end up here?”

“Through more dignified means, I can assure you.”

Louis shrugged, mischief shining in his eyes, “Sounds boring, I only had to suck a couple cocks.”

Harry’s eyes fell to Louis’ lips against his will, a breath stuttering from his own parted, surprised
mouth.

Louis’ lips curled into a smirk.

Irritation swelled in his gut, he hummed, “A whoring junky, how original.”

Louis’ eyes hardened, the smile falling away, “You know nothing of my life. Yet you sit there and
pass judgement, it reeks of privilege.” He all but spat, and Harry merely grinned, knowing he had
the upper hand again.

“Call a spade, a spade. See if I care.”

“Insufferable prat.”
Harry laughed, the sound surprising them both.

Louis’ eyes were glued to his face again, something softening around the edges. Harry tore his
eyes away from the endless blue and looked down at his dog, who had fallen asleep, soft snores
puffing from his mouth, tongue lolling. So Louis was no longer anxious. He wasn’t sure why that
mattered, but he let the thought settle.

“We’ve digressed…” He said after a moment's silence.

Louis shifted in his seat, swallowing, he nodded at last. “Do you…Do you need my assistance on
the case?”

Harry tried to read his expression and withdrew his arms from the desk when Louis leaned forward
and took his old coffee mug, then set it on the opposite side of the desk just as a knock sounded at
the door. Harry frowned at him when the door opened and Zayn walked in carrying fresh coffee.

“Sorry about the delay, got held up at the prison.” He muttered. Zayn’s eyes landed on Louis and
he blindly set the coffee on the desk, where Harry’s old mug had been a second before. He’d’ve
knocked it over if Louis hadn’t moved it.

“Tomlinson, right?” Zayn asked, extending his hand.

Louis looked over Zayn’s face slowly, before breaking out into a blinding smile that crinkled at the
corners of his eyes, it wasn’t cute - not even a little, and offered him a shake. Harry glared at their
clasped hands.

“Louis.”

“I’m Zayn, good to meet you.”

“You too,” Louis said, his eyes still darting between Zayn’s. Harry cleared his throat and Zayn
turned back to him, looking slightly sheepish.

“Right, anyway, transport ran smoothly. Richards is at the house, they’ll watch him until we get a
lead.”

Harry nodded, “Thanks, Z.” The dismissal in his voice was clear, though he couldn’t say why he
wanted Zayn gone at that moment. Though it might have something to do with the way Louis’ eyes
were still tracking over his partner.

Zayn shrugged then headed to the door.

“Uhm, Zayn.” Louis called hesitantly. Zayn and Harry looked at him, Zayn with expectantly raised
brows, Harry with annoyance.

“Yeah?” Zayn asked, his tone gentle.

“This might sound a bit odd but…take the long way home tonight, okay?”

Zayn held eye contact with Louis for a moment, before understanding settled in his expression,
“Sure, thanks.” With that he left the office.

“The fuck was that about?”

Louis flinched as if he’d forgotten Harry was even there which was…whatever.
“Just a feeling.” He shrugged, averting his eyes once more, hands twisting in his lap.

“One of those clairvoyant feelings?” He bit out sarcastically.

Louis licked over his lip ring once more before he rose from his seat with a sigh, Clifford hurrying
to follow, “As great as this has been, I need to get going.”

“To answer your question from before, once you're cleared as a suspect, we’ll likely need your
input for the investigation.” Harry said, a small part of him trying to delay Louis from leaving, he
squashed the impulse.

Louis’ nostrils flared, “Whatever,” he muttered as he headed for the door.

“Oh and one more thing?” Harry called.

Louis quirked a brow at him, waiting. Harry slid his card across his desk towards him.

“Call me if you need anything.” He said, and watched as Louis looked down at the card before he
begrudgingly stuffed it into his pants’ back pocket, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Try not to clear out
your things, we’ll know.”

“Dick.” Louis said under his breath as he shut the door behind himself and Clifford.

Harry sat for a moment in silence before releasing the breath he’d been holding, he scrubbed his
hands over his face in exasperation.

He was positively fucked.

“Turn on the news!”

Harry sighed over his end of the line, he’d only just made it to his flat - had barely managed to drop
his keys and wallet on the counter and unclipped his gun from it’s harness when his phone rang.

“Is it on yet?” Zayn asked eagerly.

Harry flipped on the television, expecting news of the Angel Killer’s next victim, or that something
had been leaked.

“Z…why am I looking at a three-way pile-up report?” Harry asked, confused.

“That’s on my route home! The one Tomlinson told me not to take.”

Harry snorted, “Oh, come on. You don’t really buy into that shit do you?”

The line remained quiet.

“Zayn?” He bit out.

“I don’t know man, could be a coincidence but I don’t believe in those.”

“Yeah you’d rather believe in clairvoyants, sounds healthy.”

Zayn made an offended sound, “Don’t toss around that ableist shit.”

Harry huffed in disbelief, “Me? I’m not the one that wrote a book about my superpowers being the
reason I escaped from a serial killer. As if no one else would ever stand a chance.”

“Maybe talk to Niall about it, I’m sure he’d offer more insight.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he popped his leftovers from lunch in the microwave for dinner, “This kid
writes fiction now, even you can put two and two together.”

Zayn sighed, “Not everything is so black and white, Harry. Sometimes you can believe in a little
bit of magic - God knows we need it in this line of work.”

Harry watched his food as it spun, not really wanting to contemplate it, “Did you get Enzo and
Booth to cover the perimeter of the property.”

“I did…though I’m pretty sure you said Tomlinson declined surveillance?”

Harry wasn’t entirely sure why he’d gone ahead with the protection unit in the end, he told himself
it was because he wanted to make sure Tomlinson didn’t try to clear out his place. If the image of
him twisting his hands around Clifford’s leash while he blushed at Niall’s laugh filled his mind
while making the call, then it was no one else’s business but his own.

The microwave beeped and he grabbed the plate, cursing under his breath when he burnt the tips of
his fingers, some sauce from the pasta dripped onto his thumb and he sucked it off before
answering Zayn. Not at all stalling.

“Might’ve mentioned he wasn’t interested, seemed suspicious to me though.” He muttered as he

grabbed some cutlery from a drawer and then made his way to his lounge where he sat down on
the couch and flipped the channel to a cooking show. God, he missed having time to cook.

Zayn hummed, “Well you’re the lead on this case, suppose it's your call to make.”

Harry glared down at his pasta, “That’s right.”

“I just think you should maybe be a little easier on him.”

“Why, because you find him attractive?” Harry squeezed his eyes shut as soon as the words left his
mouth.

Fuck’s sake.

There was a pause. It felt poignant.

“I mean…he’s hot as hell don’t get me wrong.” Harry grumbled at Zayn’s words, “but, I don’t
know, he seemed so…small.”

Harry shut his eyes against the torrent of images that flooded his mind then. Images of Louis sitting
across from him, looking pale and on the verge of a panic attack - all because Harry had practically
accused him of spinning a story for fame. It left a foul taste in his mouth, his pasta tasted like ash.
With a sigh he shoved his dinner aside and ran a hand over his face.

“Ted Bundy was a charmer.”

“Oh, come off it.” Zayn sputtered, “That’s so different.”

Harry shrugged, though Zayn couldn’t see him, “I don’t know, Z. I just don’t trust appearances, I’ll
be keeping an eye on him.”
“You do that,” Zayn muttered.

They caught up on another case for a while, exchanging updates on their current workload and
planning on when the best time would be for the two of them to join Niall for drinks.

When they said goodbye Harry’s phone started ringing again, he groaned, tempted to throw it at
the wall when the name on the Caller ID halted him in his tracks. With his heart in his throat, he
quickly swiped to answer.

“Styles.”

“Hey Styles, just thought we’d give you an update,” Harry clenched hand into a fist as he waited
for Enzo to finish, “Some guy pulled up a couple minutes ago, we checked him for any concealed
firearms but he was clean - said he was spending the night.”

“Name?”

“Liam James Payne, we’re running a background check now…it’s still processing.”

Harry hummed, “I’ll stay on the line, is he there with you?”

“No, we let him go, seemed harmless.”

Harry bit back a growl and asked between clenched teeth, “You let him go inside without the
background check?”

Silence answered him.

“Uh…yeah, but it’s running and we’re right outside - he had no weap -”

“And what if there are weapons in the house? What if Louis tried to pull a gun and this Payne
person and he managed to disarm him?”

“Louis?”

“Tomlinson.” Harry all but snapped.

“Oh wait, it’s just come through. The background checks clear, sir. As I suspected. Looks like they
were both C.I.’s.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m not asking for your suspicions, I’m asking you to not let
anyone inside that house without a background check. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Enzo muttered.

Harry hung up, annoyance burning in his gut. Honestly.

And who the fuck was Liam Payne?

 Louis
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

I'm taking it slow

Feeding my flame

Shuffling the cards of your game

And just in time

In the right place

Suddenly I will play my ace

Eyes on Fire, Blue Foundation

What a smug, arrogant, literal piece of shit.

Five hours had passed since his meeting with Special Agent Styles and Louis was still fuming. The
audacity, honestly, to accuse him of making up some elaborate ruse for fame. To make him feel
about two inches tall and then mock his trauma, as if what he’d gone through was nothing. He had
to spend two hours after the meeting hushing Clifford who whined every time his irritation would
flare up once more.

Not to mention the embarrassment of having an episode in the midst of it all. He thought he’d been
ready to confront those demons. Though the second Styles cold eyes had locked onto his own after
hearing his name from Niall, he’d felt trepidation. His instincts were clearly out of sorts for making
him feel safe in the man’s presence, a man who clearly despised him.

Make it make sense .

He’d never even met the guy before, and he was pretty sure he’d never met anyone who hated him
as much.

Not only was he accosted with baseless accusations, but he was treated with suspicion and openly
ridiculed. Even now the thought of Styles made the skin on his cheeks heat up. He’d been
positively humiliated.

Louis had stopped by his charity to talk with the builders, as well as check on the newest ward.
Cassie had been there too and she’d been so thrilled at the prospect of being able to welcome more
LGBTQ+ youth to the centre, she was glowing. Yet he couldn’t even find it in himself to match her
energy, he’d still felt that looming darkness hanging over his head like an overbearing and
persistent cloud. Fucking Styles . Above that he could’ve sworn he was being followed, though that
could just be his overactive imagination.

The first thing he did when he got home was call Liam, his best mate, he just…he couldn’t be
alone. Not tonight at least. Not when the dark thoughts were swarming his mind and the silence
only felt like it was perpetuating his anxiety, making every settling creak in the house sound like a
burglar - or a serial killer returning to finish what he’d started.

He’d declined the protection detail. Not out of spite, but simply because if Styles was the lead on
this investigation, if he set the precedent, then he didn’t want to invite that type of hostility near his
home. Where it was meant to be safe.

He still felt annoyed at the small lick of attraction that flared up every now and then when he
thought of the man. Clearly he was out of his mind. That type of arrogance typically didn’t appeal
to him, not that he really knew much of what his type was anymore. It’s not like he’d been open to
the idea of intimacy after… after . The thought of some strangers' hands on his body made his skin
crawl. He’d tried once, it hadn’t ended well. He’d tried dating without the physical aspects but
when the tabloids got hold of that information he stopped trying altogether.

He’d thought of himself as asexual for a while, until he realized he was still very much sexually
attracted to men, he just couldn’t really see it through. Until today, when he’d pictured himself
crawling over Styles desk to settle himself on the man’s lap as a means to wipe the smug grin off
of his stupidly handsome face.

Arsehole .

Something about watching his large, capable hands popping the pill cap of his bottle open had
settled him more than the pills themselves. He’d seen a soft side to the man for a split second, but
it had been enough to calm him. He was still a hostile prick, mind. Though one that Louis’ senses
screamed he’d be safe with regardless.

Not that he’d be trusting his senses when it came to that jackass any time soon.

The knock at the door, followed by Clifford leaping up from his lap in a tangle of clumsy limbs,
had Louis’ heart clawing at his throat until he recognized the pattern of the knock and drew a
steadying breath.

He hurried to the door and undid the locks before throwing it open with a relieved smile. Liam
scooped him up in a large, grounding hug, burying his face in Louis’ neck.

“Hey pal!” Liam said once he’d set him down, stepping aside so Louis could go through his
locking up routine. He’d learned long ago about Louis’ obsessive compulsive tendencies regarding
it and figured it was best not to get involved.

“Thanks for stopping by.” Louis said as he guided Liam into the kitchen to grab some beers.

Liam sent him a grin, “Course, though a warning would’ve been nice.”

Louis paused with his hand reaching for the bottles in the fridge, he sent Liam a confused frown,
“Warning?”

“Yeah, about the cops outside? The full body search?”

Louis gaped, “The what? ”

When Liam jerked his head towards the kitchen window Louis tripped over a nosy Clifford on his
way over. He muttered a curse at his dog as he lifted himself onto the tips of his toes to look out
into the darkness. In the distance, at the end of his driveway, he could just make out the gleam of a
black hood that shone in the moonlight.
“Son of a bitch.” He spat, digging his hand into his back pocket. Liam sent him a questioning look
as he typed the stupid number into his cellphone, there were two. One that had been printed into
the cartdstock, and one that had been written in pen on the back. He decided to go with the latter,
assuming the first was for Styles office, and given the time the prick was likely at home, laughing
at messing with him.

“Styles.” A deep, rumbly voice answered.

Louis suppressed a shiver and grit his teeth, “You have some nerve siccing your lousy suits on
me.”

A rumbling chuckle followed, “I don’t know why I expected gratitude, of course you’d be
hostile.”

Louis sputtered, “Oh, I’m the hostile one?”

Shuffling sounded on the other end and Louis wondered if Styles was in bed, he shoved the thought
away swiftly, “Are you really that surprised? You knew I didn’t trust you.”

“You’re violating my right to -”

“I’m not violating shit,” Styles growled, “They’re beyond the property line, when you change your
mind they’ll move closer.”

Louis gripped the edge of his kitchen counter, “They harassed my guest.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend's fine, he’s got a clear background check if it’s any consolation.” He
drawled.

“You ran a background check on him?!” Louis’ voice rose to an embarrassing octave but he
refused to back down, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“The Special Agent in charge of this case.”

Louis rolled his eyes, “Yeah, you’re doing a spectacular job, Special Agent.” He made sure the
word came out derisive.

“Did you just call to flirt? If it’s all the same to you I’d like to go back to sleep.”

An undignified noise escaped Louis then, “You -! I -” He growled in frustration, “First I have a
boyfriend and now I'm flirting? Seriously? ”

Liam’s head snapped up in surprise, his eyebrows near his hairline.

Harry chuckled, “I’ll see you in the morning, kid.”

“ Kid?! ” He sputtered, a second later the dial tone sounded. He drew the phone away from his ear
in disbelief. “Son of a bitch!” He spat and tossed his phone on the marble counter where it
clattered.

“Woah…who was that?”

Louis looked over at Liam, “Special Agent Dickhead .”

“Is he hot?”
Louis choked on his spit and turned fully to face Liam, sending him a look of pure disbelief.

Liam shrugged and sipped at his beer, “Dunno, just never seen you so riled up before.”

“Because he’s a prick.”

“Yeah but is he a hot prick?”

Louis grabbed his beer and took a sip instead of answering, letting the foam burn his throat.

“Whatever, let’s watch a movie.”

Liam grinned but didn’t add anything else as they made their way over to the couch. He pulled
Louis’ legs over his lap while they looked for something to watch. Once they’d selected
something, Louis let the drone of the voices on screen, as well as the warmth of his favourite
person wash over him.

“Wanna talk about it?” Liam asked after he’d taken the last sip of his beer and set it aside.

Louis shrugged halfheartedly. When Liam squeezed his calf muscle, he sighed and looked over at
his best friend.

They'd both been in the gang together, Louis had managed to pull Liam into the C.I. business once
he’d been picked up, knowing that it was either that or his best friend would be going to jail. A
year later Liam had opened his own bar and managed to carve out a decent life for himself.

“They think they got the wrong guy…” He cleared his throat and looked at the television as he
spoke, “The wrong Angel Killer.”

Liam’s hand tensed on his leg as he whipped his head towards Louis, “W-what?”

With a sigh, Louis filled him in on the latest victim, the acquittal and how the FBI thought the
killer might come after him. He still believed it was a fifty-fifty chance, made all the more possible
now that Richards was out, he didn’t believe an ankle monitor would be enough to hold back a
monster like that.

As he spoke, Liam’s eyes grew wider and wider, his mouth gaping as he stared in horror.

“And how are you coping with all of this?” He asked after a moment.

Louis shrugged, not meeting his eyes as he twisted the neck of his bottle.

“Lou…”

Louis swallowed thickly, his eyes pricking suddenly, “I…” When he choked Liam pulled him into
his arms. Clifford hopped up onto the couch and settled on his other side.

“It’s going to be okay, I know you don’t want to hear this but…but if that Special Agent thinks you
should have a protection detail, then I have to agree.”

“They hate me, Li. He thinks I’m like, in on it or something, that I faked it for the money.” Louis
sniffled, clinging to his best friend's jersey.

Liam tightened his arm around him, “Let him run his job how he sees fit, even if it irks you. At
least you know he’s being thorough. He can’t really buy into the shit he said if he’s got those guys
outside, they were pretty intense.”
Louis huffed a wet chuckle, “He said he didn’t trust me though, so I’d sooner assume they were put
there to make sure I didn’t run or clear my house before the search party arrived tomorrow.”

Liam hummed, “Well either way no one's coming onto the property.”

“I guess.” Louis muttered around a yawn.

“Come on, why don’t we get some sleep.”

Louis nodded solemnly, though they sat there for a while longer until the end credits rolled.
Afterwards, Liam joined him as he took a walk around his house, then stayed by his side as he
went through his lock-up routine. He didn’t say a word when Louis set the motion-sensor alarm
outside his bedroom door, even though Liam would be staying in the spare room down the hall.
Liam had been there through it all, had helped him through his coping mechanisms, trying to find
the healthiest and most feasible alternatives. It helped. He was endlessly grateful to have found
Liam.

Louis was yanked out of his dream when the perimeter alarm went off, ringing loudly through the
house. His eyes flew open as the sound of his pounding heartbeat filled his ears. He quickly
jumped to his feet and grabbed his switch-blade as Clifford hurried over to his side. He disabled
the interior alarm and cracked his door open. Ahead, the door to the guest room opened and an
alert Liam came out with a knife of his own. Even years later, his best mate was still cautious.

Louis swallowed thickly as Liam nodded to him and they made their way towards the lounge. The
soft morning light that spilled into the room calmed Louis momentarily, though the sound of his
alarm ringing through the house still set him on edge. When they reached the hallway they could
hear muttered curses on the other end of the front door. A second later, pounding knocks.

“Louis, it’s Special Agent Styles!”

Louis felt dizzy with relief as he leaned against the wall, sucking in deep soothing breaths. Liam
passed him and unlocked the door then swung it open. He barely glanced at the agent as he
disabled the alarm.

Louis looked up to see Styles looking over Liam’s shoulder at him, an unreadable look in his eyes.

He straightened quickly and tugged at his jumper, knowing he looked particularly dishevelled, and
considering Styles was dressed in a pristine black suit didn’t necessarily lend confidence.

“You could’ve called,” He muttered as he stepped into the morning sunlight that bled onto the
hardwood floors from the doorway.

Styles' eyes ran over him briefly, settling on his trembling fingers, or more likely the knife in his
hand before looking away, “Mind putting that away?”

Louis carefully folded the knife and stuck it in his pocket, then folded his arms around himself as
Clifford leaned against his legs and watched the agent.

“We have a warrant to search the premises, remember?”

Louis glanced over at the clock in the hallway and glared, “At seven in the morning?”

The agent’s eyes fell on Liam over Louis’ shoulder before meeting his own, they were awfully
green and Louis hated him, “Figured it was best to get this out of the way.”

Louis stepped aside and gestured for him to enter, a moment later two other agents followed. Liam
stepped up beside Louis and draped an arm over his shoulders in comfort, his eyes hard as he stared
at the men.

“How long will this take?” Liam asked, tone cool.

Styles looked over at them, his eyes flitting to Liam’s arm before shrugging, “An hour or so,
depends on what we find.”

“And what is it you’re looking for?”

Louis watched as Styles bristled at Liam’s question and he bit back a grin, snuggling further into
Liam’s side. Styles' eyes tracked the movement.

“Anything pertaining to the case.”

“Which is?”

At that Styles turned fully towards Liam, “We’ve got it from here, now if you don’t mind, we just
need Louis for this.”

The dismissal in his voice had Louis’ glare turn molten, “Watch your mouth.” He snapped.

Liam chuckled, rubbing at his side, “It’s okay, Lou, I need to get going anyway. You gonna be
okay?”

Louis looked up at Liam and gave a short nod. He smiled and kissed Louis’ forehead before
heading to the guest room to presumably grab his things. Styles watched him the entire time.

“You made your boyfriend sleep in the guest room?”

Louis ignored him and instead went to the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove. If he was going to
deal with Styles, he’d need a damn strong cuppa.

“Anyone want tea or coffee?” He called out.

A chorus of ‘No, thank you’s’ followed.

“I’ll take some tea,” Styles murmured from behind him.

Louis hadn’t heard him come into the kitchen, though he couldn’t say he felt all that bothered by
the intrusion, which was annoying.

Liam called out a goodbye and Louis waved before grabbing two mugs from the top shelf, standing
on his tiptoes to reach. When he turned around to ask Styles how he liked his tea, the agent pulled
his gaze away from the strip of skin that had been exposed on Louis’ lower back.

Louis bit back a satisfied smirk, “How do you like it?”

“What?” Styles asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“Mind out of the gutter, Styles. ‘M asking about your tea?”

The agent huffed with an eye roll, “Milk, no sugar - and my name’s Harry.”
Louis didn’t respond, he merely continued with preparing the tea, stepping around Harry to get to
the fridge for the milk.

When he was done he walked over to the agent and handed him his tea, looking up at him through
his lashes, “Here’s your tea, Harold.”

Harry glared, “ Harry .”

Louis hummed around his smirk as he blew lightly on his own, revelling in the way Harry’s eyes
fell on his lips.

“You even know how to use that thing?” Harry asked, eyes shooting down to the front of Louis’
pants.

Louis choked on his first sip, “ Excuse me?”

Harry grinned, and dear lord, are those dimples? “Now who’s mind’s in the gutter? Talking about
the switch-blade.”

“That’s what it’s called? Huh.” A flash of irritation sparked in Harry’s eyes, causing Louis to
giggle, “Yeah, idiot. I took self-defence.”

“Before or after?”

Louis sipped at his tea to stall as he leaned against the counter across from Harry, “Both.” he
murmured. Clifford came back into the kitchen then and sniffed at Louis’ sock-clad toes, Louis
sighed.

“Yeah, alright.” He muttered to his dog, then set his tea aside and bent to open the cabinet.

A sense washed over him and he chuckled, “Stop staring at my arse, I know it looks great in these
sweats but it’s just plain rude.”

He reached for Clifford’s bowl and filled it easily, sliding it towards the dog who attacked it as if
he were starved.

“Jeez, Cliff, make me look bad, why don’t you.” He muttered, reaching for his tea again.

“I wasn’t.” Harry finally muttered.

“What?” Louis frowned.

“Staring, I mean.”

Louis cocked his hip and raised a knowing brow, causing Harry to avert his eyes.

“You really do love the attention don’t you?” Harry said under his breath.

Louis bit back a retort, and instead chose to grab his pills from the cabinet above his head. He
selected the day and popped the lid, then knocked them back in one swallow.

“Think what you want, your opinion matters little to me.” He murmured as he put his pills away.

The scraping of Clifford’s metal bowl filled the space between them.

“You’re a bad liar.”

Louis threw his head back and groaned, then chuckled and shook his head, “What is it Harry?” He
met the agent's impossible green eyes, “Am I a terrible liar, or a skilled con-artist - it can't be both,
surely?”

Harry clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, “I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t care , as long as you do your job.” Louis snapped.

“My job would be made a lot easier if you’d agree to the protection detail.”

Louis rolled his head on his shoulders, “Why, though?” He sighed, the sound coming out slightly
exasperated and a little more sensual than intended due to the angle of his neck, his lashes fluttered
slightly at the pleasant stretch.

“Stop that.” Harry growled.

Louis looked back at him in surprise, “Stop what?” He frowned.

“Stop with this seduction technique.” He waved his hand, encompassing Louis’ body.

When Louis laughed, the agent flushed and glared. “I’m not trying to seduce you, you moron! God,
you’re so full of it.”

“You’re shoving your arse in my face every chance you get, acting all soft and then looking up at
me through your lashes, ‘m not an idiot.”

Louis covered his mouth with the back of his wrist to contain the giggles that burst from his chest.
He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the muscles in his stomach tremble. He couldn’t remember the
last time he’d laughed this much.

“How is this funny?”

Louis laughed harder at Harry’s obvious annoyance, he wiped at his eyes when the tears started
falling from his lashes, “Sorry, s’just…you’re kind of ridiculous.”

He sipped at his tea to soothe his throat.

“ I’m the ridiculous one?”

“Sorry, love, but it’s a bit too early for the continued bickering. If I’m honest.” Louis waved him
off, making sure to be as dismissive as possible.

Harry opened his mouth to reply when he was interrupted.

“Styles, we’ve got something over here.”

Louis frowned in the direction of the voice and followed Harry out of the kitchen towards his room
where the other agents were standing over his bedside drawer. His face instantly flamed when he
realised what else he kept in there.

The agents shuffled past Louis, leaving him alone with Harry in the room and heading to his walk-
in closet.

“Want to tell me why you have a gun?” Harry’s tone was hard.

“Wanna take a guess?” Louis answered, his own tone saccharine sweet.
Harry picked up the gun and popped out the magazine, “Rubber bullets?”

Louis shrugged, “Got rejected when I tried to apply for a gun licence.”

“You know you still need papers for this, right?”

Louis nibbled at his lip ring nervously and shuffled slightly in place when Harry’s eyes landed on
him. With a sigh Harry put it back in the drawer, his eyes landed further to the right, causing Louis
to flush all the way down to his chest. Harry smirked as he lifted the neon pink, glittery dildo out of
the drawer.

“Your boyfriend mind you having one of these, as well?” He smirked.

Louis covered his fists with his sleeves and glared, “Not that it’s any of your business, but Liam’s
just a mate.”

“I don’t particularly care.” Harry said with a shrug.

“For someone who doesn’t care, you’re awfully concerned about my relationship status.”

Harry’s eyes settled on him once more, taking in the way Louis’ fingers were twisting in the
material of his jumper, “I need to know about the people closest to you.”

“And do you also need to know about my sex habits?” Louis asked, looking pointedly at the dildo
still clutched in Harry’s hand. He tried his best to ignore the sheer size of that hand and the way it
easily engulfed the sex toy. Harry set it back in the drawer and shut it.

“So it’s just Liam then?” Harry asked, avoiding Louis’ question.

Louis nodded.

“What about your family?”

Louis pinched the skin on his forearm to keep his voice steady, “We don’t talk.”

Harry sent him a look, “Didn’t want to share the riches or the fame?”

At those words Louis squeezed his eyes shut, drawing his arms tighter around himself, “ Don’t .”
He whispered, his voice trembling. Clifford came into the room and whined into Louis’ lower
thigh, he dropped a hand on top of the dog’s head until he felt steady enough to look at the agent
once more. Harry wasn’t looking at him though, he was looking past Louis at the view of Mount
Hood through the window, his jaw clenched.

“I take it that’s not a conversation topic you’d be willing to broach.” He murmured at last.

“It’s not.” Louis agreed.

To say Louis was surprised when Harry nodded would be an understatement.

“I’m going to need an outline of your day to day schedule from here on out.”

“What?”

Harry raised a challenging brow, “Do I really need to repeat that or are you just being purposefully
obtuse?”
Louis bristled, his earlier agitation vanishing in a cloud of smoke, “And why, pray tell, would I
need to share that information with you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Do you have a warrant?” Louis clapped back.

Harry winked, “Don’t need a warrant, love , as long as you're a suspect I own you.”

Louis wasn’t sure if Harry’s choice words had the impact he’d intended. Instead of being annoyed,
he felt a pulsing flash of heat shoot down his spine. His mouth popped open in surprise before his
cheeks flushed. He ducked his head quickly to hide the reaction, though when Harry cleared his
throat, he wasn’t sure he’d been all that successful.

“Yeah, uh, okay…” Louis shook his head quickly to clear it, “Actually I don't have a fixed
schedule, it changes from day to day.”

“Text me in the mornings then.”

Louis’ brows rose in surprise, “T-Text you? Every morning?”

Harry shrugged, scratching the back of his neck, “Yeah, it’s - whatever. Just need to know where
you are.”

Louis nodded carefully, “Uhm, Okay…well I’ll be going for a run in an hour with Cliff,” he
gestured to the woods over his shoulder, “and then I’ll just be here today, got some writing to do…
so.”

Harry frowned at the woods, “You go running by yourself?”

“With Cliff.” Louis corrected.

Harry gave Clifford a dubious look, “Don’t suppose he’s trained to protect you?”

Louis shook his head.

“So what happens if you're cornered by someone on the traill? Your dog gonna comfort them to
death?”

Louis glared, “I have a taser. Also, you’re kind of an ableist, you know that?”

Harry groaned, “No I’m not, for fuck’s sake.”

“I take it by that grand overreaction that I’m not the first to say so.”

A knocking sound came from the closet and Louis was pulled from Harry’s hard gaze to look over
his shoulder.

“There seems to be something back here.” One of the agents said.

Harry sent Louis a raised brow then turned to head into the closet. After a beat of hesitation, Louis
followed.

The agents had pushed aside Louis’ line of hanging coats to tap at the false wooden wall behind it.
The agent ran his fingers along the hinge and dug his fingers in to pry the board loose. Louis bit at
his lip ring as his safety room was revealed. It was nothing more than a crawl space with some
blankets and pillows, as well as a dog’s bowl for food and water.

The agent’s fell silent as they stared into the room, mixed looks of shock and confusion etched on
their faces.

Louis cleared his throat and felt Harry’s eyes on him, “It’s, uh, it’s just for…like” he could feel his
face burning and twisted his knuckles into the sleeves of his jumper a little harder to force the
words out, “It’s a sensory thing, w-when -”

“Close it up, we can move on from the bedroom.” Harry muttered, then turned to Louis as he
stepped out of the closet, “What time do you usually go for your runs?” He asked as he led them
out of the room.

Louis wracked his brain for the answer, given the one-eighty topic jump. “Uh, typically around
nine…depends on the day.” He answered at last, following Harry down the hallway.

“We’ll make it at seven.” He said as he walked into the kitchen once more and grabbed his tea,
which was likely cold by now.

Louis frowned, “We?”

Harry nodded, “I’ll join you on your runs.”

“No thanks.” Louis said firmly.

“Wasn’t a request.”

“Are the FBI typically this imposing?” Louis asked.

“Nope,” One of the agents muttered as he walked by.

Harry shot a glare at his back then straightened his tie, “I like to be a bit more hands on.”

“I’ll say,” Lous muttered, mind flashing back to Harry holding his dildo in the room.

“Get your head out of the gutter.” Harry said, as if reading his thoughts.

Louis sent him a mischievous grin, “But it’s so cosy in there.”

“Enzo and Booth said you were walking around outside with your - with Liam last night, what was
that about?”

Louis snorted, “ Enzo and Booth ? Bit on the nose.”

“You’re stalling.”

Louis licked over his lip ring in thought, and noticed as Harry’s eyes tracked the movement, he
prodded it again out of curiosity and Harry’s eyes flicked up to his own.

“You’re doing it again.”

Louis shrugged, sending him a coy wink.

“Why were you outside?” Harry pressed, taking a step towards him. Louis couldn’t say he really
minded when the space between their bodies were eliminated, when he could practically feel the
agent’s body heat.
He swallowed and averted his eyes from Harry’s pink, full lips, “I have a routine, at night I circle
the property then I lock up and set my alarms.”

Harry pursed his lips, tugging slightly at the bottom one between his thumb and forefinger.
“Alone?”

Louis shrugged again.

“Would you be willing to make a compromise? Let the protection detail handle that part?” He
looked sincere in that moment, as if he genuinely wanted to know if it was something Louis was
able to do.

“I…I don’t know, it’s one of my coping mechanisms.” He couldn’t meet Harry’s eyes when he
answered.

Harry hummed thoughtfully, “Would you let one of them join you then?”

Louis looked up at him in surprise, “Y-yeah, that would be fine.”

“Sir, we’re all wrapped up. The house is clear!” One of the agent’s called from the lounge.

Harry bit his lip, his eyes travelling over Louis’ face before he spoke, “You have an hour for your
run, if you’re not back by the time that hours up, Enzo and Booth will go looking for you. Do we
have a deal?”

Louis tried his best not to bristle at this and instead gave a jerk of his head in a nod.

“Good, I’ll wait for your text tomorrow. Thanks for the tea.” He placed his empty mug in the sink
and stepped out of the kitchen.

He listened as the other agents followed Harry out of the door. When it shut behind them he sank
against the counter and looked down at Clifford.

“Welcome to our new normal, Cliff.”

Louis pushed himself a little harder during his run, trying to shake the feeling of his world being
tossed on its head. He kept his pace steady, and his breathing even and revelled in the feeling of the
cold autumn air cutting through his airways on every inhale. The air was damp and fresh, the smell
of wet earth thick in the mist swirling around his ankles. He jumped over some fallen logs and
avoided slick moss as he went, enjoying the obstacles. He loved the woods behind his house, he’d
spent a lot of time mapping them out in his head, knowing that if this were to be his home he’d
want to put a piece of himself in all of his surroundings.

Clifford kept pace well, though his breathing grew slightly heavier. Louis was keeping an eye on it
though, it was no use punishing his dog for his own plaguing thoughts. He tried to shake the
feeling of the agents staring into his safety room, but could still feel the itch of embarrassment over
the skin at the back of his neck and shoulders. Who were they to judge though? They were just a
bunch of strangers nosing at someone else’s private life. In fact, they should feel embarrassed for
prying.

With a sigh Louis slowed his run down into a walk until his heart rate slowed, he then placed his
hands on his hips as he stared out into the waking forest. In the distance he could hear the morning
calls of birds, the scratching of some woodland creature and the steady staccato of bugs. He drew
 in a deep, soothing breath and closed his eyes, letting the sounds wrap around his senses.

Clifford leaned against his leg, he could feel the dog’s heartbeat against his calf. With a smile,
Louis dropped a hand to pat his head.

“Good boy,” He murmured to him.

It was time to head back before the stooges came looking for him.

Booth and Enzo .

Louis snorted, they’d sent him nods as he’d exited the house in his jogging kit a half hour after
Harry and his agents had left. He’d sent them a half-hearted salute and had taken off without a
backwards glance. Though he did note that they’d moved their car closer up the drive. He
wondered if he was meant to take them coffee in the morning now. Was he hosting them? He had
no idea but he wasn’t a dick, he’d offer them refreshments.

Louis turned to make the trek home when Clifford froze, his nose pointed in the air curiously. He
frowned down at his dog, just as Clifford’s head swung in the opposite direction and he emitted a
low growl. Louis felt the small hairs on the back of his neck rise as he looked into the dense forest.
There had been a few sightings of black bears in the past couple years, though none would be seen
during the autumn season, they’d be hibernating…or was that their feeding season? Fuck, he
wasn’t sure anymore.

Clifford did well with the smaller animals, only those that posed a threat would garner such a
reaction. Louis tugged lightly on Clifford’s harness in case the dog decided to take off, it hadn’t
happened before but you never know. Louis wracked his brain for the wildlife reports he’d seen put
up in the city. There had been some wolf sightings too, though those reports had been few and far
between. He wasn’t discounting anything though. He was also a little farther in the forest than he’d
initially intended to be.

“C’mon, Cliff.” He murmured, keeping his eyes peeled as he pulled the dog’s tense body back
towards the path.

Clifford growled again, turning his head slightly as if tracking a movement in the trees that Louis
couldn’t see. His hands trembled slightly as he tugged again.

Fuck, he hadn’t even taken his bear deterrent spray, which oddly enough could be used against
most mammals - though he hated to harm any animal, if it was kill or be killed it was kind of a no-
brainer.

He fingered the taser clipped to his felt as he all but dragged Clifford back towards his home. He
couldn’t get a sense on anything around him, so he wasn’t sure if whatever had spooked his dog
was following them. He just had to trust his instincts on this one.

When the roof of his house broke out above the tops of the trees in the distance, he felt his
shoulders loosen. It was just another day in Portland, Oregon. That’s all.

A couple minutes later he was on the porch knocking dirt from his shoes while ringing out Clifford
muddy curls with an old towel, he called out to the agents parked out front and offered to make
them coffee. They both sent him grateful nods and he smiled. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after
all.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter End Notes

Black bear info: Black bears actually forage well through autumn so that they're ready
to hibernate in winter. They're more afraid of humans than we are of them, and not
nearly as territorial as brown bears. They will attack if threatened but attacks against
humans are still rare. They're still wild animals though so always be safe if you
encounter one!

Bear deterrent spray is a real thing, and it does work on most animals. Mostly hikers
and trail-guides carry it :)

I think that covers most of it, though if you have any more questions I'd be happy to
answer what a can!

Thank you for the lovely comments and kudos so far x

 Harry

Don't tear me down for all I need

Make my heart a better place

Give me something I can believe

Don't tear me down

You've opened the door now, don't let it close

All I Need, Within Temptation

“Hey,” Louis’ breathy voice over the phone had Harry’s pen in his hand stilling over the report
he’d been filling out at his desk.

He frowned and sat back slowly, making sure to keep his tone even, “Everything alright?”

A beat of silence passed, then, “Yeah, yeah all good.”

Harry tapped his pen for a moment, “What’s up?”

“Are you, uh, still planning on that run tomorrow?” Louis asked, though something in his tone had
Harry’s skin prickling.

“I am, did you just get back?” He asked, shooting a glance at the clock on his wall, it was just after
ten.

Louis hummed in answer then cursed as a sharp whistle sounded in the background, the kettle,
Harry deduced.

“Something happened?” He wasn’t sure why else Louis would be calling when they’d only parted
ways near two hours ago.

“Hmm? Oh, no…well,” At Louis’ hesitation Harry leaned forward in his desk chair, clutching the
phone a little tighter in his hand, “Just, if you’re going to be joining, will you have, like, your
gun?”

“So something did happen? What was it?” He bit out, God this kid was frustrating. Talking to him,
trying to get anything out of him, was like pulling teeth.

“Nothing happened,” Louis snapped, his tone very much annoyed, “Clifford got spooked by an
animal or something. Just wanted to know if you’d have your gun, I’m running low on bear
spray.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, “You called me because some woodland creature spooked
your pet?” He grumbled. “Do you have any idea how much work I have to do?”

Louis’ breath trembled slightly over the line, “Oh, uhm, yeah - right, no that was - stupid, I’ll just -
go.”

Something in Harry’s chest tightened at the sound of Louis shutting down, “Wait,” He said before
Louis could hang up, “Sorry, I’m just…lots of paperwork to do - I’m unloading on you. Don’t
worry about it, call whenever, okay?”

Silence greeted him and he held his breath.

“O-okay.”

More silence ensued and Harry looked back down at his paperwork, then put the phone on speaker,
picked up his pen and hummed a tune under his breath as he filled out the rest of the report. He
could hear Louis moving around in the background, the sounds of multiple mugs being set down.

“You got some people coming over, or something?” Harry asked casually as he looked at the
phone laying beside the documents.

Louis huffed a laugh, it sounded further away, as if he’d also put the phone on speaker, “No, I’m
making the stooges some coffee.”

Harry bit back a smile, “Aren’t there supposed to be three?”

When Louis hummed knowingly in the background it clicked and Harry chuckled, “You’ve named
us the three stooges?”

“Seemed apt,” Louis called, then Harry could hear a murmured conversation follow between Louis
and Booth, he suspected, “No problem, mate. Let me know if it’s alright, you can come in for more
sugar or whatever.”

Harry smiled as he continued with his work. Something about Louis being hospitable towards his
team, even though he was originally opposed to them being there, had his chest tingling.

“Nice of you to take care of ‘em.” He said.

Louis’ voice was closer when he responded, “Figured they got the raw end of the deal, having to
babysit and all.”

“I don’t know, I’d take babysitting over filling out these reports anyday.”

Shuffling could be heard on the other end and Harry pictured Louis carrying the phone over to his
couch, beyond the shuffling he could hear the light clips of Cliffords nails on the hardwood floors.
He’d been surprised by Louis’ home. The darkwood aesthetic mixed with the royal blue walls, the
white furniture. While the property was large, the house itself was more modest - still partly
modern yet it clung to a cosy appeal that had felt overwhelmingly like home. The first thing he’d
noticed when he’d stepped into the house was how much it smelt like Louis. Like cedar and citrus
and a hint of vanilla. Not that he spent a lot of time analysing the way the man smelled.

“You prefer being out in the field? Is that the term you use?” Louis asked once the sound of
movement petered out.

Harry bit his lip, that question was kind of…cute. He shoved the thought aside and cleared his
throat, “Yeah that’s right. I do, not really one for four walls and a desk, I prefer being out and
about.”

“I get that,” Louis murmured over the line, his tone soft. A moment later Harry could hear tapping
in the background, the sound of a keyboard.

“You working on another chapter or…?”

“Just looking over the floor plan for the charity, actually,” Louis’ tone was mildly distracted yet
still present. The thought of them both working on separate tasks while over the phone felt oddly…
comforting. Fuck, he needed to end his call - just, wait, what?

“Charity?”

Louis made a humming sound and then the tapping paused, “Oh, uh, yeah.”

“I didn’t see anything in your file about a charity?” Harry asked, pulling Louis’ file out of his desk
drawer to check if he’d missed it.

Louis chuckled under his breath, “I don’t advertise it much, but yeah, I own a charity for LGBTQ+
youth. More of a home-base if you will, somewhere safe for kids to go.”

Harry frowned, “So you’d sooner promote your fiction books than a charity that actually needs the
media attention?”

When Louis sucked in a sharp breath Harry squeezed his eyes shut, fuck, he hadn’t meant for his
tone to be so biting.

“I didn’t want my face on the project because it would distract from its intended purpose. Not all
publicity is good publicity, and like I said, I wanted it to be a safe place for the kids. Having
someone that’s splashed across the media involved in it wouldn’t give it the anonymity that some
of those kids need or deserve.”

Harry felt that small bite of guilt in his gut again, he opened his mouth to respond but wasn’t really
sure how.

“I should go, I’ve distracted you enough.” Louis muttered. Before Harry could disagree, or
apologise the line went dead and the dial tone sounded. With a sigh Harry fell back against his
chair and laid his palms over his eyes. For fuck’s sake, he was such a dick .

A very small part of him wondered if there was a chance he’d misjudged Louis Tomlinson. He
hadn’t known of any charity, and given the income Louis’d made on his books the man was
wealthy beyond what was standard. Well beyond the means to afford a larger house. Harry had
wondered where most of that money went to if not to feed a property or drug-habit or whatever
other nefarious prospects he’d mentally conjured up. The thought that Louis was pouring most of
his livelihood into a charity and living modestly as a result had his lunch turning to ash in his
stomach. It didn’t mean he was wrong about anything else, there was still a chance Louis had been
involved with the Angel Killer. Though the picture he’d crafted in his head was becoming less
clear the more he got to know the man.

A knock at his door pulled him from his downward spiral of thoughts - thank God for distractions.
A blonde head popped in a moment later, and correction, thank God for Niall Horan.

“Hey, drinks tonight at Molly’s?” He asked with a grin.

Harry sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, “Yeah, why the hell not?”

“That’s the spirit!” The blonde chirped and stepped inside. He looked down at the paperwork on
Harry’s desk and let out a low whistle, “This all for the Angel Killer case?”
Harry hummed, tapping his pen on the document, “Still no leads, I don’t know, as similar as the
composition of the murder was…it felt…”

“More staged?”

Harry nodded, “Take a look at this.” He handed the headshot of the victim to Niall, “Remind you
of anyone.”

Niall studied the photo a second before his eyebrows shot up, “Looks like Tomlinson.”

Harry sighed, “I get the feeling we’re all holding our breath to confirm that suspicion after the next
murder.”

“If the killer is trying to send a message, why not just go after Tomlinson and get it over with?”

“Thrill of the chase?” Harry shrugged, “Maybe he won’t go after Tomlinson at all.” He knew that
wasn’t the case though, he just needed to use Niall as a sounding-board.

Niall shook his head at that, “He will, it ended with Tomlinson last time, and if Richards is
innocent then that one mistake sent the real Angel killer into hiding, which would’ve pissed him
off. This’ll end with Tomlinson again, though I suspect he’s got something special planned for
him.”

Harry swallowed dryly, “I’ve been thinking the same…about something being planned for
Tomlinson. Just feels like we’re no closer to catching this guy than we were all those years ago.”

Niall hummed, perching himself on the armrest of the chair across Harry’s desk, his eyes distant as
he looked out of the window, “We know he’s a recluse, that he likely lives in the woods, middle-
aged most likely given the timeline.”

“Think he’s pushing early thirties, but not above that.”

Niall acquiesced with a nod, “Okay so the unsub’s in his early thirties, he’s a white male that lives
in the woods.”

“Like nearly fifty percent of the Portland population.” Harry bit out.

“We assumed he lived in the woods back then because of his knowledge of the terrain and his
pattern of killing, what about religious undertones?”

Harry tugged at his bottom lip, “How do you mean?”

“Well look at Viking culture, right? They used this exact method - the Blood eagle, to torture and
kill those they found honourless, or as a sacrifice to the Norse God Odin.”

“You think there’s a Viking in the woods?”

Niall huffed with an eye roll, “No, I think there’s a man with a severe psychosis who might think
he’s a Viking, in the woods.”

“Okay, but back to that thing about being honourless…have we run background checks on all the
victims yet? There’s gotta be some kind of connection here. Especially if the killer is playing at
being some type of vigilante.”

“All the files will be on your desk by tomorrow morning.” Niall grinned. “We can take it from
there.”
Harry pursed his lips in thought, “Would he be looking at honourless deeds in a modern setting or
would it be outdated, like the killings?”

“Vikings were big on, like, their honour code or something? We could look into that?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah I’ll look into it now. Thanks, Ni.”

Niall tapped the desk as he rose, “No problem, let me know if you find anything.”

“Will do,” Harry murmured, eyes already glued to his computer as he searched for information on
Vikings in history. He didn’t look up as Niall shut the door behind him, already in a deep dive with
the research, he’d finish the report later.

He grabbed his notepad and started jotting down some notes. Not everything he found was all that
factual, though if someone believed they were a viking in this day and age, it was very likely they
were looking at the same code of conduct list.

It seemed vikings had nine noble virtues , as the article dubbed it. Those nine included: Courage,
Truth, Honour, Discipline, Fidelity, Hospitality, Industriousness, Self-reliance, and Perseverance.
He wrote down all nine and made a note beside each why it was important for a viking to have
these traits. He also made a note to check if any of the victims had broken any of these codes, if
that was the case it at least gave them some kind of leg-up on the investigation. They could look
for known criminals in the area that matched Tomlinson’s description and keep an eye on them. It
was something at least.

Though, again, this was all speculation and if the killer suffered from a particular psychosis -
which they believed he did - then he could be projecting certain honourless deeds on his victims. In
fact, at this point, if he’d left his psychosis untreated it was likely he only saw Louis when he’d
killed his first victim in five years. If the next victim looked like Louis, then that might solidify
that theory too.

Harry sighed but continued with his research, this was one case where he absolutely could not slip
up. Now that he knew the man whose life was on the line, it felt, somehow, more personal.

“Head still stuck on the case?” Niall asked around the lip of his beer bottle.

“Still stuck on a little clairvoyant, more like.” Zayn smirked and Niall chuckled.

Harry shot them both a glare. They’d been teasing him relentlessly since they’d decided to head to
a place called Sixth-Sense instead of their usual haunt, Molly’s. Harry had sent the looping neon
sign a scowl that had caused Niall to cackle and Zayn to give him that knowing smirk that was sure
to piss him off.

The bar was crowded so they’d been seen to by a sweet waitress that Niall had spent most of the
night eyeing. It was embarrassing the way the blonde had tripped over himself trying to order their
drinks.

“You got a crush or something?”

“Or something.” Zayn chirped again.

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry snapped, slamming his hand on the table. Nearby patrons shot them
curious glances, “I’m not even attracted to him.” It tasted like a lie, but he wasn’t about to admit a
thing to his two idiotic best friends.

“So you won’t mind if I try him?” Zayn asked, eyes stuck on Harry’s face, reading him. Fucking
profilers .

“He’s a suspect, so yeah I would mind. After he’s cleared, you can do what you want, as long as
he’s fine with it.” He averted his eyes to look over at the bar, he needed another drink.

“ As long as he’s fine with it. ” Niall pouted adoringly at Zayn, “My heart can’t handle the
fondness.”

They both cackled and Harry scowled - again.

“Need a refill?” A voice spoke up beside Harry, who looked up with a smile that froze on his face.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, pushing his glass forward for Liam to top up with the beer
they had on tap.

“‘S my bar.” He said.

Harry clenched his jaw, “Cute name.” He muttered, nodding at the same loopy sign beyond the
counter and above the mirrors where lines of bottles were displayed.

“Thanks, man. Inspired by a cute guy.” Liam sent him a look that had him bristling in his seat.

“Is that right?” He bit out.

Liam grinned, “It is.”

Both Zayn and Niall were watching the exchange curiously, until Zayn’s eyes flashed to the sign
and back to Liam’s face before understanding settled over his features, “You Louis’ boyfriend?”

Liam’s head snapped up at the voice, when his eyes met Zayn’s they widened imperceptibly, “No -
I mean we’re just friends. I’m single”

Harry snorted derisively. Liam sent him a frown before looking back to Zayn, he took his towel
from his shoulder and wiped at the wet rings on the table, as if stalling.

“Haven’t seen you around here before.”

Niall sat up a little straighter, “Yeah we normally head to Molly’s but I found a pamphlet for your
bar on the way there. Great place.” He added with a smile.

Liam nodded, tearing his eyes away from Zayn who was hiding his smirk behind his drink, to
smile at Niall, “Thanks, man.”

“How’d a C.I. manage to secure enough cash to land this place?” Harry interrupted, possibly
rudely.

Liam grit his teeth but didn’t rise to the bait, “Place was a dump when I found it, Lou helped me
fix it up a bit.”

“How kind of Lou .” Harry murmured.

Liam straightened, snapping the towel back over his shoulder and crossing his arms over his broad
chest as he faced Harry, “You got a problem with me or something?”
“Should I?” Harry quirked a brow.

“You’re kind of a dick.” Liam muttered. “No wonder Lou doesn’t like you.”

The words landed unexpectedly sharply and Harry gripped the edge of the table.

“I -”

“There’s no problem,” Zayn spoke up, interrupting Harry’s rebuttal with a cutting look, “Just
enjoying a drink is all.”

Liam looked over at Zayn, a moment later his shoulders loosened and he nodded, “Let me know if
you need anything else, Stacy’ll be by in a couple minutes to check on you.”

Niall and Zayn thanked him as he left.

“The fuck was that about?” Niall asked, sending Harry a confused look.

“Yeah, man. He wasn’t wrong, you were being kind of a dick.” Zayn muttered.

Harry sighed, sinking down a little in his seat, exhaustion settling around his shoulders, “This case
is just driving me insane.”

“The case or -”

“The case , Ni.” Harry snapped.

Niall’s eyes flashed with hurt at his outburst, and Zayn settled a consoling hand on his arm. Harry
rubbed at his eye and released another sharp breath through his nose.

“Sorry, I’m just tired. That Viking research was interesting but didn’t really lead anywhere.”

Niall nodded easily, quick to accept the slight and Harry sent him a soft smile, “I get that, what did
you find?”

“Not much, something about them having nine noble virtues, and if any of those virtues were
broken it made the viking responsible for the misdeed honourless. Hence the blood eagle.”

Zayn pursed his lips, “Nine?”

Harry shrugged, looking over at his partner sceptically, “Yeah, why?”

“Well it’s just…this victim would be the sixth right? Like six Angels of Death.”

Harry nodded, his sluggish mind not really following.

“Well what if the viking theory is right and the killer’s going to murder nine honourless men?”

Harry mulled that over, “Then we’d need to connect specific virtues to each victim.”

The three fell silent as they thought of the past six victims.

Louis opened the front door with pursed lips and raised brows. Not exactly a greeting but better
than Harry expected he’d get. He was dressed in sweats and a lilac jumper that made Harry’s
fingers itch to touch. A belt with bear-spray and what looked like a taser was strapped around his
hips. At least he hadn’t opened the door looking sleep-soft and slightly tousled like the day before.
Harry hadn’t been able to shake the image of Louis leaning against the wall trying to steady
himself after Harry had accidentally tripped the exterior alarm. Booth had tried to call out a
warning but he’d been too stubborn to stop for a moment to listen.

Clifford bounded to the door as Louis bent over to slip on his running shoes. The dog sniffed
around Harry’s ankles before glueing himself to his owner’s side. Louis patted his head before
shutting the door behind them.

“Ready?” He muttered to him, running an eye over Harry’s grey matching jumper and sweats with
the FBI Academy logo emblazoned on the front. His leather harness was strapped over his
shoulders, carrying the weight of his gun at his side.

“Yep.” Harry replied, popping the ‘p’.

Louis bent over to perform some stretches. Harry averted his eyes and looked over at the fog
spilling out from the forest. He sighed. It looked wet and cold and wildly unpleasant. He didn’t
bother with a warm-up routine as he’d walked the long stretch of the driveway to the house.

He was still looking out at the forest when Louis set off at a run. Harry made a noise in the back of
his throat and hurried to match his pace.

“Could’ve waited.” He muttered.

“S’not a race.” Louis said back, his eyes on the path up ahead.

Harry rolled his eyes as they breached the forest line, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I prefer silence while running, so.”

Harry clenched his fists as he ran, annoyance flaring up in the pit of his stomach. He honestly had
no idea how he’d be able to subject himself to the torture of this man’s company for the forseeable
future.

“I’m doing you a favour.”

Louis snorted, “Yeah, not like there's a paycheck involved.”

“Fuck, you’re a real piece of work.” He snapped.

Louis was quiet for a few minutes, soft puffs of breath spilling from his parted lips. He dodged a
few low hanging branches, and hopped over patches of slippery moss.

“Liam told me you showed up at his bar.” His tone of voice was judgemental, accusatory.

“Niall found the place, wasn’t scoping out your boyf -”

“Would you cut that out?!” Louis exploded, coming to an abrupt stop, Harry halted a few paces
ahead, “That’s my best mate alright? You belittle my friendship every time you call him that.”

Clifford whined as Louis’ trembling fingers scrubbed over his face.

“Suppose that’s fair,” Harry admitted at last, “Doubt he'd have checked out my partner if that were
the case anyway.”

Louis dropped his hands from his face and frowned at Harry, “He what?”
“You jealous or something?”

Louis threw his head back and groaned, long and loud, “Jesus Christ , you’re insufferable.”

Harry was about to respond when Louis took off at a jog again, he clenched his jaw and followed.
At this point he was certain they’d kill each other before the case was even solved.

They remained quiet for most of the run, though Harry noticed Louis shooting glances at Clifford
every so often, then looking into the trees beyond the path, a line appearing between his eyebrows.
The dog seemed to be looking around too, eyes tracking over the trees they ran by.

“What is it?” Harry asked, voice steady even though they’d covered quite the distance already.
Louis merely shook his head but didn’t answer. When he started looking around again Harry pulled
him to a stop with his hand at the crook of Louis’ elbow, he dropped his arm when Louis stepped
out of his reach and rubbed over the spot Harry’s fingers had touched. His large blue eyes fixed on
Harry’s face as his chest rose and fell in short pants.

Harry swallowed and looked beyond him, around them. “Something’s bothering you, spit it out.”

Louis licked over his lip ring before sucking it into his mouth as he darted a glance ahead of the
path, “We’re, uh, we’re near where Cliff got a bit spooked. He’s kind of reacting the same way as
before, so I was just keeping an eye out.”

Harry frowned, looking at the path, it came to an end up ahead, the trees denser, “You don’t go
further than that though, do you?” He asked, gesturing at the sort-of dead-end.

Louis gave a half-hearted shrug.

Harry dragged a hand through his curls and released a disbelieving chuckle, “So let me get this
straight, you run beyond the path with a can that’s low on bear-spray and a service-dog that has no
attack training.”

Louis rolled his eyes, “Well I’d hope Cliff wouldn’t try to attack a bear.”

“If it comes down to it, he could at least buy you time to get away.”

Louis’ eyes widened in horror as he dropped a protective hand on his panting dog’s shaggy head,
“Jesus, you’re cold.”

“I’m realistic.” Harry snapped. “Besides, I reckon that dog would run at the bear or wolf, or
whatever the fuck, regardless of the situation.”

When Louis didn’t dispute the claim Harry released a long-suffering sigh, “How the fuck have you
survived this long?”

Louis flinched, stepping back slightly and dropping his gaze. Harry dropped his hand from his hair
and cursed under his breath.

“Sorry, that was…I’m still adjusting to this.”

Louis bit his lip but offered a nod, though he still wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. Something about it
felt like a loss so he stepped forward and carefully, slowly, laid a hand on his arm. Louis looked up
at him quickly, eyes cautious as they darted between his own.

“I’m sorry.” Harry said, as sincerely as possible.

“Okay.” He whispered back, eyes softening slightly. They stayed like that for a beat too long
before Harry looked away and cleared his throat.

“C’mon, show me where you stopped before.”

Louis nodded and they took off again. When they passed by the final marker of the path, Harry
gave Louis a dubious look. He didn’t like the fact that Louis came out this far into the woods,
something about the thought of him, in his soft lilac jumper and sweats barreling through an
empty, unmarked patch of woods made his skin prickle with unease.

He’d just have to make sure Louis didn’t go running by himself from this point onwards. Or well…
until the case was over. Though there were still wild animals in these woods, any number of them
could stumble across Louis and Clifford and decide to make quick work of them. The thought of
seeing his face splashed across the evening news as the victim of a brutal bear mauling made him
shiver. Though it was likely just the cold, damp air slipping under his jumper, cooling his sweat.

When Louis started slowing down, Harry matched his pace until they were walking, their heart
beats slowing as they caught their breath.

“Was around here.” Louis said, glancing around once more, stepping a little closer to Harry’s side -
though probably only because he was the one with the gun.

Harry looked down at the forest floor, there weren’t any tracks besides their own, and he knew the
bears were hibernating at this time of the year. Clifford had his ears perked for any sounds but
seemed at ease, at least.

“Maybe a passing wolf pack,” Harry shrugged.

Louis nodded quickly, “Yeah, that must’ve been it.”

Still Harry walked a little further and peered into the forest, nothing seemed out of the ordinary,
though he wasn’t all that clued up on what was typically ordinary for a forest.

“In future, how about you stick to the path?”

Louis hummed, “I know these woods well, I wouldn’t get lost.”

“Not worried about you getting lost, I’m worried you won’t be found should a lone wolf or bear
attack you.”

Louis opened his mouth as if to argue before shutting it once more, he nodded and looked away
from Harry.

Which reminded him, “Here, got you this.” He pulled the new can of bear-spray out of his pocket
and walked over to Louis. Before he could take it from him, Harry tugged him forward by his belt
and strapped in the new can beside the old one.

He hadn’t realised how close they were standing until he’d looked up to find Louis already looking
up at him with wide eyes, his hands curled against his chest. This close Harry could make out the
constellation of freckles that dusted his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, the slight ring of
darkness under his eyes, even in autumn his skin was golden and his long lashes fluttered slowly as
a breath fell from his parted lips, his eyebrows tugging together in confusion at what Harry had just
done.

Slowly, Louis’ eye tracked over Harry’s face, as if taking in his own details. At last his eyes settled
on Harry’s lips and the frown formed fully, “Thank you.” He murmured softly.

Harry felt suspended in the moment, knowing he should step back but feeling too compelled by
Louis’ reaction to move. Thankfully Clifford chose that moment to bump into Louis’ side, making
him stumble. His belt slipped from Harry’s grasp - he hadn’t realised he’d still had his fingers
curled around it, his knuckles pressed against Louis’ stomach. Fuck, he was losing his mind.

“Don’t mention it.” He said, stepping away. Louis darted a surreptitious glance at him but Harry
pretended not to notice, “Let’s head back.”

The jog back was uneventful. They didn’t speak to one another and Harry let Louis’ soft footfalls
and equally soft breath’s act as a soundtrack to his thoughts as they spiralled.

He had to remind himself that Louis was a suspect, that he was an actor and that Harry was only
here right now to keep an eye on him in case he did something that confirmed his suspicions.
 Louis
Chapter Notes

TW: Panic Attack

Stay safe loves x

Too long we've been denying

Now we're both tired of trying

We hit a wall and we can't get over it

Nothing left to relive

It's water under the bridge

You said it, I get it

I guess it is what it is

It Is What It Is, Lifehouse

Louis still felt a little out of sorts once they’d returned to the house, the skin below his belt where
Harry’s knuckles had pressed into him felt warmer than the rest of his body, though he wasn’t
going to pay too much attention to that. Letting his thoughts trickle anywhere near whatever he
thought he’d seen in Harry’s eyes would lead to madness, he was sure of it. Besides, the man was a
complete and utter arse.

“Want some water…or tea? Coffee?” He wasn’t sure why his voice sounded so uncertain as he let
Harry into the house.

Harry hesitated a beat, “Coffee, please.”

Louis wrinkled his nose as he walked into the kitchen.

“What?” Harry asked, amusement lacing the word.

Louis sent him a look over his shoulder as he placed the kettle on the stove, then flicked the switch
on his coffee machine, “Just a Brit preferring coffee over the offer of tea.” He shrugged.

Harry sent him a real smile at that, his dimples flashing, “Been here long enough, I guess.”

Louis hummed, “So how did you get into the FBI?” He asked as he pulled four mugs from the
cabinet, stretching onto his tiptoes. When his calf-muscle twinged he stumbled slightly to the right
and Harry steadied him with a large hand on his hip. Neither of them commented on it as he
stepped away to grab the milk from the fridge.

“My dad was born in California, so I applied for citizenship when I was eighteen. The process was
fast-tracked because he worked for the government. When he died I applied for the academy - they
didn’t want to accept me at first but my dad had some connections.”

Louis bit his lip as he switched off the stove when the kettle started whistling, “Sorry for your
loss.” He murmured as he poured the water for his tea and then grabbed the coffee pot and filled
three mugs.

Harry shrugged, “We weren’t all that close.”

“And uh…your mum?”

He could feel Harry’s eyes studying him, “Mum’s still in the UK, her and my sister. They visit
when they can though.”

Louis turned to hand him his coffee, ignoring the heat of Harry’s fingers as they brushed over his
own.

“Thanks,” He said.

“Milk and sugar’s on the counter.” Louis called as he carried the other two mugs to the door. He
could feel Harry watching him as he called to Booth who hurried from the car towards him.

“Thanks, Louis.” Booth grinned pleasantly, “Get some decent sleep last night.”

Louis shrugged, “Just about yeah, did you guys manage with the blankets, I have more in the closet
if you need?”

Booth waved him off and then took the two mugs from his hands, “Nah, was more than enough,
thanks a bunch.”

“No problem,” Louis smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched Booth return to the car.

“You gave them blankets?” Harry asked, curiosity filling his eyes as Louis stepped back into the
kitchen.

Louis hummed, “Was a bit cold last night, I offered to let them sleep in the house but, uh, I dunno -
guess Booth decided it was best they stay outside.”

“Nice of you.”

Louis' eyes cut to Harry’s, “Given that you hardly know me, my actions shouldn’t really surprise
you.”

Harry shrugged, “Just commenting, is all.”

Louis sent him a sceptical look, “Yeah but you had your judgy-tone on.”

“ Judgy tone? ” Harry sputtered.

Louis’ cheeks flushed slightly, and he decided to change the topic, “How are things going with the
case?”
Harry’s eyes shuttered slightly as he looked down at his coffee, “No leads yet, but I should be
getting some new info on my desk in a couple hours.”

Louis nodded as he nibbled at his lip ring, “Alright, well…let me know if you need any help?”

“What could I possibly need your help with?” Harry scoffed.

Louis frowned, “I’ve helped with cases before, you know?” What in the gaslighting-fuck? “You
also mentioned needing my input?”

Harry chuckled dryly, “To review your testimony. Petty offences or drug and protitution rings you
were a part of…not exactly groundbreaking detective work.”

Louis’ fists tightened around the sleeves of his lilac jumper, his blush spreading down to his chest.
“At least I got somewhere with those, you can barely handle a single case and it’s taken you years .
Barring one major fuck up.”

Harry’s spine straightened so quickly that Louis stumbled backwards, hands falling to his sides as
his lower back knocked into the counter.

“The only major fuck up was letting you traipse around for media attention to maintain your
innocence.” Harry growled, setting his coffee down with a loud click.

“God, you’d look no further than your own nose. You’re so desperate to cling onto that stupid
Agent’s misguided belief that I was somehow involved.” He could remember that man, Special
Agent Charles. He’d had it out for him from the day he’d woken up in the hospital, and had
followed Louis around after too. He was the also fucking reason Louis even needed Clifford in the
first place. The agent had never let him recover from his trauma in peace.

“Watch it,” Harry snapped, his hands balled into fists.

“You know, I remember you now, no better than a snivelling toddler hanging on his pant leg while
he chased his own tail.” Louis spat. It was a lie but the brief feeling of adoration he got from Harry
when he mentioned the man was enough to take a guess that the agent had been his mentor or
something.

A second later Harry was crowding him against the counter, hard breaths falling from his snarled
lips as his molten green eyes burned into Louis’ own, “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Louis’ nostrils flared, “Step. Back.”

When Clifford whined from the doorway Louis held his hand out towards him, not breaking eye
contact with Harry. The dog settled against his side, grounding him. He fought with all his might
but he could already feel the trembles wracking through his body.

A moment later curls filled his vision as Harry hung his head between them, his shoulders heaved
as he sucked in deep, steadying breaths. He could see now that Harry was trembling too. His arms
braced on either side of his body where he was clutching onto the counter behind Louis.

Harry pushed himself away and straightened, dragging a hand over his face.

“I -”

“Get out.” Louis interrupted, his voice slightly shrill.

Harry clenched his jaw, looking at the floor in front of Louis’ feet, he stepped forward again but
Louis backed further into the counter, “Get out! ”

The front door swung open and Booth hurried into the kitchen, he looked between Harry and
Louis, taking in the way Louis was cowering against the counter, “Styles, it’s time to go.”

Harry wouldn’t meet Louis’ eyes as he shoved out of the kitchen, a moment later the front door
banged shut behind him.

“You okay, Lou?” Booth asked.

Louis swallowed thickly, “I’m fine, thanks.”

Booth stood there for a moment watching him before he nodded and left too, the sound of the door
closing behind him a lot softer.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut in annoyance. The thing was, he hadn’t been remotely afraid of
Harry, didn’t think he could be afraid of Harry. His body and mind and senses still confirmed that
he was the safest person for Louis to be around. So that wasn’t why he’d reacted the way he had. It
had been the fucking heat and anger that had spilled out between then, the frustration and the
goddamned need that had pulsed along his skin, in his veins. He needed Harry, and it was
absolutely bizarre. He needed to get laid or something to shake this feeling, and fast.

“It’s all coming along so perfectly, Lou!” Cassie clapped her hands together. Her large brown eyes
flitting around the room, her cheeks rosy from excitement.

Louis grinned, it had taken him two hours and a soothing shower before he could leave the house
to meet with Cassie. He’d only grumbled a little when he’d noticed the shiny black SUV tailing
him from his house. Booth and Enzo had parked down the road and hadn’t interfered when he’d
entered the building to his charity.

His eyes skimmed over the room, it was only just prepped for building, the exposed pipes and piles
of plastic and heaps of bricks had him feeling excited to see the end result though. This would be
another wing where they’d spread out some beds. Each bed would be separated by dividers and
would have a bedside table and a desk. It wasn’t much but it offered privacy where needed and it
was more than he’d ever gotten in the beginning so he figured the kids would be happy.

“They said they’d get started by the end of the week, and should be ready by next month.”

Cassie beamed again, “They’ll love it.”

Louis nodded, winding his fist around Clifford’s leash as he took in the room. Memories of his own
past flashed through his mind; if he’d stumbled across a place like this his life would’ve ended up
so much differently. He just hoped he could save at least one person from the same fate.

“Any new kids?”

Cassie looked at him, her eyes softening, “Uh, yeah actually. A girl, she came in late last night.
She was a bit of a mess but we cleaned her up and got her some food…would you like to meet
her?”

Louis swallowed, “Maybe some other time.”

Cassie sighed, “Lou…they’d all love to meet you. You know the staff talk about you all the time,
I’m sure the kids would like to thank you.”

Louis shook his head, “No thanks needed. Just make sure they’re taken care of, that's all I want.”

Cassie bit her lip, “You’re a good person. What happened in your past…that doesn’t define you,
and no one here will look at you differently.”

Louis sent her a tight smile, “Maybe some other time.” He repeated.

She nudged his shoulder gently as they stepped out of the room and walked down the hallway. The
walls were littered with various styles of drawings, some ranging from stick-figures to realism,
they had some talented kids here. He smiled at a drawing of Cassie and she blushed upon seeing
where his eyes had landed.

“They’re great kids.” She murmured.

“They certainly love you.” He agreed as more drawings of her cropped up.

She chuckled, “Hard not to love the person tucking you in and reading you bedtime stories.”

Louis’ smile slowly faded as he looked down at Clifford, “It’s more than that, bedtime stories are
the bare minimum. You love them back, unconditionally.” He murmured the last part softly,
though Cassie heard and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“So, have you reconsidered my other offer?”

Oh, boy.

“Uh…which offer was that again?” He stalled.

She rolled her eyes good naturedly, “Evan really wants to meet you, I showed him your picture and
I swear he drooled.”

Louis chuckled in surprise, “I don’t know, Cas.” She’d been trying to set him up with her brother
since they’d met and while Evan was a handsome bloke, Louis had never really been ready to
venture down that path. Especially when it was so close to home, “What if it doesn’t work out?”
He voiced out loud.

Cassie shrugged, “At least you tried.”

Louis bit at his lip ring, recent events with a certain Special Agent flashing through his mind, “I
mean, I guess I could meet with him?”

Cassie’s head whipped to him, her eyes large, “Seriously? That’s great, I’ll send him your
number.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and he groaned internally as her fingers flew
over the keypad, “Done!” She chirped.

“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

“Oh hush!” She said, slapping his shoulder lightly, “Even Liam agreed it was time.”

Louis frowned, “You and Liam talk about my sex life?”

“Who said anything about sex? Louis Tomlinson , are you planning to seduce my baby brother?”
She pressed her hand to her chest, her tone scandalised.
Louis’ face flooded with colour, and he sputtered out, “I…n-no! What?”

Cassie threw her head back and cackled, “Just kidding!”

“You’re the worst.” He muttered, shaking his head on a chuckle.

She sent him a wink, “But you love me.”

He nudged her shoulder but agreed.

Louis spent the rest of the day working on his latest chapter. His agent had been on him to
complete at least six more chapters this week, which wasn’t too extreme but given recent events, it
made the task feel especially daunting. He just couldn’t get his mind to focus, the story kept taking
a turn he didn’t feel it was quite ready for, or that it was even meant for. It came out dark and
headed far too near thriller-genre territory for his tastes.

He’d texted a bit with Evan after he’d reached out to Louis and they’d agreed to meet for dinner the
following night, though Louis couldn’t even muster up any excitement over the prospect.

He’d had to take a few breaks in between to walk Clifford, and while the fresh air had helped, the
sight of the SUV parked out front had sent him back inside feeling on edge. He felt trapped and
itchy in his own skin and he couldn’t stop his mind from circling back to how Harry had looked in
the kitchen.

With a sigh Louis decided to take another shower before bed, thinking it would clear his head. He
stood there under the spray of the water and let his mind settle, it’s warmth cascaded down his
back and goosebumps spread over his skin when he lightly ran his nails across his stomach. An
image of Harry breathing heavily as his burning gaze cut into Louis’ slammed into his mind. He
braced a hand on the shower wall and squeezed his eyes shut, though he already knew it was too
late, he could feel his cock hardening between his legs.

“Fuck,” He muttered.

He contemplated his options, but the second Harry’s parted lips filled his mind's eye he wrapped a
firm hand around himself and choked on a groan. It hadn’t been that long since he’d gotten himself
off, though clearly long enough for heat to swell in his gut upon the first stroke.

He bit his lip as he pumped his hand and thumbed at the head, unable to stop the flow of images
filling his mind. Of Harry tugging on his belt to draw him closer. He moaned as a bead of pre-
come blurted from his cockhead at the possessive action. Was it possessive or had it just been
arrogance?

Fuck, Harry was so arrogant.

The thought had arousal rushing through him, his skin prickling as the steam swirled around his
body. He pumped his hand faster, the sound of his cut off groans and tugging flesh echoing off the
walls.

He leaned his forehead against the arm braced on the wall, pants falling from his parted lips. Again
he saw Harry, but this time his large hand was wrapped around Louis’ dildo, lips twisted in a
knowing smirk. Heat surged in his gut, building, cresting.

The last thing to fill his mind was of Harry boxing him in against the counter, his arms trembling in
barely restrained anger. He’d looked fucking devastating, ravishing.

His heated eyes flying over Louis’ face.

Louis moaned loudly as he spilled over his fist, he bit into his forearm to prevent himself from
crying out the agent’s name as stars burst behind his eyelids. He’d stooped low tonight, but he
wouldn’t stoop that low.

When he pushed away from the wall after he’d caught his breath, mortification flooded him. What
the fuck had he just done? He scrubbed his clean hand over his face and sighed, letting the water
wash away the humiliation. No one had to know, he’d just pretend it never happened, it would be
fine.

Night terrors held him hostage for most of the night. When he was able to draw in deep, sobbing
breaths, memories would assault him from all angles. The scar on his back burning as if the skin
had split open while he’d tossed and turned. Clifford stayed by his side as he wept into the dog's
fur, though for the first time, it didn’t feel like enough.

Louis hadn’t been able to meet Harry’s eyes the next morning. He could feel his own blush and
kept his head angled away at every opportunity, though he knew the agent was watching him,
studying him. He wished it pissed him off more than it made memories of his shower resurface in
his mind. He even kept a few paces ahead of Harry to avoid any form of conversation. As if Harry
could smell what he’d done on him or something, it was all painfully awkward.

Halfway through their run Harry sighed and slowed down, when Louis didn’t follow his lead he
called out, “Louis.”

Louis swallowed thickly and slowed down to a stop, turning to him but keeping his eyes on the
forest.

“We need to talk about it.”

Louis flinched, his mind falling back on the shower, though he knew it was impossible for Harry to
even suspect. He wrapped his fists around his baby blue jumper and hunched his shoulders slightly
as Harry approached him.

“Louis,” Harry breathed and Louis shivered at the sound of the breathy, rough tone. Fuck sake’s.
He ducked his head as a flush painted his cheeks. “I…I’m so sorry.”

Louis’ head snapped up in surprise, his own wide eyes meeting Harry’s remorseful green ones.

Harry bit his lip, he stepped closer still, though nowhere near enough to crowd him, “I…I never
meant to scare you -” Louis made a noise of protest but Harry ignored him, “ - I’d never do
anything to hurt you. I’m not…I’d never touch you like that...”

Like that…

He licked over his lip ring and tried his best to shove those two words away, he was losing his
fucking mind. This was insane. Obviously he was physically attracted to Harry, but he couldn’t
stand the guy, they hardly knew each other, or well, Harry hardly knew him.
So he did the only thing he could to deflect the rising tension, he lashed out, “Are you sorry for
how you acted or for what you said?”

Harry’s eyebrows pinched together in a frown, his eyes watching Louis’ lips as they formed the
words, “What?”

“When you basically insinuated I wasn’t good enough to help with the case.”

Harry looked like he was fighting not to roll his eyes, a muscle in his jaw feathered, “These types
of cases are a little more…complex than what you’re used to.”

“So I’m stupid now, too?” He bit out.

Harry sighed, “Why are you always fighting me on everything I say?”

“Maybe because you talk some shit.”

“I talk shit? That’s rich.”

“Meaning?” Louis glared, stepping towards him. “Hush, Cliff.” He muttered when the dog
whined.

“At least I don’t claim to read minds or whatever it is you think you can do.”

Louis ran his tongue over his lip, the ring catching on the tip as his eyes trailed over Harry, “Fine,
but you asked for it.”

Harry’s eyes lifted from his mouth to meet his eyes, they glowed with challenge.

Louis stepped back and made his perusal of the man before him obvious, though it wasn’t
necessary, he crossed his arms as he spoke, “You live alone, and most nights you don’t get to cook
though you love to meal-prep. You prefer baking over cooking and watch The Great British Bake-
off to unwind, or destress. You graduated top of your class at the academy even though you faced
more obstacles than most, thanks to jealous classmates.”

Harry’s eyes widened, his mouth going slack.

“You hate autumn because it makes your hair frizz, but love that it means you can drink warm
beverages, though if anyone asks you’d sooner lie than admit the seasonal drinks are your
favourite. You miss your family but not enough to take off work to go visit them, because you still
feel like you have something to prove. Your mother misses you but she won’t pressure you, she’ll
leave that to your sister, who’s a bit more pushy. You’re best mates with Zayn and Niall, though
Zayn grounds you, Niall makes you feel a little lighter - he distracts you from the seriousness of
your job. You’re protective, and loyal to a fucking fault .”

Harry stared at him, his eyebrows twitching together as he tried to form a thought. Louis sent him a
mock-salute then turned and continued with his run, Clifford a step ahead.

A moment later an arm banded around his waist and pulled him to a stop, his feet practically lifting
off the ground, he yelped in surprise and spun around to look up into Harry's face.

He looked livid, “Who the fuck have you been talking to?”

“What?” Louis breathed, his pulse erratic from being pressed up against Harry’s chest, with his
large hand splayed out over Louis’ lower back to keep him from running away again.
“Who gave you that information?” Harry snapped.

“N-no one -”

“Bullshit!”

Louis placed both hands against Harry’s chest and shoved, linking his ankle behind Harry’s at the
last second. The agent tripped and fell onto his back, coughing as the air was knocked out of his
lungs.

“This is why I don’t help people like you. When you don’t understand you get physical and
threatening.” Louis seethed, his hands in fists at his sides as Clifford’s barks filled the space
between them. Harry rolled onto his side and slowly got to his feet, he kept his distance this time as
he faced Louis again.

“We both know I wasn’t threatening you, Louis.”

“Do we?” Louis snapped. Harry lifted his hands in surrender, or to placate him, either way it pissed
him off more, “What the fuck gives you the right to put your hands on body just because you’re
angry?”

Harry shut his eyes and drew a deep breath, “You’re right,” He looked to Louis again, “Fuck,
you’re right, okay? My behaviour was unacceptable.”

“I want you gone.” Louis snapped, “I want someone else joining me on runs or whatever. I’m sick
and tired of your hostile energy, I’ve done nothing to you!” He all but shouted. When his hands
started trembling again he sucked in a sharp breath, “I’ve done nothing to you, Harry .” His voice
broke on the last word and he covered his face with his hands as Clifford leaned into him. When he
felt the paw on his hip he cursed and sank to his knees to pull the dog to his chest. His breaths
came out too shallow.

“Fuck,” He muttered, trying to suck in air as dark spots clouded his vision.

“Hey, hey, shh , it’s okay.” Harry was kneeling in front of him, “Lou, just breathe okay?”

Louis made a choked off noise in the back of his throat and Harry grabbed his hands where they
were running over Clifford’s fur frantically.

“Come on, we’re going to breathe together, look at my chest.”

Louis’ eyes fell to Harry’s chest and then Harry was breathing in deeply. Holding and releasing
after a beat. Louis missed the first couple of inhales, not being able to hold it as long. When
Harry’s thumbs ran over his knuckles he felt the tightness in his chest lessen slightly, until he could
hold his breath for equally as long. The ringing in his ears slowly faded and he blinked away a few
tears.

“That’s it.” Harry murmured softly.

When his heartbeat had steadied he pulled his hands from Harry’s and clambered to his feet. When
Harry reached out to steady him Louis stepped out of his reach.

“Lou -”

“Stay away from me.” Louis said as he stumbled back to the path.
“I’m sor -”

Louis spun around and Harry nearly barreled into him at the abrupt action, “You’ve said that so
many times the words have lost their meaning. Maybe try something new and stop acting like a
dick.”

Harry stared at him for a moment, “You just…you threw me off. You know so much about me and
-”

“I get that and I’m sorry, okay? You were so infuriating and I guess I wanted to show off,
regardless though, that doesn’t give you the right to treat people the way you do. Believe me when
I say, Harry, that it’s not like you.”

“You don’t know me…”

Louis shook his head in resignation, “Think I just proved that I do.”

“The trivial things, maybe.” He shrugged though he still looked mildly uncomfortable.

“Maybe, but I still get a sense from people. I know you’d never hurt me - not physically at least,
and while that should be the bare minimum, I know there’s more to you than that.”

Harry dragged his hands through his hair as he released a long breath, “There is…I just - you're not
what I expected.” He said at last, dropping his arms.

Louis bit his lip, “Look, this case has put me out of sorts. Could we just try to be a little kinder to
one another?”

“Y-yeah of course, we can do that.” Harry said quickly, then, “I can get Booth or Enzo to take over
running with you.”

“Not Enzo.” Louis said, likely a bit too quickly.

Harry frowned, “Why not him?”

When Louis bit his lip Harry stepped closer, ducking his head slightly to read Louis’ expression,
“Did he do something to you?”

“No more than you’ve done.”

“Thought we said we’d try this again?”

Louis sighed, “He makes me uncomfortable.”

“Is it…like a sense thing or?”

Louis felt the corner’s of his lips twitch into a smile, Harry was fighting for his life on this. “Yeah
it is, he just…” He shrugged, “watches me sometimes, but not the way that Booth watches me.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, his shoulders broadening slightly, “Watches you how?”

Louis quirked a brow.

“Oh.” Understanding flooded the agent’s eyes, “Yeah we’ll swap him out, they’re due a rotation
soon anyway.”
Louis nodded, “Thanks.”

“What I'm about to tell you might make you a bit uncomfortable given this new information but,
uh…Enzo said that when he passed by the window of your room last night he heard you cry out?”

Louis felt his whole body flush, his eyes widened and his mind threw up giant, flashing abort
lights.

Oh my fucking God.

“Do you remember? It was around two am?”

Louis shut his eyes in relief, so it was only mildly embarrassing, and not mortifying. “Oh, right.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” Harry coaxed gently.

Louis swallowed, “I…I get night-terrors. They’re like nightmares…just different.” He averted his
eyes and decided that now was a good time to start walking again. Harry followed easily.

“Every night?”

Louis shrugged.

Harry remained silent as they walked, he didn’t say anything until they’d reached the house.

“I noticed you didn’t text me your schedule for today?”

Louis ducked his head, “Right, sorry about that.”

“That’s fine, I might have to cover for Enzo tonight though.”

God fucking damnit.

Louis hummed as he unlocked the door.

“So what are you doing today?”

Louis scrunched his nose, thinking of a way to avoid the inevitable, he supposed it was better to
just put it out there though, “I’m going to spend the day writing and, uh, and then tonight I have a
dinner.”

“Most people have dinner at night.”

Louis sent Harry a glare, “With a friend.”

Harry was silent for a beat, enough time for Louis to open the door and kick off his trainers. He
squared his shoulders and looked up at Harry with raised brows, waiting.

“That should be fine.” He said at last as he leaned his shoulder on the door jamb, his eyes looking
over Louis’ shoulder into the house.

“Not really asking for permission.”

Harry’s jaw clenched, “I’m aware.”

Louis nodded, “Well if that’s all…” He set his hand on the door as if waiting to close it, “I need to
make coffee for the guys.”
Harry pursed his lips at the dismissal and pushed away from the door, “See you tonight.”

Louis nodded, though there was no point because Harry had already turned his back.

Bastard.
 Harry
Chapter Notes

TW: Blood and Gore // Body in the woods.

Thank you for all the comments, they're so encouraging :) x

Set me free, leave me be

I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity

Here I am, and I stand

So tall, just the way I'm supposed to be

But you're on to me and all over me

Gravity, Sara Bareilles

He kept fucking up.

Not once but twice now, he’d lost control. Louis had been right, this wasn’t like him, he’d never
met anyone who challenged him like this before and it was honestly making him lose his mind.
The guilt was eating him alive. He’d caused Louis to have a full-on panic attack. He hadn’t done
anything to Harry, he just existed and that seemed to be enough to set Harry off. It made no sense
at all. Though if he knew one thing from this experience, it was that he needed to do better, be
better.

So the first thing he did when he left Louis’ house was to call his mum.

“I have to agree with Louis on this one, honey,” His mum said after he’d unloaded everything on
her while he drove, the disappointment in her tone had his insides twisting, “That’s not like you at
all.”

“I know, I just, I can’t explain it. We’re constantly at each other’s throats. The idea of who he is in
my head is so different from the person I’ve met…”

His mother hummed over the line, “Do you think it’s possible that you’re both dealing with the
same frustration?”

Harry frowned, “How do you mean?”

“Well…you said his gift gave him the sense that he could trust you to protect him,” He pulled a
face at the way she’d worded it, his mum fully bought into the clairvoyant spiel and she liked to
romanticise it, “So it’s possible his senses, which he’s had to trust his entire life, is telling him to
trust you yet at every turn you’re openly hostile towards him and triggering his anxiety.”

Harry’s fists tightened around the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

“Then with you, Charles filled your head with his own prejudices, yet the man you’ve met doesn’t
fit with what you’ve been told. Maybe you’re both lashing out because neither of you know what to
trust.”

Harry hated when she made sense, though this was exactly the reason he always turned to his
mother in moments of crises, “I want him to trust me.”

His mother hummed again, “Sorry, love, but you can’t expect him to trust you if you’re not willing
to trust him.”

Harry sighed, “I don’t want to trigger him again, it was…God, mum -” He choked off as his heart
clenched at how small Louis had looked, curled up around his dog in that baby blue jumper that
made his eyes glow.

“Then don’t. I have to admit, Harry, I’m really disappointed. You owe that boy an apology.”

“I’ve tried but -”

“No, love, you need to show him you’re sorry. Remember what I taught you.” She cut him off
gently.

“Actions speak louder than words.” He murmured as he turned into his apartment block.

He could hear the smile in his mother’s voice when she spoke again, “There we go. I’m sure it
makes it harder that he’s a good looking boy.”

He choked on his spit when he inhaled too sharply, “You - what?”

His mother chuckled, “His face has been in the news for years, baby. Of course I would’ve seen
what he looks like.”

He groaned.

“Gemma thinks he’s very cute.”

“Alright that’s enough.”

She laughed again and he smiled at his phone which was connected to the car’s bluetooth. Once
he’d parked he signed off with her and climbed the stairs to his flat to get ready for the day.

For now he’d put Louis out of his mind and focus on the case, they’d gotten some leads after all.

Aaron Blake had been missing for two days until now. According to state police a missing persons
report had been filed, though his family had tried to get police to search for Aaron before the
allotted twenty-four hours. Harry had asked that all missing-persons cases be sent to their office
after the previous victim had been found.

Yesterday he’d called for an update after he’d received the full background checks on all the
victims. The state police had emailed a head shot of the kid and Harry had frozen when his eyes
had landed on the face. Blue eyes, light brown hair and a slender frame. He’d squeezed his eyes
shut for a moment, no longer seeing Aaron but another set of familiar blue eyes staring back at
him, with the giant red missing banner below. Niall had tried to console him after they’d pinned
Aaron’s photo to the bulletin board but Harry couldn’t seem to see past the blue eyes.

They’d agreed that the killer was targeting Louis-lookalikes with shady backgrounds which had
led to a deepdive of all available agents searching for something to prove the six current victims
had something to connect them all. The five from five years ago and the one most recent.

As time wore on with no results he had a sneaking suspicion he’d have to call Louis in to look over
the victims reports to see if he could…sense anything.

Today though, they’d gotten the call that Aaron had been found. The seventh victim.

Harry, Niall and Zayn were quiet as they drove to the location in the woods that the forensics team
had sent them. He’d gotten a rather vague text from Louis just before the call had come through
that he couldn’t shake.

L: Something feels off, can’t explain it. You okay?

He hadn’t known how to respond to that, especially after the fact that Aaron had been found. He’d
eventually let him know he was fine and that he’d fill him in later. Not wanting to worry him over
it just yet.

Once they’d parked, the three agents exited the car and made their way through the forest. Yellow
tape was stretched out between two trees and they ducked beneath it, flashing their badges to the
state police. Niall made a sound in the back of his throat when they arrived at the crime scene.

There’s so much blood, was Harry’s first thought as his eyes ran over the body.

The man’s wrists had been bound to two separate branches, his forehead leaning against the base of
the tree. Leaving his back on display. There were flies everywhere, their buzzing like a macabre
orchestra. An image of Louis spread out like this flashed through his mind and he felt bile rise in
his throat. He quickly shot a text off to Booth to tell him to keep Louis indoors, no matter what and
to keep an eye out.

He joined Zayn as his partner stepped closer to the body, examining the way the ribs had been
severed from the spine and pulled open. The victim's lungs had been unfurled, almost gently, and
hung over the exposed ribs, his skin hanging from his armpits to his hips.

Zayn hummed, “You’d have to be pretty strong to pull ribs open like that.”

Harry grit his teeth, “Like a viking?”

Zayn shot him a dubious look but shrugged. Just then a forensics tech stepped forward to take a
sample of the blood with a cotton swob.

Harry turned towards her, “Any chance you can identify the type of weapon used at a glance?”

Her eyes flitted to Harry before she looked back at the victim, she reached out and slowly ran her
finger over the exposed bone, “Will need to confirm it in the lab but I’d say some type of axe, same
as before. Though a scalpel was used to cut the skin.”

“Would I be strong enough to pry these ribs apart?” Zayn questioned.

The tech looked over at him, then Niall and lastly Harry, “I’d say given the trajectory of the blade
marks the assailant is closer to your height and stature.” She said, gesturing to Harry.

Harry nodded, thanking her.

“So he could be lean, not necessarily buff.” Niall said as he stepped up beside Harry.

Harry turned back to the tech, “Did the victim have anything on him, any personal effects?”

She handed him a bag from her coat, inside was a wallet, “No notes, though I don’t think anything
was stolen. There’s just some bank cards and an I.D. for one Aaron Blake.” Harry handed her back
the evidence bag.

“No cellphone?”

She shook her head, “Though you should know…this kill is more precise, like he’s perfected his
methodology. Whatever he’s done, he’s leaving no room for error.”

Again… Harry’s mind whispered and he grit his teeth.

Niall circled the victim to look at his face, “Uh…Haz, you might want to see this.”

Harry walked over to Niall’s side and followed the line of his finger. There on the victim’s cheek,
carved out in the skin lay a giant ‘L’. Harry felt his insides turn to ice as he drew away, he pinched
the bridge of his nose to calm the tumultuous rage flooding his system.

“I think it’s, like, a message.” Niall said, eyes wide.

“Niall, an empath, thinks it’s a message.” Zayn said dryly.

“Quit.” Niall whined with a pout.

The forensic tech snorted behind them.

“I need to make a call,” He muttered as he left Zayn and Niall with the body and their bickering.
Harry punched in the number and paced as it rang.

“Booth.”

“I need you to bring Louis to the Field Office, tell him he can work on his book in my office, but
that we need him to look over some profiles.”

Booth cleared his throat, “He’s in a bit of a mood today.”

“A mood?” He bit out.

“Yeah, mouthed off at Enzo earlier when he cracked a joke about Louis stretching after his run on
the deck.” He chuckled though it sounded forced.

Harry’s nostrils flared, “Tell Enzo to report to me, bring Louis in, no exceptions.” He hung up
instead of waiting for a reply.

He was making his way back to his partners when his phone vibrated with an incoming text.

L: Dopey and Sleezy said I had to come in, next time just ask me, maybe?
Harry felt a chuckle slip from his lips, which was highly inappropriate given the current
atmosphere.

H: I’m busy. Don’t put up a fight please.

L: When have I ever? ;)

Harry rolled his eyes as he locked his phone. Zayn sent him a questioning look when he joined
them once more, which he ignored.

“We should head back, let the techs handle the clean-up. We’ll wait for their findings from the
lab.”

Niall and Zayn shared a glance as if willing the other to speak.

“What?” Harry sighed.

“We heard you wanted Louis to look over some profiles, any particular reason?” Niall asked, his
face the picture of innocence.

Harry licked his lips, contemplating answering, then shrugged, “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to see if
he could get a read on the victims.”

“A read, or a read ?” Zayn asked, raising his eyebrows on the inflection.

“What’s the difference?” Harry muttered as he led them back to their SUV.

Zayn sent him a grin, “None, just wanted to know.”

Harry bit back a retort.

“So we’re bringing the clairvoyant on the case?” Niall asked excitedly.

“We’re keeping Louis close.” Harry corrected.

Zayn and Niall shared a glance over Harry’s head but he ignored them.

“So let me get this straight…you want me to sit here,” Louis gestured at the chair across from
Harry’s desk, “To do my work and then look at profiles…while you sit there” He pointed at
Harry’s chair, “and do your work?”

“Yes,” Harry said, walking around Louis and Clifford to pull out the chair for him to sit down.
Louis raised his eyebrows at the gesture and Harry just barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

Slowly, Louis sank into the seat, then made a noise of surpise as Harry pushed it in while he was
seated, “Thanks,” he muttered, cheeks pink and Harry was so, so fucked.

Harry placed the files in front of him then took his own seat and booted up his laptop. He could
feel Louis’ eyes on him as he typed in his password and sent an email to his team to let them know
they needed to keep an eye out for the lab’s files. He saved the images he’d been sent from the
crime scene in a seperate folder, then opened them up and titled the screen away so that Louis
couldn’t view them.

“I’ve seen them before you know, the crime scene photos. The older ones.”
Harry’s eyes snapped up to Louis’, who was watching him curiously as he nibbled at his lip ring.

“When?”

Louis averted his eyes as he lifted his bag onto his lap and pulled out his laptop, “Uh, w-when I
was in the hospital. Agent Charles interrogated me after I’d woken up. Shoved the photos in my
face to see my reaction.”

Harry felt his stomach turn at the information, “I didn’t know about that.”

Louis frowned as he switched on his laptop and started typing in his own password, “You didn’t?”

“It’s not exactly protocol, so no.”

Louis’ cool eyes met his own, “Is it protocol to withhold morphine from a patient against the
nurses’ orders until they comply with an interrogation?”

Harry felt his heart stutter in his chest, “Who, Charles? He wouldn’t -”

“Wouldn't he?” Louis whispered, turning back to his computer.

Harry swallowed hard and blinked a couple times, trying to process it all. He’d seen Louis’ hospital
photos, his body broken and bruised, blood covering every inch of skin and his clothes hanging in
tatters around his slim limbs. When his eyes fell on Louis now, he just…couldn’t imagine him like
that. He’d been viewing that Louis and this Louis as two separate people this entire time. It caused
a physical ache in his chest to imagine this Louis broken like that, to picture him hurt. He cleared
his throat and averted his gaze, trying to shake the image.

Today Louis had chosen to wear a baby pink jumper over black skinny jeans, and the same dirty
toms. He kept his fists tucked away as he hummed a tune under his breath, when he caught Harry
watching him he blushed and muttered an apology.

“It’s fine, was just trying to place the tune.”

“Oh, uh, it’s jazz - find the music soothing.”

Harry nodded though inside he was turning into a puddle of mush. How was Louis so soft? How
had Charles taken one look at this kid and thought he was capable of pulling ribs from a man’s
back and spreading out his lungs. It just didn’t fit. Not now that he knew for certain Louis hadn’t
been involved, they’d kept an eye on him for most of the week. He hadn’t done anything nefarious,
besides drive Harry up the wall. There was the possibility he was involved in other ways, he
wasn’t discounting that, it just didn’t add up.

Yet. He reminded himself firmly.

“What happened with Enzo after I left?”

Louis' eyes turned steely and he stopped humming, “Nothing.”

“Lou.” He warned.

It was the second time he’d let the nickname slip, but he supposed there was no going back now,
and Louis didn’t correct him.

“Just said that the sweats I was wearing weren’t proper for stretching, that I should try something a
little…tighter.” He was blushing as he spoke and Harry felt livid.
“He won’t be returning after today so -”

“You should file a harassment charge or something, to make sure he doesn’t treat other agents or
people like that.” Louis muttered softly, though his voice was strong enough to interrupt Harry.

Harry nodded, “I’ll give you the paperwork to fill out and make sure it’s filed.”

Louis looked up at him in surprise, his fingers halting over his keyboard, “Wait, really?”

Harry frowned, “Yeah?”

Louis beamed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Harry looked back at his work, trying to ignore
whatever the fuck was happening to his stomach.

“Have you eaten yet?”

Louis shook his head, “But I’m fine.”

“You should eat,” Harry said as he reached for his phone. “Chinese okay?”

Louis grinned again and Harry took that as confirmation.

Harry pushed his chow mein aside as he watched Louis nibble distractedly on an egg roll, he
wasn’t sure how to broach the topic, knowing that Louis was likely going to bite his head off.

“So, about this dinner tonight…”

Louis looked over at him, his lips now wrapped around the egg roll, and Jesus, seriously? Harry
narrowed his eyes at his own food he’d pushed aside. A delicate slurping sound filled the silence
and Harry clenched his fist under the desk.

“Try it,” Louis said, looking down at Clifford and extending half of his egg roll. Clifford gave it a
dubious look then gently pulled it from Louis’ fingers with his teeth. Louis sent him a pleased
smile as he chewed. Harry felt something in his chest soften at the sight.

“What about the dinner?” Louis asked as he wiped his hands on a napkin.

“I might need to join you,” Louis’ eyes widened and Harry hurried to add, “Not like, at the table,
I’ll sit somewhere else.”

It was Louis’ turn to narrow his eyes as he studied Harry. A moment later the suspicion cleared,
“The victims look like me.”

“How the fuck?” Harry breathed, leaning back in his seat in disbelief.

Louis titled his head to the side, as if listening to something that only he could hear, “There’s
something else…” He shrugged, “You might as well tell me, it’ll come to me eventually.”

“Louis.” Harry warned, tone brooking no argument.

“You can come on one condition.” Louis said.

Harry quirked a brow.

“You’re not allowed to intimidate him.”

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to intimidate the kid.”

“He’s not a kid, and neither am I for that matter.” Louis growled. With his soft appearance he
looked more like a disgruntled kitten.

“You’re four years younger than me, that’s a kid in my books.” Harry shrugged.

“Three. I’m a Christmas Eve baby, and your birthday’s on the 1st of February, so.”

“You need to stop with that shit, it’s weird.”

Louis flushed and turned back to his work, when his fingers trembled over the keyboard Harry
frowned.

“What about what I just said made you anxious?” He asked hesitantly.

Louis looked over at him then back to his screen, “Hmm? Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Want to try that again?”

He sighed and slowly sat back in his chair, chewing on his lip as he petted Clifford’s head
distractedly, “Just typical teenage stuff, kids used to call me names at school - you know, like,
bullies and stuff.” He shrugged.

Harry sat forward and crossed his arms on his desk, “Were you quite open about your…gifts when
you were younger?”

Louis chuckled without humour, “I didn’t know it was a gift back then, I just spouted facts about
people’s private lives thinking it was normal.”

“When did you realise it wasn’t…”

“Normal?” Louis finished for him.

When Harry nodded, Louis curled his hands tighter into his sleeves, it tugged down the front of his
jumper where Harry could just make out a tattoo. Looping text sprawled over his delicate collar
bones. His stomach tightened.

“Uhm, ‘round about the time me mum chucked me, happened to coincide with me coming out to
her.”

Harry froze, his lips parting slowly, “She…what?”

Louis turned sad eyes onto him, riddled with acceptance of his past life, “I’d just turned seventeen,
wanted to be true to meself. She didn’t accept that, so yeah. Spent a year on the streets then snuck
onto a tradeship not knowing where it was headed and the rest is history.”

Harry’s heart somersaulted in his chest at the thought of a younger Louis, all alone on the streets
and then later hidden away under a giant ship. The thought left a hollow feeling in his chest.

“I don’t need your pity, Harry.” Louis whispered.

Harry cleared his throat and started packing away their leftovers, still lost in thought. His mind
conjured up a photo of Louis from when he’d just joined the gang, how Harry had assumed he’d
disguised himself as some twink for sympathy. God, he was a dick.

Louis giggled, “A twink , seriously?”

Harry gaped, “Can you read my mind or something?”

Louis shook his head on a laugh as he raised his hands to placate him, “No, nothing like that. I just
get, like, flashes of words or images. If they’re about me I can read them a little easier.”

“That must make going on dates an interesting experience.”

When Louis’ laugh softened and then petered out Harry wished he hadn’t said anything.

“Uh, yeah, they can be.”

“I like your jumper,” Harry blurted.

Louis' eyes widened as he looked up at him, then he giggled again, pressing the back of his wrist
against his mouth, “Even I wasn’t expecting that, but thank you.” His cheeks were rosy when he
lowered his arm. “Guess the talk with your mum helped?”

Harry rolled his eyes as he chuckled, “Guess this is my new normal. Yes, it did, she’s a clever
woman.”

“That she is,” Louis murmured, then frowned, “Uh, I think you should call your sister - Now, you
should call her.”

Harry grabbed for his phone, sitting up quickly as he dialled Gemma’s number.

“Woah that’s weird, I was just about to call you!” She laughed as she answered the phone.

Harry shot a look at Louis, “Yeah…weird. Everything okay?”

“You wont believe this but…we’re pregnant!”

Harry felt a large smile burst across his cheeks, Louis grinned at him, “What!? Gem, that’s great.
I’m so happy for you.” He knew that his sister and her husband had been trying for a few months
now. They’d been married for three years and had decided it was time to take that final step.

“So you should visit for Christmas!”

Harry bit his lip, “Gem, I’d love to -”

“No ‘buts’, H. I’m pregnant, you’re going to be an uncle.” She paused then murmured, “Don’t
make me beg.”

Harry sighed, but smiled through it anyway, “Yeah alright, I’ll be there.”

“Yay! Okay, but I need to call mum, don't tell her I told you first.”

“Love you.” He murmured as he hung up.

He looked over at Louis, “I feel like I should keep you in my pocket.”

Louis choked on a laugh, “I swear you’re the only person that still surprises me.”

“ I surprise you ?”
Louis sent him a wink.

They continued in silence after that. Harry printed out a few more articles on the ‘Blood Eagle’,
though according to what he could find, there was no real proof that this was an actual method for
killing during the viking reign. To him, it just proved that the unsub had spiralled in his psychosis,
that he’d possibly envisioned himself as some type of vigilante that needed to doll out his own
form of punishment on the people who’ve been dishonourable. There had to be a trigger
somewhere, a moment in the unsub’s life that had essentially been his breaking point. He made a
note to call Zayn and ask him to check employee databases in the city for any misconduct between
an employee and their employer, if there was any relation to norse mythology.

It all felt a little too open-ended.

According to the nine noble virtues, and from what Harry could gather, there was a strong sense of
community between the viking clans. They were big on loyalty and fidelity, for providing for their
own but also being self-reliant. It was possible that the unsub had viking ancestry…but Harry
suspected he’d felt more tied to their way of living, their values. So something in his past had to
have made him grip onto the mentality, it must have offered comfort in some way.

The question now was…if you fantasise about community and acceptance, was that because you’d
had it at some point and it had been taken away, or did you never have that, did the envy of that
type of lifestyle fester like an untreated wound in your mind?

Did the unsub search for a life similar to the vikings, and when he wasn’t able to find it, did he
then claim it for himself? Did he adopt their values like a cloak for security?

Did that mean he was working alone?

Harry wrote it all down, by the end of it his notebook was covered in question-marks and lines
connecting certain theories. It was starting to paint a picture. Though one word had been circled far
too many times for his liking.

Alone?

They’d questioned whether Richards had been working alone. There was a possibility that Richards
had been a part of the unsub’s ‘clan’, that he might’ve been the one to take Louis that day - and
because Louis had taken a ‘clan member’ away from the unsub, he now sought revenge. The
vikings were protective of their own ‘you harm one, you harm all’ was essentially their mentality.

But what was the connection here? What linked these victims? What connected them to Louis?

He looked up at Louis, who had his eyes narrowed at his keyboard as he typed, his eyes flicking up
every few seconds to watch his progress on the screen. He’d pause momentarily, nibble on his lip
ring and look out the window with a frown, then the frown would ease and he’d start typing again.
It was fascinating to watch him in his element. The way the afternoon sun fell over the side of his
face and illuminated the tips of his eyelashes, softening the sharp cut of his cheek bones and
causing light, delicate shadows to dance along the bridge of his nose.

Sometime during his work he’d pushed up his sleeves and Harry could now make out a scattering
of random tattoos. Some neater than others, they seemed to tell individual stories, not a single one
cohesive to the next. When Clifford stretched beside him, Louis’ eyes softened as he looked over
the dog before he returned to his work.

Was it Louis’ past that had enticed the killer? His C.I. history, or was it more than that? Had it
something to do with his family, the fact that he’d run away from his country? At this point, when
dealing with a psychosis-induced vendetta, it could be neither of those options or all of the above.

There was still the possibility that Louis was involved, though looking at norse mythology - and
vikings, specifically, he doubted they’d harm one member of their clan with the motive for
inevitable glory and not want a stake in it.

Unless Louis had tried getting out of the ‘clan’, or he’d changed his mind after the fact, and that’s
why the unsub was making it personal. The unsub was going after Louis because he’d taken the
fame and never looked back.

Another thought popped into Harry’s head then: Could the charity be involved? Charities were like
communities, right?

God, I’m spiralling.

Louis’ eyes flicked up at his face, then back to his work before he looked up again, realising that
Harry had been staring at him. Harry watched as a delicate blush travelled over the highest peaks of
his cheekbones and curled over his ears. Louis offered him a shy, albeit, unsure smile as his hands
stilled over the keyboard.

“Everything okay?” He asked softly, as if not wanting to disturb the silence that had fallen over
them

Harry hummed, nodding slowly.

Louis bit his lip, his hands slowly inching away from his keyboard as if he wanted to curl them
against his chest, “Should I look over the profiles now?”

Harry’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall above his head, he sighed. “We’ll do that tomorrow,
we should get you home to get ready for your date.”

Louis looked at the time on his laptop, his eyebrows popping up, “Oh wow, yeah. Didn’t even
notice the time.”

“Get a lot done?” Harry asked as he started shuffling his notes together.

Louis grinned and nodded, “Think it’s shaping up well.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

When Louis’ face turned from soft pink to bright red, Harry frowned, “Uh, m-maybe another
time?”

Harry chuckled, deciding to go for humour, “My middle name’s ‘Edward’, in case that handsome
FBI character needs something extra.”

Louis scoffed but it came out more like a choked sputter, “Shut up.”

Realisation dawned and Harry sent Louis a smirk, “Lou…?”

Louis hummed, not meeting his eyes as he packed his laptop away and cleared his corner of the
desk.

“Did you base a character off of me?”

Louis snorted, lifting his bag and draping the strap over his shoulder, slumping a little under the
weight, “Characters need to be three-dimentional, Harry. What could I possibly do with a brooding,
insufferable, brawns-for-brains type?”

Harry lifted Louis’ bag from his shoulder and draped it over his own as he chuckled, “I’m sure
there was a compliment in there somewhere.”

“Case in point.” Louis muttered, though he was grinning as he grabbed Clifford’s leash and nodded
to Harry appreciatively for taking his bag.

Harry held the door open for him, then locked his office.

“Just need to stop by Zayn’s before we head out.”

Louis nodded just as Carter pulled up beside him, he jumped slightly at his presence, having been
too distracted by talking to Harry.

“I love your dog, he’s so cute!” Carter exclaimed.

“Oh!” Louis looked down at Clifford with a smile, “Yeah he’s great, I -”

“Don’t touch the dog.” Harry snapped when Carter reached down to pet him.

Carter snatched his hand back as Louis looked up at Harry in surprise, before he smiled and ducked
his head.

“Sorry, boss.” Carter laughed, though he looked slightly uncomfortable, “I just find service-dogs
so adorable.”

“This one’s on duty at the moment.”

Carter hummed, darting his eyes between Louis and his dog, “Right well, always pleasure, Styles.”
He said to Harry. He sent a nod to Louis before he left.

Louis raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, “You’re popular.”

Harry raised his own brow at the sarcasm, “Right, because popularity is important in a work-
environment.”

Louis shrugged, “Doesn’t hurt to be nice.” He said as they started making their way to Zayn’s
office.

“Did you want him petting Clifford?”

Louis rolled his eyes, “No, but instead of snapping you could try educating him on why it’s not
appropriate.”

“It’s not my job to teach him basic etiquette.”

“If everyone has that same mentality, then no one will learn.”

Harry remained quiet. He wasn’t prideful enough to argue when he knew a valid point had been
made. Although it was beginning to feel like a recurring theme between himself and Louis. Where
Harry was hard and no-nonsense, Louis was soft and sensible. It painted quite the contrast and yet
Harry was still fascinated by him. The way he processed situations, the way he mitigated and tried
to find better alternatives. Louis lived in the grey space whereas Harry’s world was black and
white. Most cops or those who worked in law likely felt the same as he did, though he couldn’t
help but be attracted to the way Louis had the ability to take a step back from a situation and paint
a whole other abject view.

“Zayn?” Harry called, rapping his knuckles on the open door.

“What’s up?” Zayn hummed and then looked up from his desktop, when he caught sight of Louis
over Harry’s shoulder he smiled, “Hey Louis, how are you?”

“Hi Zayn, I -”

“He’s good. I need you to look into any employer disputes that may have been filed in the past two
weeks, any type of misconduct - try to keep an eye out for anything bizarre.” He interrupted,
stepping slightly in front of Louis to block off Zayn’s view, not for any other reason than that he
needed him to focus.

Zayn quirked a knowing brow but let the moment pass, “Bizarre how?” He asked as he grabbed his
notepad.

“Any type of community dispute…or norse-related.”

He frowned as he wrote it down, “Uh…sure.”

“Thanks.” Harry muttered and turned to leave, ushering for Louis to do the same.

“Where are you two off to?” Zayn called and Harry sighed.

“‘Ve got a date.” Louis said, standing on his tiptoes to peer into the office over Harry’s shoulder.

Silence settled behind Harry so he turned to find Zayn watching him with raised brows.

Wisely, he decided not to comment, “Have fun.”

Louis grinned and tugged on Clifford’s leash as he stepped back from Harry, falling into step
beside him as they left for his car.

He sensed he’d made a mistake the moment Louis stepped out of the house in extra tight skinny
jeans and an even tighter black polo neck jersey. His hair was swirled above his head and when he
hopped in the car the smell of cedar, citrus and vanilla filled Harry’s nose. He tightened his hands
on the steering wheel as Louis bent over to help Clifford settle between his knees.

It didn’t help that when Louis wrapped a turquoise scarf around his neck it made his eyes shine
brighter than any constellation. They drove in silence to the restaurant, Harry with his shoulders
tensed and Louis with a light smirk twisting his lips, his fingers pressed to his chin and his elbow
propped on the windowsill as he watched the passing scenery out of the passenger window.

Once they arrived, Harry let Louis head into the restaurant first. He’d enter a moment later so it
wouldn’t look like they’d come together.

The hostess sent him a megawatt grin and asked where he’d like to sit, he spotted Louis at the
centre of the restaurant - where he said he’d be for Harry to keep an eye on him - and decided to
grab an empty table against the wall to the right, about two tables away and in direct view.

When he walked by Louis’ table he noticed the man was blushing. He wasn’t sure why until he
took his seat and looked over. They’d been the first to arrive. It didn’t mean his date wouldn't show
up though, yet Louis still looked unsure in his seat as he straightened his utensils, then took a sip of
water and adjusted in the chair.

He bit his lip when Louis leaned over to place his hand on Clifford's head. A few guests were
looking over, turning up their noses at the dog. It was a posh restaurant and they likely weren’t
used to service dogs, but come on? Surely it wasn’t necessary to openly stare at the bloke?

When Louis went back to wringing his hands in his lap Harry grabbed his phone.

H: So exactly how swoon-worthy is my character in your book?

A moment later a snort erupted over the din of murmured conversation, tinkling glasses and
ambient music. Harry grinned as he looked over to see Louis smirking at his phone as he typed
back.

L: If you find a character with no arc and a monotone voice, used to further the plot ‘swoon-
worthy’ then by your standards I’d say…VERY.

H: Bold of you to assume I don’t like a man with no prospects.

Louis bit his lip and giggled. Harry wasn’t sure why but it felt like a win. A waitress stopped by his
table and Harry decided to order a glass of water, he had a feeling this restaurant was slightly out of
his price range.

L: My mistake, I should’ve known you don’t like a challenge.

It was Harry’s turn to bite his lip as he grinned. Fair enough, Tomlinson.

H: So he’s got a monotone voice, no character arc and doesn’t like challenges. You sure
you’re a best-selling author? Sounds a little dry.

Harry looked up just in time to see Louis press the back of his wrist to his lips to smother another
giggle, he felt warmth spread in his chest and quickly averted his eyes. Fuck’s sake.

L: He’s got…potential.

H: Main character potential?

L: Hardly. He gets killed off in chapter 6.

H: :0

A cackle escaped Louis’ lips then, causing a few patrons to turn in their seats at the abrupt sound.
Harry hid his own laugh behind his glass of water that the waitress had brought for him while he’d
been texting.

Louis ducked his head and lifted his phone to start typing again when a man with blonde hair and
blue eyes stopped beside his chair. Harry watched as Louis got up to greet the man, they hugged,
for possibly a beat too long before the man sat down across from him.

Handsome fucker. Harry rolled his eyes at himself. He wasn’t that tall though, so…whatever.

Louis tucked his phone into his pocket and smiled as the man spoke, gesticulating excitedly. A
waitress showed up at their table and the man rattled off an order, Louis remained quiet, biting his
lip as the waitress turned to leave.

Harry wasn’t sure if Louis had wanted to order anything or if the man had ordered for him, either
way it wasn’t his business to speculate or interfere so he scoped out the guy. He didn’t seem to be
concealing any weapons, his eyes were large and earnest and glued to Louis’ face as he spoke. He
was obviously excited. Harry huffed and turned to his own menu, narrowing his eyes as he
skimmed the meals available, his mouth watered at the thought of some red meat. He’d have to
settle for a standard garden salad, though. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford to eat out, he just had to
budget wisely and he’d already done his grocery shopping and meal prep for the next two weeks.

Thirty minutes and three glasses of water later the waitress appeared at his table with a dish that he
was one-hundred percent certain he hadn’t ordered. When he saw the steak and roasted vegetables
laid down in front of him he frowned.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” The waitress turned back with a questioning smile, “I didn’t order this - I asked for
the garden salad?”

Her brows pinched together for a second before her expression cleared, “Right, of course, Mr.
Tomlinson ordered it for you. He said you were welcome to swap it out if it wasn't to your
specifications, though he had a feeling you’d find it agreeable.” She sent him a wink at the
inflection.

Harry felt anger bubble up in his gut but sent her a smile. Once she was gone he sent a glare at
Louis. He didn’t need this kid to flash his money in his face, he was here to do a job for God’s
sake. In spite of his annoyance he still cut into the steak and suppressed a moan upon the first bite.
When he looked up again he felt his annoyance subside as he watched Louis.

He was nodding along to whatever the man across from him was saying, the tips of his fingers
grazing the lip of his wine glass as he listened. The soft glow of the candle light flickered
delicately over his features, though his eyes seemed vaguely distant. When he parted his soft lips to
say something the man cut him off, causing Louis’ shoulders to curl in. This happened three more
times before Harry had to look away again. It wasn’t any of his business if Tomlinson’s date
wouldn’t let him get a word in.
 Louis
Chapter Notes

TW: Flashback / Being held hostage

Stay safe loves! Thank you for all the support x

And in the morning, I'll be with you

But it will be a different kind

'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets

And you'll be owning all the fines

Come on skinny love, what happened here?

Skinny Love, Birdy

To say that the date was not going well felt like a bit of an understatement.

He’d barely gotten a word in all night, not that he always had much to add to the conversation. It
felt as if he were sitting in the audience, attending a one-man play, as he watched Evan talk about
his work, his hobbies and his passions. He didn’t ask Louis about his own hobbies or work, nor did
he let Louis order for himself. He’d only just managed to pull the waitress aside to order for Harry,
sensing that the man was craving steak but refusing to order it.

Evan hadn’t even taken a break in his one-sided conversation while Louis whispered to the
waitress. Louis could sense he was good, friendly even, but there was no potential here for him and
he kind of wanted this night to be over so that he could return home and continue with his book.
He’d left off on a great chapter and he was itching to see where it goes.

After a while he let his mind wonder as Evan chattered away, thinking back to how Harry had
texted him - to cheer him up. The motive had been clear the second he focused on the agent and it
had sent a burst of warmth flooding through him, making him fucking blush like a preteen hiding
under his blankets and texting a cute boy from school. Harry had made the room around him, the
stares, fade to background noise.

He’d never been this soft before, it felt like only Harry could draw up this kind of response in him.
When Clifford released a long-suffering huff Louis nearly laughed, he could fully empathise with
the dog. He could also feel Harry’s eyes on him from time to time. He’d been annoyed when his
food had arrived but Louis felt smug when he snuck a look to see the agent enjoying his first bite.
Feel heat licking at his stomach at the look of pure, unadulterated pleasure on Harry’s face.
He couldn’t focus hard enough to determine what the annoyance had been about without being too
obvious that he was no longer paying attention to Evan, so he nipped his curiosity in the bud and
bided his time. When their plates were taken away, Louis realised he hadn’t eaten all that much.
His stomach still felt tight from all the curious glances he was receiving beyond their table.

The waitress asked if they’d like dessert and Louis quickly, but politely, declined. As far as he was
concerned, the night was over as soon as Evan had ordered for him. He didn’t even like fish.

“I don’t want to freak you out,” Evan said as they stood and pushed in their chairs, “But that man
over there’s been staring at you since I got here.”

Louis looked over to where Evan was discretely gesturing, just as Harry averted his eyes. Biting
back a smirk Louis hummed.

“Think he recognizes you or something?”

“Maybe,” Louis shrugged.

“Should we go back to mine? I have tea.” Evan smiled sweetly. It really was a pity he was Cassie’s
brother, it would’ve made this a lot easier. It didn’t help his case that when Louis met his eyes he
saw a flash-image of himself being bent over a kitchen island by Evan.

“I would’ve loved to, but I have quite a bit of work to do, maybe some other time?” He said,
making sure to look as regretful as possible, while biting back a grimace.

“I’ll hold you to it!”

I’ll bet.

They parted ways amicably before Louis covered Harry’s bill at reception, and decided to head out
so long to wait for him by his car with Clifford. He’d barely made it across the street when a hand
curled around his elbow. Clifford didn’t bark so it was safe to guess who it was.

“Next time wait for me inside.” Harry said, tone verging on annoyed.

Louis smiled sweetly, “I appreciate the chivalry but I can walk myself across the road.”

“You’re not cute.”

Louis chuckled, “Sure.”

Harry hadn’t let go of his arm yet but neither commented on it, so Louis let himself be guided to
the car. He couldn’t quite contain his shock when Harry opened his door and took his hand to help
him up into the passenger seat of the SUV.

He murmured a thank you as Harry put Clifford’s leash in his hand and tucked the dog’s tail to the
side before shutting the door.

What the fuck…

“Have fun?” Harry asked once he’d gotten in and started the car, even though Louis was sure he
already knew the answer.

“Yeah, he was friendly.”

Harry snorted and Louis looked out of his window so he wouldn’t giggle.
“Friendly…so, like, a good conversationalist?”

Louis hummed.

“Personally, I love banter,” Harry went on and Louis rolled his eyes with a sigh, “A good back and
forth, you know?” God, he could even hear the smirk in his voice.

Louis shrugged, “Sometime’s banter’s overrated.”

Harry put on a thoughtful look and Louis had to fight not to laugh, “I suppose you’re right, there’s
just so much you can learn about someone when you’re not letting them talk.”

“Shut up.”

“No, see you’re doing it wrong. You have to talk, and if it looks like I’m about to say something,
talk more.”

Louis giggled, “Fuck off.”

Harry chuckled, smiling over at him. Flashing bursts from passing street lights illuminated the
interior of the car periodically, causing Louis to catch glimpses of white teeth and dimples and
luminous green eyes. Harry’s curls fell over his forehead and like this, he looked so young, so
playful.

“Next time though, don’t pull that shit with my food. I’m working.”

And it’s gone.

Louis sighed, “I just figured you bought me lunch, felt like it was only fair.”

Harry licked his lips and Louis decided to look down at Clifford instead, the dog’s head was
resting on his knee watching him, he petted his fluffy head.

“Thank you for dinner.” Harry said after they’d driven a few blocks.

Louis sent him a grin and they drove the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached Louis’ house at last, Booth wasn’t there. Harry didn’t seem surprised by that so
Louis didn’t allow himself to feel concerned. Harry hopped out of the car and walked around,
though before he could reach his door, Louis pushed it open and hopped out. Once was enough, but
twice? That would certainly go to his head and Louis couldn’t afford to have those types of
thoughts right now, especially when it was becoming increasingly clear that Harry was spending
the night.

“Mind if I head in first after you’ve disabled the alarms?” Harry asked as he unclipped his gun
from his holster.

Louis stumbled slightly in surprise, resulting in a judgemental look from his dog, “Is the gun
necessary?”

Harry shrugged, “No one’s been here for a couple hours, I’d feel better knowing I checked it out.”

Louis looked back at his house, no lights were on inside, which meant he couldn’t make out any
distinct shapes through the windows. He swallowed thickly and nodded. Once the alarm was
disabled Harry made him stand in the doorway with Clifford as he went through the house. Clifford
tilted his head to the side as he watched the agent, then looked up at Louis.
“New normal, pal.” He muttered.

“All clear,” Harry called a few minutes later.

“Roger that.” Louis called back, earning himself a sigh and likely an eye roll in response.

Harry walked back into the entryway, clipping his gun back into his holster, “I’ll be outside if you
need anything.”

Louis turned as Harry passed him and halted him with a light hand on his forearm, “Harry, you
could…you could stay here? Like in the spare room, if you want?” His voice sounded odd, even to
his own ears, almost breathy.

Harry’s eyes travelled over his face for a moment before he cleared his throat and took a slight step
back, “Uh, I mean, would that make you more comfortable?”

Louis bit his lip and nodded slowly.

When Harry ran a hand through his hair, Louis’ eyes caught on the way the muscle in his arm
flickered.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll do that.” He nodded.

“Great,” Louis said.

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and raised his eyebrows in response. As if realising one of
them should move from the entryway, they both turned into the living room, their shoulders
bumping together. Harry’s hand slid to his lower back to steady him when he stumbled to the side
and, fuck, if that didn’t make Louis feel more alien in his own skin.

“Do you need anything to sleep in?”

“I doubt anything you own would fit me.” Harry chuckled as Louis led him to the spare room.

Louis rolled his eyes, “Think I have a pair of sweats around here somewhere that belonged to Liam
if you’d prefer?”

When silence greeted him, Louis looked up to see Harry glaring at the floor, his hands perched on
his hips.

“Harry?”

Harry’s eyes snapped up to his own, “I’ll…yeah uh, yours . A jumper too if you don’t mind.”

Louis shrugged and pushed the door to the spare room open for him before heading to his own to
fetch some clothes. When he returned a moment later it was to find Harry, stripped of his jacket,
and busy undoing his tie.

“Want to take a shower or something, I have some towels?”

He dumped the tie on the settee beside the dresser and popped the first three buttons on his shirt so
swiftly, it made Louis’ mouth run dry, “Yeah thanks,” he nodded his head to the ensuite, “I saw
you have spare toothbrushes as well. Quite the set up.”

Louis wasn’t sure how to read his tone so he just nodded in response as he placed the clothes on
the foot of the bed.
“Okay, well…if you’re thirsty or hungry or something the pantry and fridge are stocked up.”

“Thanks, Lou.”

Louis smiled then stepped back and shut the door behind him, releasing a breath. He couldn’t help
but notice how calm he felt during the entire exchange, even though it was mildly awkward.

When he heard the water from the guest room shower start up, he called out to Clifford and headed
to the door to take his nightly walk. He grabbed his taser on the way and shut the door quickly
behind himself so that the warm air in the house wouldn’t rush out.

Louis let the biting air cool his warm cheeks as they walked, his breaths causing small clouds to
puff out in front of his face. He looked around as he walked but, as usual, it was a peaceful and
undisturbed night. When they neared the front door once they’d circled the house though, Louis
could hear the sound of his name being called out. The voice grew louder and more tense the
closer he and Clifford got to the door. He frowned as he pushed it open.

“Harry?” He asked carefully, turning to lock up.

A second later a hand wrapped around his bicep and he was spun around and pushed against the
door.

“Where the fuck were you?” Harry snapped, his eyes wide and his grip tight, not enough to hurt
though.

And, fuck. He was in Louis’ sweats which were a touch too tight and left nothing to the
imagination, his chest bare and wet from his shower; the ends of his curls sticking to his forehead
and temples and curling around the soft bit of skin just below his ear, even his lashes were slightly
clumped together. He looked…breathtaking.

“I-I -”

Harry’s eyes snapped to Louis’ taser in his hand, he yanked it from his lax fingers and tossed it on
the counter, “Did you seriously go out there while I was in the shower? What the fuck, Lou?”

“I’m sorry - I, you’re right, I was distracted. I’m sorry.” Louis said quickly, eyes wide as he was
finally able to read the flash of fear that Harry had felt for him a moment ago.

Harry’s next breath parted his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut, his hand fell from Louis arm to
settle on his hip, clamping around it.

Louis swallowed, already feeling his body turning pliant at the touch.

When Harry opened his eyes once more, they were no longer as frantic or angry, possibly mildly
frustrated, “No more going out alone.”

“I promise,” Louis whispered into the space between them, feeling his lashes flutter as he looked
down at Harry’s parted and full lips, hovering only a few inches above his own.

“I’m sorry for grabbing you again.” He said, though he didn’t remove his hand from around Louis’
hip.

Louis released a throaty chuckle, “That’s okay.”

His tone sounded sensual again, and fuck, it wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose. Harry just
seemed to bring out this pliant, needy side of him.

Harry bit his lip as his eyes tracked over Louis’ face, he shifted slightly, nearly eliminating more
space between them, as his gaze fell to his lips.

Then he sighed and stepped away, raising his arm above Louis’ head to slide in the final dead bolt
as his other hand dropped from Louis’ hip. Louis took the split-second that Harry’s eyes weren’t on
him to suck in a deep breath, his mind feeling slightly fuzzy from the agent’s proximity.

“Get some sleep, I’m taking you back to the field office after our run tomorrow.”

Louis licked at his lip ring and nodded, shifting to the side to slide past Harry. He could feel the
agent's eyes on him as he went by. He set the perimeter alarm quickly on his way.

“Also, if you could send me the code to your alarms.”

Louis’ fingers froze on the keypad, he looked back over at Harry who was already studying him,
“I…I don’t think I’m comfortable with that.”

“And if I promise not to share it with the other agents?”

Louis contemplated it then nodded slowly, “Just us?”

Harry seemed to soften slightly at the question, “Just us.” So he sent him a smile and pulled his
phone from his pocket to text the agent his codes.

“I noticed you have one to your bedroom door as well?”

“I’ve sent you the code.”

Harry kept his expression blank though Louis could still feel the short burst of surprise that flared
through him at that.

They swiftly bid each other a good night and parted ways in the hallway. For the first time in his
life, Louis’ fingers hesitated over the keypad beside his door. He trusted Harry, of course he did.
He’d given him the codes to all his alarms - so there was no question. Yet he knew that it had
become almost compulsive to have all his security-checks in place before he could commit to
sleep. So he punched in the code and shut the door. When he heard the familiar double-beep his
shoulders loosened and a soft breath fell from his lips.

The room was dark and slightly damp.

All Louis could hear was the sound of his own ragged breaths echoing back at him. He was
huddled in the far corner, away from the door, with his back pressed against the wall. He knew his
arms were clasped too tightly around his knees that were pulled to his chest, that it was restricting
his airflow - but the thought of loosening his body for even a moment had his breaths panting
faster.

Time was irrelevant in the dark space, it just was. There were no sounds, no thoughts, just a
pulsing need to alleviate the fear. It was all-consuming and mind-numbing.

The back of his head hadn’t stopped throbbing - not since he’d last seen the trees and daylight. He
could feel a congealed-wetness against the back of his neck, and the itch of it flaking around the
edges. His clothes were torn, his arms bare and cut up from…he couldn’t remember.

It was so cold.

That was another thought that flashed in his mind. His fear and the cold. Possibly also a hint of
confusion. Why? Why was he here? What had he done? Was it the gang?

It had been two years since he’d helped the state police dismantle the gang though…

It was so, so cold.

He could hear the roof clatter from time to time, as if branches were stroking their twigs against
the panels of metal to tease him. Like nails on a chalkboard. It was eerie.

Everything hurt. His back hurt from being curled up in a ball. His feet hurt from pacing the rough
cement floor. The skin of his ankle burned from the chain cinched too tightly around it. His
fingertips were numb, and his cheeks and eyes felt raw from the endless hours spent weeping.
There was a time, just before the pacing had started, that he’d banged on the door. Relentlessly
wailing for help. It hadn’t ended well. There’d been a man with large, bruising fists. His face
obscured.

So much rage had poured off of him.

Louis only saw blood when he looked at the man. So much blood, and bones.

So Louis had stopped calling for help after…had tucked himself away in the deepest corners of his
mind. Had gone back to the forest, the autumn trees and the smell of damp vegetation. He’d
thought of overcast skies and a shy sun.

One thing he’d stopped doing was hope.

No one was coming to help him. He was alone here. Alone in his pain and fear and the coldness.

Distant footsteps started up beyond the door, the closer they drew the more rapidly Louis’ chest
heaved. When they stopped, a thick scraping sound tore through his eardrums, like a deadbolt
sliding free at the door. It swung open with a loud clunk and Louis shielded his eyes from the
sudden burst of light that poured in.

“It's time,” The large figure in the doorway said.

“No…” Louis croaked, ducking his head between his knees, rocking slightly. His sore back
thudded against the wall.

“Get up.”

“No…” Louis cried, the whine in his voice cracking like parchment.

Strong hands wrapped around his upper arms, yanking at the raw skin. Louis cried out as he was
hauled to his feet, the sudden movement causing a painful throb to spike through his head.

“It’s time.”

“No, no, no…please.” He cried as he was dragged from the room, the sound of the chain snaking
across the floor following him. A moment later he felt a tug against it and stumbled into the man,
his heart pounded rapidly in his chest.
And then a hand was circling around his throat and he was screaming, crying, begging.

“It’s time…to wake up.” The hand moved from his throat to his cheek.

“No!”

“Wake up…” Another hand covered his other cheek.

“P-please!”

“Lou…”

Louis’ eyes snapped open as he gasped. There was a dark outline of a man standing over him.
Holding him still, keeping him trapped.

Louis screamed as he tried to back away and the hands vanished from his feverish skin.

“Lou…Lou, it’s Harry. It’s me.”

Louis paused, mind still reeling as his eyes flew around the room, over familiar furniture - his
room. He was in his room, in his house. In bed and - and Harry was here.

“W-what?”

Harry's face was drawn and tense, his eyes fixed on Louis’ face and his hands hovering between
them, they were shaking slightly, “You were having a nightmare, I heard Clifford whining and
then…and then you started screaming so I came in.”

Louis swallowed around his dry throat and wiped at his face, his hand came away wet with tears as
he released a shuddery breath, “Fuck.”

“Can I sit?” Harry asked, gesturing to the edge of the bed.

Louis scooted over to make room for him and nodded.

Once he was settled Harry looked back over at him, “Can I get you anything?”

“I - water, please.”

Harry grabbed his empty glass from the bedside table and headed into the bathroom, returning a
moment later and flicking the lamplight on as he handed the glass to him. Louis squinted against
the light as he drank greedily, his fingers digging into Clifford’s fur as the dog pawed at his hip.

“Night terror?” Harry murmured as he took a seat once more.

Louis folded his hands around his glass and ducked the agent's gaze, “Sorry for waking you.” He
murmured instead.

Harry shrugged easily.

They sat in silence for a moment longer and Louis drew his knees to his chest, he could still feel
the thumping of his heart beat throughout his body.

“Want to talk about it?”

Louis remained quiet for a beat, then licked his lips, “It hasn’t been this vivid - the dreams, I mean
- since…since right after. The night terrors just impacted my breathing, panic-attacks according to
my therapist.”

Harry nodded, waiting for Louis to continue.

“It felt like a memory,” He whispered at last, eyes fixed on the bed sheet that he’d started twisting
in his free hand. “I was back in that r-room,” he swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes shut, “the
one in the warehouse. It w-was s-so c-cold.”

A large, warm hand clamped around his own, and the tightening in his chest eased a fraction as he
looked back up into Harry’s face. He looked grim, his eyes tired yet alert and sincere, as he drew
the glass of water away with his other hand and placed it on the bedside table.

“Everything h-hurt…”

Harry clenched his jaw, his thumb stroking over Louis’ knuckles, “Lou…can I - do you want me to
hold you?”

Louis felt the breath rush from his chest, the need for comfort overpowering any other sense as a
small noise escaped the back of his throat. Tears pricked at his eyes and he nodded quickly. A
second later he was enveloped in a warm embrace. Strong arms banded around his body as he was
all but pulled into Harry’s lap and rocked soothingly. He buried his face in Harry’s neck and
inhaled his coconut scent, letting it wash over him, calm him. Harry’s skin was hot to the touch,
his large hands digging into the skin of Louis’ waist where his shirt had ridden up. It was
everything he’d ever needed at that moment.

They hadn’t spoken about the night before during their run, nor did Harry bring it up on the drive
to the field office after they’d stopped by his flat. Harry hadn’t offered to show him around either,
just made him sit on the couch in the living room to wait for him while he showered and dressed.
Louis couldn’t really get a fixed read on Harry regarding it, what he could sense was that Harry
was even more closed off than before, and that he had no interest in discussing it.

It made insecurity bloom in Louis’ chest. He’d woken up in bed, swathed in blankets with
Clifford’s head on his chest and no Harry. Not that he’d expected Harry to be there, mind. It was
just that when he sent Harry a soft smile and an even softer ‘Good morning’ once he’d emerged
from the bedroom, the agent had looked away and grunted. Louis had bit at his lip ring during the
entire run, waiting for a moment to bring it up, but that moment hadn’t come because every time
he’d opened his mouth Harry had sped up or slowed down. So yeah, he’d stopped trying by the
time they’d had to endure the ridiculously awkward car ride.

Currently they were sitting in the office, Louis, sprawled out on the floor with the previous victims
profiles in front of him and trying to get a sense of the men. Harry with his focus on the screen in
front of him at his desk. An odd tension had enveloped the space, making it impossible for Louis to
concentrate. He was either picking at his sleeve, shooting glances from under his lashes at Harry,
or petting Clifford - who looked far too comfortable sprawled out beside him.

“Anything yet?” Harry muttered from his desk, still not looking in Louis’ direction.

Louis sighed and sat back to lean against the wall, “Think I’m a little distracted.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at his screen in answer.

“Harry?” Louis started.

“Thought you’d like the opportunity to show off?”

Louis bit his lip, unsure whether that had been a dig or a joke, so he released a chuckle that
sounded confused, even to his own ears. “Uh, yeah, I suppose.” He looked back down at the files,
the faces staring back at him. He hadn’t looked at the latest two yet, he knew what he’d see and he
was gearing himself up for that particular reality. The reality where he was likely responsible for
two innocent people's lives being taken.

Harry grunted again.

With a roll of his eyes, Louis straightened his shoulders and looked to Harry, “Can we talk about
last night?”

Harry frowned, as if trying to remember whether anything specific had happened the night before
that would warrant Louis’ serious tone, which was frankly offensive. “If you feel that’s
necessary?”

Louis clenched his jaw, feeling his cheeks flush, “I just wanted to apologise for - for, uh…” Fuck,
he didn’t even know. For disturbing Harry’s sleep? For making him uncomfortable? Except it had
been Harry who’d held him until he’d fallen asleep, and Harry that had tucked him in after. Unless
he’d not intended for Louis to fall asleep on him, but had expected, like, a bro-hug? Or what if -

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Harry murmured at last, as if sensing his derailing thoughts.
With a sigh he sat back in his seat and regarded Louis carefully, “I should be the one apologising.”

Louis frowned, confused.

Harry looked down at his hands in his lap, “I can’t help feeling I took advantage in some way,
while you were fragile. I’m sure you have better ways of dealing with your anxiety than being
pulled into someone’s lap.”

Louis softened at that, a smile tugging at his lips. So that’s why Harry had been so awkward? “N-
no, that was…God, Harry, I haven’t slept that well in years.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose as he looked back up, eyes widened in surprise, “Yeah?”

“Yeah so, you know, thank you.” Louis shrugged, the material of his pastel yellow jumper slipping
on his shoulder slightly. Harry’s eyes flitted over his exposed collarbone before meeting his eyes,
his shoulders loosening on an exhale, and then he smiled - the dimple making an appearance.

“You’re welcome, Lou.” he murmured.

Louis smiled down at the profiles, though the smile froze on his face as soon as his fingers grazed
the one headshot.

“Liar,” he whispered, staring into brown eyes.

Harry’s head snapped up in confusion, “What?”

Louis got to his feet hastily, grabbing the file and hurrying over to Harry’s side, “Him,” he gestured
at the photo of Ryan Hendriks, “ Liar . That's what I got.”

Harry pursed his lips, then stood quickly, “Wait here a sec.” He said as he left the office in a rush,
Louis looked back down at the photo. Feelings of deception swirling just beyond the edges of his
mind as his eyes traced over Ryan’s face. There was a darkness here, so blatant he wasn’t sure how
he’d missed it before. Something about the face felt familiar. When Harry came in a moment later,
wheeling in a large whiteboard with some markers and magnets, the thought was pushed from his
mind.

He quickly grabbed the rest of the folders and started pinning the photos to the board, uncapping a
marker with his teeth - kind of hot, but anyway - before scribbling the names below each headshot.
Louis felt something softening in his chest when he noticed that Harry hadn’t even needed to look
at the profiles to remember the names.

Then he wrote ‘Liar’ beneath Ryan’s photo.

He looked to Louis over his shoulder, “Anything else?”

Louis licked at his lip ring as he stepped up to the board, he raised his hand to skim over the
photos. Closing his eyes, he pictured opening his mind, mentally dropping a barrier and allowing
himself to see .

“Coward.” He whispered over Mark Collins' photo. Harry wrote it down quickly as Louis moved
on to the next, “Greed.” over Derrick Saunders. They kept going, he could feel Harry’s bubbling
excitement as they went. His eyes glued to the side of Louis’ face, studying him as he traced his
hand over the faces.

Near the end they reviewed the board, heads tilted as they looked over the red scrawls.

Ryan Hendricks - Liar

Mark Collins - Coward

Derrick Saunders - Greed

Michael Lee - Hostile

Brent Sullivan - Lazy

Casey Lucas - Dependent

Aaron Blake - Weak

“Being weak or lazy…I wonder why the unsub took that so personally.” Harry mused, almost to
himself.

“Unsub?” Louis asked, the word feeling foreign on his tongue.

Harry sent him a grin, “Unknown subject.”

Louis made a metal note to remember that for his book and hummed. He looked back to the board
and crossed his arms over his chest, his senses still felt static, “There’s more to it,” He said,
nodding towards the two Harry had mentioned, “There’s a darkness here, something that goes
beyond the words or actions.”

Harry tapped the marker against his lips in thought, “Let’s add the nine virtues and see what’s
left.” He said at last.

They continued to work, stepping around each other to decide where certain virtues should be
placed. Now and then their shoulders would brush, or Harry would lay his hand gently on Louis’
lower back as he passed by. It sent frissons of golden heat through his system, making him feel
light. He bit back his smiles, though he could tell by the way his lips would press together and
twist slightly at the corner that he wasn’t successful, and judging by Harry’s equally soft eyes, he
was aware.

When they were done the board looked a little messier.

Ryan Hendricks - Liar / Truth

Mark Collins - Coward / Courage

Derrick Saunders - Greed / Discipline

Michael Lee - Hostile / Hospitable

Brent Sullivan - Lazy / Industrious

Casey Lucas - Dependent / Self-reliant

Aaron Blake - Weak / Courage

Harry had added a few more notes here and there, humming under his breath every few minutes.
When he was done he looked back at his notebook, “That leaves fidelity and loyalty.”

Louis twisted his hands around his sleeves, “So I’ve either been unfaithful or disloyal.”

Harry looked up at him, eyes tracking over his face, he shrugged, “We don’t know the significance
here. This is all based on speculation and the unsubs’ psychosis.”

Louis looked back at the faces, “Why would the last two look like me…but have their own
offences?”

Harry dragged a hand through his hair, displacing neat curls, “I suspect it’s to send a message, but
the unsub’s psychosis won’t let him kill without his code.”

Louis pursed his lips, “You all think he’s saving me for last?” He murmured.

Harry didn’t respond, his hand tightened around the marker and then released as he sighed.

“What happens when he completes the nine offences? Surely he won’t just stop, when…” He
cleared his throat, “when I was on the t-table, I - he…” Fuck, he squeezed his eyes shut and drew a
deep breath, “He enjoyed it. My fear, the blood - all of it.”

Harry had shifted slightly where he’d been leaning against the desk, as if…as if he’d wanted to lean
closer to Louis. He watched him carefully as Louis reached out to pet Clifford. The dog was calm
though, so Louis knew his anxiety wasn’t spiking.

“I suspect he’ll find reasons to motivate the killings, from what we know…it won’t stop with
nine.” Harry said into the quiet that followed Louis’ confession.

A knock sounded at the door a moment before Zayn walked in, he had his open laptop in hand and
a rolled up paper tucked under the other arm.

“Hey Louis, cute sweatshirt.” He said.

Louis grinned and pulled his jumper from his chest to display the embroidered sunflower on the
front, “Thanks, this one’s my favourite.”

“Yellow’s your colour.”

“What is it, Zayn?” Harry asked, clearing his throat when the two had started to smile at one
another.

Louis peeked over at Harry, he wasn’t sure if he was detecting annoyance or jealousy, or both.
What he did know was that he found it intriguing, startling some dusty butterflies in his gut out of
hibernation.

Had it been so long since he’d been attracted to someone properly?

“Forensics got back to us, they also did a search of the surrounding woods.” He rolled out the
paper, which appeared to be a grid-like map, on Harry’s desk. There were tiny red dots in odd
places, in the centre was a giant circle. There were some photos that Zayn hastily flipped upside
down so they weren’t on display, sending Louis an odd look that he couldn’t decipher.

“What am I looking at?” Harry asked, looking down at the map. Louis sidled up to his side and
Harry shifted so that his view wasn’t obstructed by his shoulder.

“They found clothing fibres that didn’t belong to the victim in the branches around here,” Zayn
pointed to a scattering of red dots closer to the circle, “And around here they found drag marks,
possible footprints. Circles’ obviously the crime scene.”

Harry tugged at his bottom lip with his index finger and thumb, a frown marring his features,
“Could we get a cast of the footprint? Identify the type of shoe?”

“Already called ahead, they’re working on it. There were two different types of fibres though, one
appeared to be burlap, the other some type of polyester - possibly from a shirt.”

“Burlap?”

“Possibly a sack over the body.” Zayn shrugged, “However, I wanted to discuss the body
placement with you, if we could…uh, put it up on the board?” He gestured at the photos.

Harry looked up at Zayn, then the photos in his hand which were faced down. Louis frowned at the
exchange before Harry shot a glance at him, “Hey Lou, do you maybe want to go see what Niall’s
up to?”

It clicked then, they didn’t want him to have to see the photos. Logically he knew that they were
looking out for him, but in the same breath it made him feel far too delicate.

Of course they’d view you as weak, you get an anxiety attack whenever someone raises their voice
at you. That voice in the back of Louis’ mind whispered.

He cleared his throat, “I can help, you know? I’m not, like, fragile...” He’d started off strong
though near the end his voice had shifted as Harry had turned to face him fully, studying him -
always fucking studying him. Like he was stuck under a microscope, weighed up and then found
wanting.

Harry ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip in thought, “You can help on one condition.”

Louis nodded quickly.

“You’ll tell me if it gets too much.”

Louis rolled his lips together, trying to refrain from rolling his eyes too, “I’ll do that.”

Zayn was looking between the two of them, something calculated in his gaze, the corner of his
mouth tugging into a smirk.

Harry nodded, “Alright, let’s hear it, Z.”

Zayn walked to the board, his back obscuring Louis’ view of the pictures. Louis took that moment
to steel himself, making sure he had no visible reaction when he’d finally see the crime scene
photos.

When Zayn stepped away again there were multiple photos under each victim's head shot, some
close ups, some from a distance, and all horrifyingly graphic. Louis sucked in a sharp breath,
sounds of distant memories filling his ears. He blinked quickly, trying to look past the vision. Now
would not be the time to relive a victim’s final moments.

“So at every single crime scene, the victim's back was on display, their arms spread and their faces
hidden.” He pointed out how each victim's head was hanging between their shoulders, faces
obscured by their own hair, or branches or nestled between leaves. “However, the last one, Blake,
his face was tilted to the side so that -”

Louis made a choked off noise in the back of his throat as he stepped towards the photo, his hand
reaching out. He felt a tug at the back of his jumper and looked back to find Harry’s eyes on him,
his fingers tangled in the material, holding him back. He dropped his hand quickly but continued to
hold Louis’ gaze.

Louis looked back at the carved ‘L’ that marred the skin on the victims face, he could feel himself
paling. The tips of his fingers trembled as he cleared his throat, “Sorry, Zayn.”

Zayn shook his head quickly, sending him an apologetic look.

A knock at the door interrupted the heavy silence that had fallen over them, and Niall hurried
inside, shutting it behind himself.

“Sorry ‘m late, just wanted to grab some coffee.” He set four starbucks coffee cups on Harry’s desk
and Louis felt himself soften. He wasn’t even a part of their team but Niall had grabbed one for
him too. The blonde passed around the coffee, Louis murmured a thank you and wrapped his hands
around the cup, letting it warm his finger tips. Harry shifted beside him, the weight of his shoulder
resting against Louis’ own.

“So Zayn’s caught you up on the forensic team’s findings?”

Harry nodded and gestured at the photos on the board they were all currently facing. Niall shot a
discreet look at Louis over the rim of his cup before clearing his throat and setting it down.

“We were just discussing the unsub’s pattern. The way the bodies were positioned.” Zayn said.

“Zayn and I were looking over the photos, comparing them with depictions of the blood-eagle the
vikings supposedly performed.” Harry nodded for Niall to continue but it was Zayn who picked up
the topic thread.

“Right, so we looked at the positioning of the arms. At first we thought the victims had just been
strung up in whatever way was feasible to keep them spread out and their backs on display -
however,” Zayn stepped closer to the whiteboard and gestured at how each photo of the victim was
different, based on the positioning of their arms. Some were perpendicular, others parallel, most in
random directions and all bound at their wrists. “If you look here, different lengths of rope are used
with almost every single victim to ensure the arm is positioned a certain way. What does it remind
you of?”

Harry squinted at the photos, Niall looked between the pictures and Harry, practically vibrating
with the need to deliver the punchline: “It’s just a theory but what if…they symbolised the hands of
a clock?”

Tick, tick, tick.

It’s time.

Louis made a noise in the back of his throat, his hand latching onto Harry’s forearm as he stared at
the photo’s, wide-eyed. A memory slammed into his mind then, barreling through his senses.

“No, no, please!”

“It’s time.”

His body felt weak, too weak to hold himself up. Most of his weight was held by the man, his hands
calloused, hard and cruel on his skin. Louis noted the dirt under his nails, specks of blood on his
nail beds.

“Tick, tick, tick.” The man muttered, “Tick, tick, tick, tick -”

“Louis?”

Louis blinked and the memory dissipated, Clifford nudged his head into his side, a whine rising in
his throat. He quickly dropped his hand on the dog's head and scratched behind his ears as he
looked up at Harry.

“S-sorry -”

“Is it too much?” Harry asked, moving in front of him to block Louis from Zayn and Niall’s
speculative glances.

“No, I’m fine, I promise.” He swallowed thickly, “I had a memory of - of the man.” He looked
over Harry’s shoulder to Zayn and Niall, “He had this obsession with, like, ticks?”

Niall frowned and Harry stepped aside again, though he remained closeby, “Like…body ticks?”

Louis shook his head quickly, “No he kept saying ‘it’s time’ and ‘tick, tick, tick’. At the time I
thought it was just to freak me out, you know?”

Niall and Zayn nodded sympathetically.

“Then I just thought he was deranged, which, well…” Louis shrugged.

“What would the time symbolise for each victim?”

Niall chewed on his lip as he looked at Zayn, “Well at first we thought it was time of death, but the
coroner didn’t corroborate that. So then we thought it might’ve had something to do with -”

“The time they’d broken the code or committed the offence?” Harry mused.
Zayn and Niall nodded.

“And hiding their faces?”

“Remorse. When killer’s cover the face or brutalise it beyond recognition it’s often an act of
remorse. Though given that the unsub’s ‘work’” He gestured at the flayed open back of one of the
victims, the spread ribs and lungs, “is proudly on display, leads us to believe he feels some type of
sexual gratification from it. It’s almost boastful. Coupled with the fact that it would take above-
average strength to pry the ribs apart like that…”

“Suppose narcissism feeds into the vigilante profile.” Harry nodded.

Louis’ stomach rolled, the lunch they’d had earlier now sitting like a ton of greasy sludge in his
gut.

“Harry, I looked over your report, about the community aspect?” Harry nodded at Niall, “I think
we should question Richards again, might even be a good idea to take Louis with you, he might
slip up and -”

“No.” Harry shook his head quickly, dismissing the idea entirely. Louis swallowed, he’d like to do
whatever he could to assist in the investigation, but the thought of being in the same room again as
that man made his skin crawl.

“So not with Louis then…We still think there’s a possibility he was in on it - working with the
unsub in some way.”

Louis cleared his throat, “He was definitely the one who grabbed me that day.”

He jumped slightly when he felt a hand settle on his lower back, though he calmed instantly when
Harry swiped his thumb over the sliver of skin that was exposed above the waistband of his jeans.

“Charles is flying in from Washington, got a call earlier today.” Zayn said with an eye roll.

Louis froze, his breath hitching in his throat. He felt Harry stiffen beside him, his hand falling
away from Louis’ back.

“Why’s that?” Harry asked, tone unreadable.

Niall shrugged, “Because the old bastard likes the spotlight? Who knows?”

Harry sent Niall a glare but didn’t disagree, which Louis found interesting.

“Let’s write down those times under the victims head shots, and look into anything from their pasts
that could match with the words written beside their names.” Harry said, nodding towards the
board. Niall took a photo of it on his phone as Zayn uncapped the marker and wrote down the
times.

Harry circled his desk and sank into his seat with a sigh, sipping at his coffee as his eyes travelled
over his paperwork. Louis shifted slightly, leaning on the desk as he watched them work around
him. He took a sip of his coffee, humming softly when he found it sweetened to perfection.

He wasn’t really sure how Special Agent Charles would feel about him being so involved with the
case, and he wasn’t looking forward to their inevitable reunion. He suspected it wouldn’t be pretty,
and given Harry’s loyalty to the man, he was already bracing himself for the fallout. Clifford
settled his shaggy head on Louis’ knee and he sighed as he scratched behind the dog’s ears. His
heart was lost somewhere in his throat.

His eyes went back to the photos. The last two specifically: Casey and Aaron. From the way they
were displayed he wasn’t able to make out their features but in the back of his head, he couldn’t
quite shake the voice that kept whispering to him, taunting him. Blaming him.

That should’ve been you.

 Harry
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

My heart and my mind have been with me always

But not long enough to keep them in line

I know that my mind has both good and bad days

But my heart wins every time

I feel a fire

Bottled Up Tight, Luke Sital-Singh

Louis had fallen asleep in his arms last night.

It was his own fault it happened. He’d been feeling on edge since the date, not to mention the
spectacular fuck-up that was Louis sneaking out of the house while he was in the shower. He
couldn’t even explain to himself the irrational weight that had dropped on his chest when he’d
called out for him and there’d been no response. He’d been so distracted he hadn’t even grabbed
his gun, which was instinct at this point. Then he’d gone and acted like a neanderthal by shoving
Louis into the door, as if he’d needed the physical contact to reassure himself he hadn’t messed up,
hadn’t failed somehow.

What the fuck was happening to him?

He’d held Louis for so long last night, up until the morning song of waking birds had reminded him
of where he was, who he was holding. He’d looked so soft though, with his hands curled against
his chest, the tips of his fingers grazing Harry’s own and his pink lips softly parted. Of course he’d
had to dress cosily the next day, a soft yellow jumper with a sunflower on it and his usual black
jeans.

That fucking sunflower had mocked Harry all day. Everything about Louis made Harry want to
drag him back into his lap, and he spent most of his time trapped in that office fighting every
impulse not to touch him. Above all that lay the guilt, because Louis was fragile, and Harry was a
fucking scoundrel.

He couldn’t wrap his mind around why the image of Louis in his soft jumpers made him want to
wrap a hand around himself and settle his frustrations once and for all. Then there was the way
Louis’ eyes had gone dark as he’d stared at Harry in the hallway, bare-chested and mad. He saw it,
he knew what it meant. Fuck.

The protective instinct he’d felt before he knew the man, when he’d only first laid eyes on him,
was now a living, breathing host in his chest. He worried about his own sanity at this point. Don’t
get him wrong, Louis was still very much a siren. He just didn’t seem to realise it, which was
worse. It made him so much more appealing to Harry, but it also softened him…saddened him.
Louis Tomlinson was stunning, it was just a fact, and one that he wished he knew.

These thoughts were going to be the death of him.

Much like Louis’ laugh, which was currently sounding out in the office, whispering along his skin
and brushing against the walls he’d built up in his mind.

“Yeah, I mean Liam will be there too. Think Harry mentioned you guys met him so you can join
me if you’d like?” Louis said to Niall, who was nodding enthusiastically.

And wait, what?

“Let’s do it tonight?” Zayn said quickly, looking up from his phone at the sound of Liam’s name.
Typical.

“Definitely, I -”

“What are we talking about?” Harry asked, frowning.

Louis rolled his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at Harry, though the gesture felt…fond. He
was perched on Harry’s desk with his back to him, “I was planning on meeting up with Liam
tonight, figured you’d be there anyway so I asked the guys to come.” He shrugged, and why did
every action, no matter how small, make Louis look coy. He was looking at Harry through his
eyelashes, his shoulder propped up slightly as if he were peeking over it. Harry shifted in his seat
and averted his gaze.

“ Sixth-sense ?” He snorted.

The playfulness in Louis’ demeanour shifted then, “You can stay home, Styles. I’ll take Zayn and
Niall to watch over me.”

Something flared up in Harry’s chest at that, and judging by the twinkle in Louis’ eyes, he knew.
“Didn’t say I wasn’t going.” he muttered eventually.

When Zayn snorted, he looked up to meet the profiler's eyes.

‘Like a fiddle’ Zayn mouthed at him behind Louis’ back.

“Flutes make prettier tunes.” Louis shrugged, sending Harry a wink. Zayn gaped at Louis and then
sputtered a laugh, Niall’s cackle joining the fray having caught the exchange.

“Don’t you two have work to do?” Harry snapped.

Zayn and Niall raised their eyebrows at each other, grunting chortles escaping the pair as they rose
from their seats, “We’ll work on finding a connection between the victims.” Zayn called out as he
shut the door behind them.

Silence settled in the office.

Louis stretched, raising his arms above his head and arching his back, releasing a small groan from
the back of his throat. Harry’s eyes trailed over him, given that Louis’ back was still to him, he had
a full view of how the stretch elongated Louis’ spine. The way his waist curved inwards and then
flared out around his hips. A delicate bit of skin bulging above the waistband of his jeans on either
side where his jumper had ridden up. Christ . Harry squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of anything
other that how Louis would look, perched just like he was now, but on Harry’s lap while they -

No.

He shifted in his seat, willing his cock to remain uninterested, willing the heat in his gut to settle.
He looked up quickly at the crime scene photos, focusing his mind on the case entirely. Thank
fuck, it was the perfect distraction.

“So, uh,” Louis started, twisting slightly to face Harry, “You’re going to meet with Richards?”

Harry licked his lips, “I’ll need to talk to Zayn about the best way to do so, but yeah. Maybe he’ll
cooperate and give us some information.”

Louis nodded, twisting his sleeves in his fists, “And you don’t want me there?” He was looking
down so Harry couldn’t read his eyes, could only see the way his long eyelashes swept softly over
his high cheekbones, dark shadows beneath his eyes making him look smaller.

“It’s not because I don’t value your…input,” He said, treading lightly over Louis’ gift - which he
was still battling with accepting. “I just don’t want to distract him from why we’re there.”

Louis hummed, nodding slowly.

“He hates me, Harry.” he murmured softly.

Harry swallowed, feeling his heart clench, “That’s all he’ll ever do regarding you.”

Louis looked up at that, his eyes sharp and clear, though a distant haze settled over them as if he
were daydreaming. “He wanted to kill me. That day in the courtroom. I could read it all over him, I
saw flashes of what he was thinking. How he imagined hurtling himself over the table and getting
his hands on me.” His voice was soft but the words sent a packing punch straight into Harry’s gut.

Harry clenched his fist in his lap, his pulse rabbiting, “We have a restraining order -”

Louis shook his head with a soft chuckle, “That won’t stop him, neither will the ankle monitor.
He’ll find me as long as he's not behind bars.”

“He might’ve changed in five years.” Harry shrugged, though he wasn’t sure he believed his own
words.

Louis met his eyes then, his tone steady as he spoke, “Do you know what happens to a person so
filled with hatred and rage, when they’re trapped - isolated, with that darkness inside of them?”
Harry remained quiet, momentarily enthralled by Louis' lilting voice, “They plot, and they plan and
that fantasise . Do you know what it’s like to have a sixth-sense that revolves around other people’s
emotions and motives? It means that when someone has such a burning hatred for you, you feel it,
no matter the distance. Like the sun’s heat on your skin, no matter the clouds, the wind, it’s there -
it’s present.”

“You can sense him now?” Harry murmured.

Louis shivered, “It’s like the hairs on the back of my neck are constantly on end, like having eyes
on you when you’re walking down a crowded street.”

Harry looked down at Clifford who was watching Louis steadily. He wondered then what it would
be like to live life that way, constantly on guard from a man that wasn’t able to reach you - yet you
could feel their presence, like a shadow - or a ghost.

“How do you cope?”

Louis’ lips tugged up into a sad smile as he looked down at Clifford, “I make every day count.”

Harry swallowed, his hands itching to hold, to comfort. The bizarre, intrusive impulse to go to
Richards now and remove him as a threat permanently bombarded his senses.

“Nothing will happen to you while I’m around.”

“While you’re around,” Louis murmured under his breath, his eyes distant once more as he stared
out the window at the city.

Harry got the foreboding feeling that Louis had already seen his future, and that he was just biding
his time. I make every day count. The words felt heavier now, more daunting. Something inside
Harry rebelled at the thought that certain events were already set in motion and that he had no
control in how they would play out. He vowed to himself to stay by Louis’ side then, at this point,
it just wasn’t a question anymore.

Louis was leaning over the bar, gesticulating wildly as he spoke with Liam, Clifford leaning against
his legs happily. The bartender was grinning, his eyes soft as he regarded Louis, he nodded,
waiting and when Louis delivered whatever punchline Liam tossed his head back as he laughed.
Harry watched as Louis beamed, pleased at the reaction he’d caused.

He picked at the label on his beer as he looked at the man at the end of the bar, who’d been
watching Louis for most of the night, his eyes tracking over his body.

Harry sucked at his teeth, his eyes laser sharp, practically daring the man to even try to rise from
his seat.

“Surprised he can’t feel the sting of those daggers you’re shooting.” Zayn said at his side.

Niall chuckled, “Harry clocked him two hours ago, I’ve been waiting for the guy to try to make a
move.”

The three of them were sitting at a table across from the bar, Louis’ vacated seat growing cold
beside Harry. Louis had offered to grab their next round and was taking his sweet time getting
back.

“Well maybe if your eye-candy wasn’t taking so long on the taps I wouldn’t have to keep an eye
out.” Harry muttered at Zayn.

“Oh, so he’s no longer Louis’ boyfriend?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know, Z. I’m straight but if a man looked at me the way Liam looks at Louis I’d be
bending over that bar like -”

“Enough.” Harry snapped, jostling his friend with his shoulder, which resulted in the blonde
cackling in delight.

“You’re too easy to provoke, Haz. That boy’s got you in a chokehold.”
“Think they ever hooked up?” Zayn asked. Harry was about to bark at his friend when he caught
the look on his face as he studied the pair at the bar.

Harry cleared his throat, softening his approach, “Nah, Louis was really offended about the
boyfriend-shit. Said I was belittling their friendship, so I think that’s all it is.”

As if to poke holes in Harry’s statement, Louis leaned over the bar, the tips of his toes dangling
above the floor as he smacked a kiss to Liam’s cheek. The bartender blushed as he rolled his eyes
and pushed the three beers and a cocktail towards Louis.

Zayn hummed, shifting slightly in his seat.

“Louis’ just a really affectionate guy.” Niall said confidently.

Harry cocked his head to the side, studying him, “Oh yeah?”

Sensing trouble on the horizon, Niall perked up, he wasn’t above stirring the pot, “Definitely, he’d
sit in my lap if I offered.”

Harry snorted and lifted his bottle to take a swig, “You’re not half as funny as you think you are.”

Niall frowned, his eyes flicking about as if trying to do the maths in his head. Zayn and Harry
laughed easily.

“Uh, Harry…”

Harry looked up at Zayn’s tone of voice but the profiler wasn’t looking at him, his eyes were
focused on a specific point near the bar. Harry whipped his head around, his fingers clenching
around his bottle at what he saw. The man had decided to shoot his shot and was standing in front
of Louis, blocking him from view. From what Harry could see, Louis had left the drinks on the bar
at his back and was now twisting Clifford’s leash between his fingers, his eyes narrowed as he
listened to the man speak.

When Louis cocked his hip and sent the man a disbelieving look, Harry rose from his chair.

“Haz.” Niall’s warning tone called, but he was already pushing past patrons. His eyes zeroed in on
the back of the man’s head. Louis spotted him over the man’s shoulder, his eyes widening
momentarily before swinging back to the man.

Harry stepped up beside Louis and slipped an arm around his waist, tucking his fingers into his belt
loops, Clifford sitting between them.

“Hey babe,” He said to Louis, his eyes on the man. He had close-cropped hair that was likely
trying to draw attention from the receding hairline, an eyebrow piercing and narrow-set brown
eyes, his lips verging on too thin. “All good?”

Louis looked up at him, then at the man before he slowly leaned into Harry’s side, “Yeah, uh,
Calvin here was just telling me about his fireplace at home - apparently it’s cosy .”

Harry hummed and Calvin grinned sheepishly, “Shit, sorry man, didn’t know you had like dibs or
whatever.”

“What?” Louis asked in disbelief.

“Pardon?” Harry said through gritted teeth.

Calvin shrugged, “Yeah just figured,” He ran his eyes over Louis, “You were standing by yourself
the whole time, looked like you were alone.”

“Well, ‘m not, thanks anyway though.”

Calvin nodded, he shot a glance over at Harry before looking back at Louis, “Think I could change
your mind? My place is right around the corner.”

Harry shifted, pushing his jacket over his hip and flashing his gun, “Think he’s good.”

Calvin’s eyes zeroed in on the weapon, he raised his hands quickly in a placating gesture, “Shit,
yeah, ‘course.” The next moment he was hightailing it to the opposite side of the bar.

When Harry looked to Louis he was met with an icy glare, “What?” He asked.

“Your gun? Seriously? ”

Harry shrugged, removing his arm from Louis’ waist, “Left my badge and wallet at the table.” He
turned to grab their beers, choosing to ignore the way Louis had hesitated before stepping away
from his side.

Louis grumbled something under his breath as they walked back to their table. Zayn was staring at
Harry, his eyebrows raised and Niall was red in the face, his lips pressed together as if trying not to
laugh.

“What did that bloke want?” Zayn asked, his face the picture of innocence.

Louis settled into his seat and twirled the straw for his cocktail between his index finger and thumb
as he shrugged, “My ass?”

Harry choked on his sip, then glared at his beer as if it had purposefully offended him.

Niall cackled, “Sorry Agent Cockblock interrupted, we tried to stop him.”

Louis laughed when Harry pulled a face, a light flush colouring his golden skin a rosy pink, “Think
it was for the best, he was a bit…crass.”

“Will Liam be joining us?” Zayn blurted, rather unsmoothly.

Harry snorted into his drink as Louis shot Zayn a knowing smirk, he hummed, drawing out the
silence as he sipped at his cocktail. Zayn twisted the paper coaster between his fingers, his eyes
darting over the room as if he weren’t too pressed to wait for an answer.

“Said he’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“Cool,” Zayn mumbled.

Louis giggled into his drink, ducking his head slightly, Harry felt his lips tug up into a smile as he
watched him. The smile slipped from his face when Louis caught him looking; his eyes sparkled
with mischief for a second, and before he could brace himself, Louis’ tongue was darting out and
curling around the straw before sucking it into his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks, his eyes still
fixed on Harry’s own. His pursed lips slowly pulled off of the straw, leaving just a few drops of
the cocktail on the bed of his plush bottom lip.

Harry was frozen, his lips parted as he watched. Slowly his eyebrows drew together in disbelief,
because what the actual fuck? To complete that devastating display of teasing, Louis licked his lips
and sent him a wink before turning to Niall. Harry couldn’t even pretend to try and partake in the
current topic of conversation, still staring at Louis’ side profile. His mind had gone completely
blank because, oh fuck, all of his blood had migrated south and he was now sporting a rather
obvious semi.

“You’ll pay for that,” He murmured softly to him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Louis shiver,
he bit the inside of his cheek to try to control his own reaction.

“Threats get you everywhere .” Louis murmured back as Zayn and Niall carried the conversation
between themselves.

Harry grit his teeth. Jesus. Christ.

“Recent events refute that claim.” At Louis' questioning look, Harry leaned closer, his voice still
low. “You didn’t like it when I flashed my gun earlier.”

Louis hummed, and Harry sipped at his beer to hide his smirk, “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want you
to wear it while you’re balls deep...” Harry choked, “...in a case.”

“You like a man that packs heat?”

Louis’ eyes ran over him at that, settling on his crotch, “Who doesn’t like a little heat?” His blue
eyes flashed as they met Harry’s once more.

So they were flirting, that was what this was. Louis was flirting with him and he was not only
encouraging it but he was flirting back. He could feel his mind battling with his body on how to
respond, on one hand he knew this was irresponsible and highly unprofessional. On the other hand,
Louis looked like he was one choice-word away from being dragged into the loo and ravished. He
needed to keep a clear mind though, he still wasn’t completely sure he could trust himself, but for
the sake of the case and Louis’ safety it was best not to get…distracted.

Harry cleared his throat, shifting slightly away from Louis, “Did you sneak shots at the bar or
something?” He asked, huffing a laugh that sounded a little strangled.

Louis froze, still half leaning towards Harry, his eyes widened momentarily before he drew away.
Harry averted his gaze when Louis’ face bloomed a crimson red, his lip ring slipping between his
teeth.

“Uh, y-yeah.” Louis muttered, fiddling with his straw. Clifford shifted at his feet and Louis ducked
to scratch his head, as if to avoid Harry’s eye. Fuck, he hadn’t meant to embarrass the kid.

When he looked up, Zayn was shooting him a confused look, still listening as Niall prattled on
about some soccer club that’s funding was getting cut. He was a passionate lad, even though no
one knew what the fuck he was talking about half the time.

“Hey,” Liam said as he joined the group, his face flushed from rushing around behind the bar, his
eyes a little tired.

“Hey, Li!” Louis said excitedly, slipping his arm through Liam’s and pulling him into the chair
between himself and Zayn. Harry braced his elbows on the table, ignoring the odd twist in his gut
at seeing the way Louis curled himself around the bartender.

Liam smiled down at Louis before looking at the group, “Sorry I’m late, what are we talking
about?”
“Derby -”

“I was actually trying to find out if there were any new art-exhibitions in the area, Louis said you
might know?” Zayn asked, cutting Niall off.

Liam’s eyes lit up and Louis hid his smile against his shoulder, “Oh yeah? There’s an Immersive
Van Gogh exhibition happening over at the Oregon Convention centre next week, we should go.”
His eyes trailed politely over the group before settling back on Zayn.

A pregnant pause followed before Louis chirped, “Damn, wish I could but I’ve got to work on my
book.”

“I go where he goes, so.” Harry shrugged easily, nodding to Louis.

“That sounds sick, I’d l-Ah!” Harry kicked Niall sharply under the table, barely containing his
laugh as the blonde shifted tactics instantly, “love to but…yeah ‘m busy too, sorry.”

Liam nodded, though he hadn’t looked like he’d bought Niall’s slip-up. He grinned at Zayn,
“Guess it’ll just be us.”

Zayn’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, “Yeah, cool, sounds like fun.”

Liam pulled his phone from his pocket, “Here, give me your number so we can plan it out.”

Niall watched them, his lips stretching into a bright smile, when Harry nudged him he dialled his
excitement down to a more palatable level.

“So, Lou, tell me more about being a clairvoyant. I read your book - which was incredible, but like,
can you read anyone ?”

Louis looked away from Liam at Niall’s question, his fingers stilling around his drink as he
regarded the blonde, “Yeah, guess I can.” Louis shrugged easily.

Niall brightened, “So if I picked someone in the bar, you’d be able to tell me something personal
about them?”

“He’s not a party trick.” Harry muttered.

Louis cleared his throat, he still wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes, “I could.”

“What about…her?” Niall asked, his eyes scanning the bar before settling on a girl near the back.
She had shoulder length brown hair, her denim clad legs crossed under the table and her eyes
focused on the laptop in front of her. The screen’s light reflected off of her glasses and a rose gold
ring in her nose as she typed furiously and bit at her lip. A forgotten glass of wine collecting
condensation beside her.

Louis looked her over for a minute, his head cocked slightly to the side and then he smiled softly,
“Fan-fiction writer, looks like she could be unapproachable - which she is when she’s in her
element, but she’s actually a social-butterfly. She has a good relationship with her parents, even
though they’re divorced. Her sister is a recovering addict, which she finds inspiring. She’s very
careful with those she keeps close to her, and fiercely protective of her loved ones.”

Niall gaped, “Okay wait, how do you know she writes fan-fiction?”

Louis laughed, “Caught a flash of the scene she’s building in her head - it’s about two boy band
members that people think are secretly dating.”

“There’s no way you could’ve gotten all that information at a glance, surely?” Zayn piped up.

Liam sat back in his seat, looking smug as he settled his hand on the back of Louis’ chair.

Louis titled his head to either side, “Well…it’s kind of like profiling, right?” He looked back over
at the girl before meeting Zayn’s eyes, “At a glance, you could tell me she’s from a middle class
family because her clothes are neat and well-cared for, but not necessarily new. No brand-names
besides her sneakers, which means she takes care of her appearance but isn’t fully concerned about
superficial or materialistic things. Though she wears expensive jewellery, they’re charm bracelets
which means she’s sentimental. Certain charms hold different meanings - like that one that has ‘
best friends ’ engraved into a silver heart.”

Everyone remained quiet, watching Louis with open interest, so he continued, “I could dive into
how she prefers tea over coffee simply because of the teapot charm. I could also tell you that even
though she’s careful with her heart, she’s impulsive with her body - given the scatterings of small
meaningless tattoos. Though the majority hold meaning, there are a few that tell me she’s fun and
kind of quirky. As for the rest,” he shrugged, “she carries loss in her eyes, but not from death.
She’s guarded because she lost someone close, and though they’re back in her life she’s still
hesitant around that person - the recovering sister.”

“Why drug addiction?” Harry asked curiously, his tone soft.

Louis’ smile turned sad, “Only another person who’s lost someone in a similar way would likely be
able to recognise it. That type of wariness…it’s about trusting a person, not because of their
actions, but because of their impulses - what they could be drawn to. She looks like she’s
completely consumed by her work, but she’s well-aware of her surroundings.”

Harry snuck a glance at the girl, just as she looked up from her screen, her eyes flicked to the wall
in front of her though he could tell she was more focused on her peripherals, making sure no one
was approaching before continuing her work once more.

“You’d make a great profiler,” Zayn said, impressed.

Louis grinned, “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to writing books.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder as he watched Louis while he spoke to his friends. A
part of him still didn’t want to buy into the clairvoyant jargon, but a larger part was endlessly
fascinated by the way Louis had read the girl. Regardless of his gift or not, he’d been able to
profile her without any training, it went beyond just catching a glimpse of her mind. He’d made
them all sympathise with a stranger. It was a gift. Harry was starting to believe it wasn’t necessarily
a bad one either.

Harry had stayed over at Louis’ again that night. Though there were no cries calling to him in the
dark, and no further whines from Clifford, he still slept fitfully as if he’d been waiting for them.
Waiting for Louis to need his comfort. It was a ridiculous thought, and one he wished didn’t matter
to him. Louis had spent the rest of his time at the bar interrogating his friends about past cases, his
eyes bright with excitement and his palms laid flat on the table as he leaned slightly forward, as if
he hadn’t wanted to miss a second of it. It had made Harry’s heart clench in his chest, how happy
Louis looked to be surrounded by his friends. For a brief moment Harry had considered how well
the five of them had gelled.
He’d even exchanged a knowing smile with Liam when Louis had asked for definitions on certain
terms. It had taken an hour before Louis could comfortably meet his eyes again, and for some
reason it had felt like a victory. Like an accomplishment on his part that he’d delivered a snide
remark to one of Niall’s most embarrassing cases to date. A simple ‘Oh no, Niall’ had had the
group rolling with laughter, Louis’ the brightest of all as he’d met Harry’s eyes, his hand glancing
briefly against Harry’s forearm. He’d noticed that Louis enjoyed physical touch, that it was his
way of showing affection.

He’d spent the rest of the night trying to earn small touches, partaking in conversation where he’d
normally remain quiet - adding his own anecdotes which the group fully enjoyed and encouraged.
At one point Louis had poked at his dimple, his own face happy and his eyes soft. Harry had
allowed himself to enjoy it for the time-being, hadn’t tried to pull away or slam his walls into
place. He was rather hesitant to admit it had been one of the best nights of his life, barring
Christmas with his family. Though family events grew tiresome after a while, he tended to show
up stag while his sister and cousins all had someone. For a brief second he’d looked at Louis while
he’d been regaling them with a story of his youth and had pictured him sitting across from his
mother and sister. He’d thought about how Anne and Gemma would beam back, their eyes equally
soft as they handed him a filled plate and Anne encouraged him to have more dinner rolls.

He’d shoved the thought aside, though the brief flood of warmth that had encased his chest had
taken longer to ease away. Objectively, he could admit that Louis and Gemma would be thick as
thieves by the end of dinner, and that Anne would be cornering Harry in the kitchen while she
prepared dessert to tell him how lovely she thought he was.

As he lay in the guest room’s bed that night, he wondered for the first time what Louis did during
the holidays. If he spent Christmas with Liam. The thought that Louis and Clifford spent Christmas
alone, sat at the large oak dinner table with a single candle to illuminate the softness of Louis’
features had his stomach clenching painfully. A feral ache clawing at his chest. He’d only had
Liam for so long, only one present to open on Christmas. Only one phone call on his birthday on
Christmas Eve. The term ‘my heart bleeds for you’ had never quite felt this accurate.

It made him want to crawl into Louis’ bed and wrap himself around him, kiss at the soft spot
behind his ear and murmur words of comfort.

He was no longer sure how to remain objective in this case. His attention was divided. He wanted
to find the murderer, but it no longer felt like a civic duty, it felt personal. Which often bred
mistakes, and that truth terrified him. He wondered how Charles would respond to this
development. Perhaps having him involved would get Harry back on track again, clear his mind.
He respected his mentor more than anything, but the thought of Charles standing over Louis’ frail
body in a hospital bed, refusing any easement to his pain for his own benefit had something dark
and ugly brewing in his chest.

It left his mind reeling for most of the night and so he woke with dark smudges painted beneath his
eyelids, his skin slightly sallow and his mood sour. Of course Louis had looked like sunshine as
he’d prepared for their run. Bouncing around excitedly, trying to engage in conversation with
Harry. After a while his voice petered out and they fell into silence.

Harry could feel him sneaking curious glances, small flashes of hurt and uncertainty in his eyes.
Though he couldn’t bring himself to reassure Louis in any way, he could only pacify him with
small touches. Settling his hand on his lower back, hooking his finger in his jumper when taking a
turn in their run or simply letting their shoulders brush. It seemed to ease him slightly. One thing
he had noticed was that Clifford had started running around them, no longer glued to Louis’ side
specifically, and Harry could only read that as acceptance. The dog had even let Harry feed him
that morning when they’d returned. Louis had been busy brewing their tea when he’d turned and
frozen in place, his eyes wide and lips parted as Harry had taken Clifford’s food from the cupboard
and filled his bowl before patting his shaggy head.

He’d met Louis’ eyes from his crouched position beside the dog, and it was like the tectonic plates
in the earth had shifted, as if there had been some cosmic alliance in the way Louis’ eyes had
softened, his lips forming an ‘o’ shape and his hands had fallen to his sides. That same expression,
the one from the day they’d met had overcome him then, he’d looked pliant. Though all Harry
could see was soft, soft, soft.

The look hadn’t faded from Louis’ eyes, not even once they’d reached the field office. It was new
to Harry, it terrified him too but in some small way, it also exhilarated him.

“But surely Booth can take me? I promised Cassie I’d swing by today.” Louis said, his tone
annoyed as he paced in front of Harry’s desk. Clifford had watched him pace before he grew tired
of his owner's antics and had fallen asleep. Harry empathised, he really did.

“I told you, I’m not letting you out of my sight -”

“You’re not going to be here though! How does that make any sense?” Louis interrupted, spinning
on his heel and coming to a halt, his hands perched on his hips as his blazing blue eyes bore into
Harry’s own.

Harry sighed, “Lou, all I’m asking is for a couple hours. Just sit in Zayn’s office and work on your
book, don’t leave the building - I’m not really asking for much.”

Louis huffed and rolled his eyes as he sank into the chair, “I can’t put my life on hold for this case,
you might not care -”

“I’m doing this because I care.” Harry snapped, his patience wearing thin, “I need to know you’re
somewhere safe, with someone I trust wholeheartedly, otherwise I won't be able to concentrate on
this meeting with Richards.”

Louis’ entire demeanour softened, the heat leaving him as his eyes travelled over Harry’s face,
“But -”

“Please.” Harry murmured at last.

Louis bit at his bottom lip, the ring glinting in the light, slowly he nodded. “Fine, I’ll stay with
Zayn.”

The tension Harry hadn’t even realised had been locking his body in place slowly seeped out of
him, his shoulders sinking at his sides, “Thanks,” He muttered. Not wanting to lend more weight
than absolutely necessary to whatever had just shifted, once again , between them.

“Will you take me to the shelter tomorrow?” Louis asked softly, imploringly.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

Louis grinned, “Is that right?”

Harry sent him a smirk as he stretched, his back popping, he groaned slightly and tilted his head
back. When he faced Louis again and opened his mouth to speak, the words escaped him. Louis’
eyes had darkened and he was biting his lip, his hands spread out on his thighs. As if realising that
Harry had noticed his reaction he cleared his throat and averted his eyes, frowning out at the
window. Harry felt that familiar lick of heat in his gut, the need that he’d been shoving to the back
of his mind returning with a vengeance.

He hadn’t allowed himself to have a decent wank since meeting Louis. Every time he’d caught
himself mid-way through, picturing blue eyes and smirking lips, a glint of cold silver winking in
the light. His lack of any kind of gratification now seemed to be roaring at him. Harry pictured how
Louis had hollowed his cheeks around the straw last night, and wondered how his lips would look
wrapped around another part of his body. If he’d be able to feel the cool press of metal against his -

Fuck, fuck, fucking, fuck.

Harry cleared his throat, “If you need anything just get Zayn to give you a hand, yeah?”

Louis smirked to himself, and that fucking green eyed monster reared it’s hideous head. He really
needed to get the fuck out of this office and away from this siren.

Harry stood quickly, grabbing his files and shoving them into his briefcase.

“Harry…” Harry looked up at the timid sound of Louis’ voice, he seemed to hesitate as the silence
settled between them and Harry waited expectantly. At last he opened his mouth, “Richards,
he’s…th-they have him in, like, handcuffs? You’re not, like? You’ll have your gun, right?”

Harry felt something in his chest crack open, he swallowed hard and slowly set his briefcase aside
as he circled the desk. Slowly he crouched in front of Louis’ chair, deciding to go with the facts,
knowing that they’d settle Louis more than platitudes, “The house has a cell in the entryway for
these kinds of meetings. He’ll be handcuffed to the table, there’ll be armed guards outside the door
and I’ll be armed too. There are cameras at each corner of the room, so if he tries anything we’ll
have an excuse to put him back behind bars.”

“I-if he tries -”

“I won’t hesitate. He has no access to weapons of any kind though, and is subjected to a full body
search before any meeting.” Harry held Louis’ gaze, hoping that Louis could draw comfort from
the information. Slowly Louis reached out and took his hand, squeezing it firmly in his own.

“But you won’t hesitate.”

Louis’ eyes were bright, the blues swirling with a range of greys that Harry was certain hadn’t even
been charted on the colour spectrum.

“I’ll text you after, though I suspect you’ll know.” Harry offered a smile.

Louis’ own soft smile was answer enough though he still nodded, “I will, though a text wouldn’t
hurt.”

Harry gave his own squeeze before he got back to his feet and withdrew from Louis’ space. It felt
like a loss when Louis’ fingers slipped from his own.

There was no fanfare when it came to meeting with Jeremiah Richards. Harry exchanged nods with
the guards as he walked onto the property. It looked like any other suburban home, except that the
houses surrounding them were still in their early phases of development. There were no nearby
residents for miles. The house where Richards was kept was rather quaint, it’s white paint and blue
door almost sinister in it’s irreproachability. The neighbourhood itself looked like one that happy,
young families would soon inhabit, one where the children would grow up together and ride their
bikes in the cul de sac.

It was a shame that under the surface something darker swirled. That this neighbourhood would
now house a murderer, or at the very least, a murderer’s accomplice.

Harry was led into the room, it’s plain white walls burning into his retinas as he settled at the
solitary metal table in the centre. He popped open his briefcase and pulled out his files, though
Zayn had been very specific about how he should approach Richards.

Richards was the victim of a horrible and unjust system. He’d suffered greatly and Harry was the
sympathetic ear, the one that would promise to try right all the wrongs and misdeeds.

He looked up when the door clanked open and a large man was led in. Richards was burly chested,
a long beard hung from his face and just barely grazed the tattoo on his collarbones. He swung his
meaty, hairy arms onto the table and waited for the guard to cuff his wrists to the link in the table
that awaited him. Something about him appeared jolly, as if he’d be the type to cosplay as Santa
Claus at malls for charity. Yikes .

“Good day Jeremiah, my name is Special Agent Harry Styles.” Harry started, sending the man a
calm smile as he laced his hands on the table between them.

“Styles…that’s a good name. Sounds expensive.” Richards laughed, “You can call me Jerry
though, please.” His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, though not nearly as beautifully as Louis’,
they seemed more like a spider's web waiting to ensnare anyone who fell into their trap - and to
think he’d compared Louis to a spider. The thought seemed laughable now in the face of this man.

“Jerry” Harry allowed, “It’s good to finally meet you.”

Richards tapped his nails against the metal table, the sound echoing off the walls as he watched
Harry, “You’re quite young for the FBI aren’t you? Foreign as well…why’d you leave home.”

Harry didn’t miss the odd glint in his eyes at the question, “So I could provide for my family, it’s
my duty as the only man in the house. I know that may seem old-fashioned,” he shrugged, to really
fucking sell it, “but I just feel my mum and sister need to see to the more day to day aspects of
life.”

Richards chuckled, “Old-fashioned,” he said, like the words were unfortunate, “if only more men
had that type of perspective.”

Harry hummed, nodding, “I must admit, when I heard about your case I was intrigued. It was really
brave of you to remain true to what you believed, you know? A lot of people would’ve buckled
under the pressure, taken a plea deal.”

Richards puffed his chest slightly, “I knew one day the truth would out. I was right.”

Harry dragged his file closer, settling it between them and tapping it lightly, “Speaking of which, I
wanted to know if we could discuss the warehouse. It was the only thing they really had on you,
and I figured if we could poke holes in the evidence. Maybe even point the finger at anyone else
that could’ve had access to it?”

Richards huffed, his chuckle turning darker, he leaned across the table and lowered his voice
conspiratorially, “Wasn’t the only thing they supposedly had against me. Brought in some kid, a
clairvoyant ,” He spat, “you believe that shit? Wouldn’t be against ya poking holes in him
instead.”

Harry fought not to react, ignoring the rush of rage filling his chest, he shifted slightly and
purposefully cast his eyes to the camera above them before he chuckled too, “They can hear us,
you’ll get me in trouble, Jerry.”

Richards winked as he withdrew and raised his hands, as high as he was able to, “You heard
nothin’.”

“In all seriousness though, can you think of anyone that might’ve had access to your warehouse?”

Richards leaned over slightly and scratched at his jaw, “I had a few break-ins through the years,
kids would come in and break shit or toke-up or what-have-you.”

“Until you installed the alarm and keypad, of course.” Harry said carefully.

Richards’ eyes settled on him, “Was a simple code, wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it
out.”

Harry hummed agreeably, “Did anyone besides you know that code? Even if you’d mentioned it
briefly in conversation.”

Richards sucked at his teeth, his eyes still tracking over Harry’s face, “There was this one
gentleman, I’d considered hiring him to clear the place out. He never showed though, kind of just
slipped my mind during the trial.”

Harry flipped open the file and placed photos of the warehouse in front of Richards, “What were
these rooms used for before you cleared it out?” He asked, his fingers resting on the photo of the
small cells. Cement walls and giant metal doors lining the walls on either side with a passage in the
centre. It looked like a kennel for dogs. He tried his best not to picture Louis in one of those rooms
for days on end, trapped in the darkness.

Richards’ eyes flicked down to the photos before he met Harry’s own once more, “Bought it like
that, I’ll be honest, I figured the place had been used for dog fights.”

“It wasn’t dogs’ blood on the walls though, they’d apparently found evidence that the warehouse
had been used by the Angel Killer for a while.”

Something in the man’s eyes shifted, suspicion clouding them, and fuck Harry had lost him. He
hurried to add, “What did you store in the warehouse that you needed that man to remove? Can you
remember what he looked like?”

“Spare parts, some scaffolding, general shit.”

Harry waited but it didn’t seem like Richards was feeling all that compliant any longer.

“What was this room used for before?” He had to fight the bile that rised in his throat as he set the
photo down before the man. In it a tipped over surgeon's table was at its centre, draped in white
and splashed with far too much blood. The floors were covered in tarps, as well as the walls and a
single tray table of surgical instruments lay discarded to the side, surgical blades and other larger
tools laying across the floor, one specifically covered in blood. All of it Louis’ blood.

Richards wasn’t looking at the photo though, his eyes were fixed on Harry, studying him. He
slowly rolled his lips together and calmly laced his hands above the table as he leaned back in his
chair, the metal scraping slightly on the tiles beneath.

“Are you squeamish Agent Styles?”

Harry furrowed his brow, “I’m not.”

The man hummed, something darker settling in his irises, and for the first time Harry felt like he’d
made a grave mistake, “I can’t imagine that kind of fear, you know?” He slowly picked up the
photo of the kennel-cells and held it in front of Harry though he didn’t look at it, he merely held
Harry’s stare, “To be subjected to a small, cold room, your body broken from a beating and then
left to rot for days.” Harry settled his own hands beneath the table and clenched his fists, Richards
dropped the photo and then picked up the one with the surgeon's table, “Only to then be dragged
from that room, can you picture it? You’re begging and pleading and crying but there’s no one
there to hear you.” He lowered his voice, “You might as well be whispering, screaming into the
void.” The hair at the back of his neck raised as the man before him whispered the words.

Harry looked down at the photo as Richards spoke again, his eyes glued to the spray of blood on
the tarp beyond the surgeon's table.

“Then you’re strapped down, you can’t see a thing - your senses are heightened because, fuck, now
the adrenalins kicked in, right?” His eyes widened theatrically, “It’s that fight or flight that’s
making you want to act out, but you can't, you're just stuck in place, forced to wait it out. The
suspense alone would likely kill ya if you’re faint of heart.” He shook his head and tsk ed, “If
you’re a fighter though, you might be awake for every moment. You’d feel the cold metal press of
the blade, you know they give you anaesthesia for that shit in the hospitals? Cutting someone open
like that’s gotta sting like a bitch.”

Harry’s nostrils flared, the sound of his own rapid heart beat pounding in his ears.

“Gotta be awfully tough to sustain that, much less survive afterwards. That stays with you, ya
know? Not to mention living the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, wondering if that
blade will come down on you again.” He shrugged, dropping the photo casually, “Though me? I’m
smart, I’d keep my head down, go about my business and count my blessings. Life’s too precious,
we’ve all got that giant ticker hanging over our heads.” Richards’ ice-blue eyes were sharp as they
flicked up to Harry’s own once more, his face like stone.

Harry felt that same ice roll in his gut, his veins halting the flow of his blood, the threat was made
so blatantly it was almost unbelievable.

“You seem well versed in the Angel Killer’s methods.” He hummed, dropping the act as he leaned
back in his seat, his shoulders broadening.

“Maybe I’m clairvoyant.” Richards said, raising his eyebrows. He laughed so suddenly that Harry
nearly flinched and opened his palms towards him, “Better not tease, hear that gets your rocks
off.”

Harry’s breath stuttered in his chest, “What?”

Richards hummed, a toothy sneer twisting his lips, “This house is rather empty, not much to do
around here but sit by the window. Enjoy the stars at night, though what I find more entertaining?
How the agents love to gossip. They certainly don't like you much.”

Jesus fucking christ. He’d been set up from the beginning. When he remained quiet, Richards’
sneer twisted into a look of disgust, his nostrils flaring.
 “Heard you been fucking that Tomlinson bitch.”

“Shut your mouth.” Harry murmured.

Richards shrugged, “Was a pretty little thing, I’ll admit. What was his name again? Something
French, rolls right off the tongue.” He grazed the tip of his tongue against his bottom lip, the act
itself made his skin crawl.

Harry bristled, his clenched fists trembling in his lap.

“Ah!” Richards’ eyes lit up in recognition, “Lovely Louis . I thought about him a lot while I was
away, how his voice broke in the courtroom. The way his body moved when he -”

“That’s enough.” Harry growled, grabbing the photos and shoving them back into the file before
placing it all in his briefcase and clipping it shut.

“Leaving so soon? Such a pity…do you think,” Harry regretted it as soon as he met Richards’ eyes
once more, “Do you think you could bring Lovely Louis with you on your next visit? I’d love to
see how he turned out, he was so…supple back then. Almost pliant. ”

Before his mind could process what had happened, his body was already at the other side of the
table, and his fist was connecting with Richards’ face. A guard burst into the room and pulled
Harry away, pushing him against the wall, though with hardly any force.

Richards chuckled behind him, blood dripping from his nose and into his mouth, staining his teeth
red as he smiled, “Now who will pay for that? Should’ve thought it through Special Agent Harry
Styles !” He called as Harry was pulled from the room, the door clanging shut between them.

Chapter End Notes

Hope everyone's doing well :) x

 Louis
Chapter Notes

TW: Depictions of Violence/ Death

Stay safe loves! x

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Listen, listen

I would take a whisper

If that's all you had to give

But it isn't, is it?

You could come and save me

And try to chase the crazy right out of my head

Echo, Jason walker

It wasn’t that he’d decided to ignore Harry’s request to stay in Zayn’s office, it was just that the
profiler had the most annoying habits. He was a wonderful person, don’t get Louis wrong, but he’d
make odd little noises under his breath while he worked. At one point Louis could easily deduce
the meaning behind every sound. A hum if he agreed with a particular thought, a grunt if it was too
elaborate a pattern, a click of his tongue if it was a possibility. While this was fascinating at first,
Louis had soon become too distracted to focus on his own work, and so he had excused himself.
Zayn had sent him a warning look but Louis had promised he’d just needed silence.

Though he wasn’t sure if silence was exactly what he was searching for. He’d spent enough time
with his wandering thoughts since the night of the bar to last him a lifetime. God, he’d made such a
fool of himself. He’d brazenly flirted with the agent, in all honesty it hadn’t been his initial
intention, he’d just been curious if he could get the same reaction out of Harry that Harry had been
stirring in him. He was almost certain Harry had been interested, in fact he knew he was, but
apparently not enough to actually follow through with any of it.

It was an odd game of hot-and-cold that Louis wasn’t sure he knew how to play. Constantly being
left out of the loop because Harry kept changing the rules or adding new levels. Even the metaphor
was complex. How apt. Beyond that moment, Harry had spent the rest of the night engaging easily,
his dry wit taking Louis by surprise at every turn. As if he couldn’t’ve just been blessed with looks
and charm, he had to have a sense of humour as well. Louis was well and truly fucked.
If it wasn’t thoughts of Harry, then it was the pestering concerns over the case and Richards
plaguing his mind, making him stumble distractedly in the hallway beside Clifford. He’d tried
Harry’s office next but it’d been locked, so he and Clifford had simply looked for a small space to
sit down.

Soon after, the fluorescent lights and the rushed, frenetic energy in the bull-pen had warred with
Louis’ own senses which were feeling rather reactive to the tension building around him. It felt like
he was on the verge of sensory-overload, the white of the lights distorting his field of vision. When
Clifford started whining loudly, disrupting agents from their work. Louis had known it was
paramount that he find a room similar to his crawl space at home.

Niall had bumped into him momentarily, his voice sounded warbled to Louis’ ears, as if he’d been
talking underwater. The blonde had taken one look at him and guided him swiftly to a supply
closet. Once there Louis had sunk to his knees near the back wall and shut his eyes, his minds’ eye
spinning with strange faces - faces he’d seen pinned to boards, not only in Harry’s office, but
victims from other cases in the bull-pen, their voices calling out to him. They whispered their
names, their ages, how they died - even where their bodies were. Louis had grabbed his notebook
from his bag and scribbled as much down as he could. It didn’t take long for a headache to bloom
at the base of his skull, nausea rolling in his gut. Thankfully Niall had returned swiftly with a glass
of water and Louis had wordlessly handed him the sheet of paper with random locations and
victims details doodled all over it.

Niall had stared at the page, his eyes wide before looking at Louis. He nodded and slipped out of
the door, flicking the light off on his way. Clifford curled up tightly to Louis’ side and he shut his
eyes tightly, letting the drowsiness wash over him.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, drifting in and out of consciousness, he felt better though,
his subconscious settling after the onslaught of information. The whole ordeal couldn't have lasted
more than a couple of hours. So he was surprised to hear a loud commotion echoing down the
hallway beyond the closet door. Thundering footsteps drawing nearer, a soothing voice over the
sound, only to be met with a rumbling, displeased tone.

Then the door to the office was flung open, the light from the hallway falling over Louis’ face, he
squinted at the outline of the man. Though he didn’t need to see his face to know who it was,
because a second later the door was shut behind him and Louis was pulled to his feet and then
against a hard, firm chest.

Harry’s arms tightened around his waist as he buried his face into Louis’ neck. Louis caught a
glimpse of Richards’ face, mocking, and then a swarm of anger the second Harry touched him.
Slowly he raised his own arms around Harry’s neck, curling his hands into his soft, thick hair. He
thought he was trembling until he realised that it was Harry. The agent’s entire body was vibrating.
Louis was glad for the darkness of the room because there were too many emotions pouring from
the man holding him, they swept by so quickly it was hard to pinpoint. It varied between rage,
annoyance, fear, relief.

He decided to focus on the last, desperate to find a reason for the agent’s need for comfort, worried
about what could’ve frightened him. He opened his mind to Harry, trying to get a read on him. His
breath hitched in his chest when only a single image flashed through the agent’s mind. It was of
Louis, he wasn’t exactly sure which day it was, but he was wearing his baby pink jumper. His
cheeks were rosy and his chin was lowered as he bit back a smile, his eyes twinkling. The next
image that Louis managed to glimpse was of Richard’s holding a photo, the photo of a surgeon's
table and -
Oh.

“I’m okay,” Louis murmured into Harry’s ear, “I’m right here, I’m okay.”

Harry’s arms tightened around him momentarily before he pulled back, his eyes were blistering
with heat as they settled on Louis’ own, his hands tight on Louis’ hips as he lightly shook him.

“Where were you?” He snapped, “Zayn said he hadn’t seen you for hours, that he’d been looking
for you.”

“I just needed to get away from -”

Harry shook him again, “You swore you’d stay with him. I trusted you.”

Louis’ eyelashes fluttered as he swallowed, feeling slightly overwhelmed, he settled his palms on
Harry’s chest and could feel how rapid his heart beat was, “I-I know, I’m sorry. I-I…there were -
and the photos -”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a steadying breath. A moment later his hands released
Louis' hips, though he didn’t pull away, he instead dragged his open palms over Louis’ sides to
soothe him.

“It’s okay, just…let me know next time, okay?”

Louis blinked at the sudden change but nodded quickly, “Yeah, of course, sorry I shouldn’t’ve -”

Harry shook his head, “No, I overreacted, it’s fine. We’re fine.” His bright green eyes held Louis’
own as he spoke, his words low and calming.

“Niall helped me,” Louis mumbled.

Harry smiled softly, “I’m glad, I heard you helped him too? Something about finding a girl's body
in a neighbouring state. That’s great work, Lou.”

Louis blushed, “Was kind of fun for a moment, until the migraine.”

Harry hummed, his hand slipping up along Louis’ back to settle on his neck where he slowly
started massaging the muscles. Louis’ eyes fluttered shut and he moaned softly as he tilted his head
back. He slit his eyes slightly to look up at Harry, but Harry’s eyes were on his lips, travelling over
his neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Louis murmured, his entire body feeling soft in Harry’s arms.

He regretted the question as soon as he asked it though because suddenly the warmth in Harry’s
eyes faded, his hands slipping away from Louis’ skin as he straightened. As if realising where they
were and what he’d been doing he took a step back and Louis wished he could go back in time to
two minutes ago, when Harry had looked like he’d been a second away from making this closet a
cliche. Even imagining it sent a lick of heat down Louis’ spine.

“We should get back to my office, Zayn and Niall are waiting for us there.”

Louis bit back a sigh as Harry opened the door once more and stepped out, he looked down at
Clifford. If dog’s were able to look exasperated, he was sure his labradoodle had nailed the
expression.

“You and I both, pal.” He muttered and picked up his leash before following Harry down the
hallway.

He received a few stares as he walked past the bull-pen, he sensed more admiration than hostility
though which eased the tightness growing in his shoulders. Harry still shot a glare at anyone who
stared for too long though, which Louis had to fight not to giggle over.

He shut the door to the office once they’d both stepped inside and Harry walked to his chair, all but
falling into it with a sigh, his eyes weary.

“Did you get anything out of him?” Zayn asked, he was leaning against the wall beside their
whiteboard. Niall was perched on the arm of the chair across from Harry. Louis walked to the wall
below the window and sat down on the ground, settling Clifford at his side before giving Harry his
full attention.

Harry licked his lips, “I suspect your approach would’ve worked, Z.”

“But?” Niall asked, eyebrows twitching into a frown as he tried to read Harry.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Louis before settling on Zayn, “Turns out he already knew who I was, he’d
overheard the agents on guard duty talking.”

Niall cursed, his shoulders sinking as he scrubbed his hands over his face. Zayn was studying
Harry though, his head tilted to the side.

“You were gone for quite some time.”

At that, Harry grit his teeth, “The fucker played me, made me think I had him.”

“He made a demand though…” Zayn murmured, still watching Harry.

Harry flexed his hand where Louis could see a purpling bruise forming over the knuckles, an image
of Richard’s bloody nose flashed past his minds’ eye and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“No, he didn’t.” Harry said, his tone even and non-negotiable.

Zayn hummed, a moment later Louis whipped his head in Zayn’s direction in surprise.

“Me?” He asked the profiler.

Zayn looked caught off guard for a second but it was Harry that replied, “No.”

The profiler was still looking over at Louis, and then he shrugged, “I’m just assuming based on
Harry’s reaction when he got here that his meeting involved you in some way. It was just a basic
process of elimination. Richards’ is the type of man that would hold his cards close to his chest,
he’d want to be in control, yet he’d be willing to reward good behaviour - so to speak. It was a
guess that he asked to see you, I’d want to see the person who ruined my life.” He said.

“It was a flippant comment, made to get a reaction.” Harry snapped.

Niall shook his head, “Bet he already got his reaction long before that, and no comments that man
makes should be regarded as flippant. He obviously wants to meet with Louis.”

“We should -”

“Jesus christ, I said no .”

Louis had been watching the agents talk, their energies growing from frustrated to spiking levels of
annoyance and desperation. They were running out of leads and had still not found a connection
between the victims or why their arms had been positioned to mark certain times. While the
thought of sitting across from Richards’ literally made Louis want to be able to disappear; he knew
he also couldn’t spend the rest of his life living under the man’s shadow, constantly waiting for the
other shoe to drop, or for something to happen if he could potentially avoid it.

“I’ll meet with him.” He murmured when a hush fell, Zayn and Harry had been in the middle of a
stare-down, but at the sound of Louis’ voice they’d both looked over.

“That’s not necessary, we’ll figure something else out.” Harry said, though his eyes were glued to
Louis’ face, as if trying to decide whether Louis was being genuine with his offer.

Niall hummed, “We’re not having much luck, I think it could help.”

“He’ll slip up, Harry. It won’t be pretty, but he will make a mistake - I can guarantee it.” Zayn said,
his tone almost pleading. Louis bristled slightly at the fact that he’d made the offer but that Harry
still had final say over the matter.

“I’ll think about it.” Harry said at last, his tone dismissive as if the argument were closed.

At the idea that seemed to form in the profiler's mind, Louis looked up at Zayn and nodded in
agreement. He’d help them however he could, even though he would’ve preferred having Harry
there. If Zayn felt it was detrimental to the case, then that was answer enough. His eyes widened as
he caught Louis’ motion, he mimed texting when Harry looked down at his files and Louis
inclined his head. He’d like to think he’d never do anything behind Harry’s back, but there was a
chance Harry wasn’t as detached from the case as he should be. A prickle of guilt ebbed into
Louis’ chest at that, knowing that there was a possibility he was the reason for it. He couldn’t
focus on that now though.

Harry’s phone rang then, and they all looked at it as he swiped the screen and answered. His eyes
narrowed slightly at the whiteboard as he listened, he hummed.

“A different one?” He asked, writing something down in his notepad, “And the fibres you found?”

Zayn and Niall shared a glance before looking back to Harry once more.

“Got it, thanks Sarah.” He hung up and tossed his pen on the notepad as he looked up at the three
of them, “They found a unique type of soil in the cast they’d made of the boot print at the crime
scene. A specific part of the northern woods, there’s only a single warehouse there, might not be
abandoned but I said we’d check it out.”

“What did Sarah say about the fibres?” Niall asked.

“The polyester was from a hunting jacket, they agreed that the burlap material was from a sack of
some sort. Likely used to cover the victim’s head.” Harry’s eyes gleamed then, “The type of jacket
though…can only be bought at a handful of hunting store retailers in Portland. Niall, I’ll need you
to get in contact with them, ask them to send us their security tapes from the last month, as well as
receipts for the jacket.”

Niall hopped up, excitement bubbling around his aura.

“We should head to the warehouse now.” Zayn said, heading for the door. Harry was already rising
from his seat, grabbing his badge and wallet.
“I’d like to come.” Louis said as he quickly rose.

Everyone in the room froze as they looked at him. Louis felt heat prick at his cheeks but
straightened his shoulders and met their eyes.

“I think I’d be able to help.”

Harry bit his lip, his eyes unsure, “On one condition.”

Louis softened slightly, a smile tugging at his lips, “I’ll tell you if it gets too much.”

With a nod of acceptance Harry pushed in his chair and grabbed his jacket that was slung over the
back, “Let’s go then.”

The drive was longer than expected, and the terrain was rough through the woods. Louis hadn’t
even gotten to sit in the passenger seat beside Harry, though he hadn’t complained, Clifford also
had more room on the backseat with him. He was sat beside another agent who cast his dog furtive
glances while Harry barked orders over his phone. The two black SUV’s behind them also had
their sirens wailing, and Louis couldn’t quite understand the approach.

When Harry hung up, he leaned forward, shifting Clifford aside gently, “Why are we blasting the
siren’s if the unsub could be there?”

Harry’s lips twitched in amusement at his use of the moniker, “Well, most importantly, if the
Angel Killer is inside he could have someone with him. If he hears the sirens we might be able to
save a life - that’s standard procedure. We also don’t have a warrant so sneaking onto the property,
and performing a possible arrest wouldn’t benefit us in court.”

Louis hummed, “So you’re hoping to scare him and do, like, a chase?”

Harry seemed to be struggling not to smile, though the dimples popped out a moment later, “If he
runs then that would be a dead giveaway, but essentially, yeah.”

“Can I -”

“You’ll stay in the car until I say it’s clear,” He twisted his head slightly to look over at Louis, his
hand still braced on the steering wheel, “You wearing the vest I gave you?”

Louis looked down at the bulletproof FBI-emblazoned vest he was wearing and gave it a firm tug
in answer, it was a bit big but he figured it would still do its job.

“Clifford?” Harry asked.

Louis grinned down at his dog, he’d been given a K-9 issued vest to wear and Louis had only taken
about fifty photos to send to Liam.

Zayn snorted from the passenger seat but didn’t say anything.

“Is there a reason we’re bringing the psychic and his mascot on a field trip?” The agent beside
Louis muttered.

Harry looked at the agent through the rearview mirror, “Awfully chatty for someone who’s added
no real value to the investigation, Stevens.”
“We all know I do my best work when guns are involved.” He shot back.

“So twenty percent of the time?” Zayn asked.

Louis giggled into his wrist.

“The fuck you laughing about?” Stevens snapped at him.

“Watch your mouth, or you’ll be hiking back to the field office.” Harry said through gritted teeth.

Stevens muttered something under his breath, Louis hadn’t needed to hear him to understand the
sentiment. While Harry may not be well liked, he was certainly respected by the majority,
unfortunately the majority did not include the man sharing the backseat with him.

A few minutes later the SUV’s all pulled up near a large, red-brick building. Louis swallowed as
he took in the broken windows, the walls to the right of the building had collapsed and they’d been
left untouched. He was certain that no one owned the property, it had been left to rot and decay, as
nature had slowly reclaimed it once more. Vines and roots had pushed up through the cement and
had grown over the rubble. It was rather beautiful in it’s desolation, though beyond that Louis
could feel the sense of eeriness, the wrongness. Something bad had happened here. There was an
echo of darkness, a shadow that breathed in between the eaves.

“I’ll find my own ruins, where I can hide away with a book and a bottle of wine and contemplate
the impermanence of empires.” He murmured, his eyes tracing over the remains of the building.

Harry looked over to him questioningly and Louis blushed, not realising he’d spoken out loud.

“Quote from one of my favourite books, it always stuck with me.” He shrugged.

They all looked over the building once more before Harry hopped out of the car, Zayn and Stevens
hurried to follow. Harry circled the car and then pulled Louis’ door open, Louis blinked in surprise
but held still as Harry leaned forward and tightened the straps on his vest, making sure it was
secure.

He looked around the car for a moment, his eyes scanning the forest beyond them as he bit his lip.

“I’ll be fine.” Louis said, his eyes finally capturing Harry’s.

The agent looked like he was contemplating Louis’ words before he looked over his shoulder,
“Stevens, you’re staying with the car.”

“What?” The agent barked in annoyance.

“If anyone comes out of the building, or the forest, arrest them.” Harry said, ignoring the man’s
defiance, he looked back at Louis, “Stay here, and if…if someone comes out of the woods no one
will think less of you for hiding. In fact I’m going to ask that you do that.”

Louis was about to argue when Zayn interrupted, “Harry, the team’s ready, we need to go.”

Harry’s eyes held his for a moment, bold green clashing with blue, slowly Louis nodded. Harry let
go of the vest, but not before giving it a sharp tug, causing Louis to shift incrementally closer to the
agent. Harry’s fingers skimmed his knee and then he was stepping away and shutting the door
between them, he sent Louis one last glance over his shoulder before he and Zayn headed for the
warehouse.
Louis spent the next few minutes chewing at his lip and hushing Clifford’s whines, it wasn’t that
he was anxious exactly, he just couldn’t get a read on the place from this distance. He could admit
he didn’t like the idea of Harry being in there, even though it was his job and he was trained for it.
It also didn’t help that Stevens was pacing beside the car, radiating annoyance and barely paying
any attention to his surroundings.

He could hear voices begin to call out from the warehouse and so he pushed his door open, leaning
out slightly. A second later Harry emerged, stepping over a fallen wall, his face drawn and grim.
Louis tightened his fists around his sleeves, tugging intermittently, as he waited for Harry to reach
the car. The agent looked up and met his eyes as he slipped his gun back into his holster.

“It was clear,” He muttered. Louis tried to hold eye contact but Harry seemed to be openly avoiding
his gaze. Something tugged at Louis’ gut when he realised that Harry was hiding something.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Harry clenched his jaw, “I really wish you’d stop doing that.”

The corner’s of Louis’ lips tugged downwards at the harsh tone, he looked down at his hands in
his lap, he knew it wasn’t personal and that Harry was merely frustrated about the warehouse being
empty. It didn’t mean that Louis wasn’t hurt, though.

He cleared his throat, “Could I go inside?”

Harry scrubbed a hand over his jaw, his eyes flicking back to the warehouse as he shifted slightly,
“Zayn mentioned it, but…”

“There’s blood and you’re worried I might get triggered?”

Harry sighed, “Do you have your meds?”

Louis patted the pocket on Clifford’s K-9 vest and sent Harry a hesitant smile.

“Stay by my side, I mean it Lou, if you try to dodge me I’ll drag you back out and leave you in the
office from here on out.”

Louis rolled his eyes as he hopped out of the car, landing on his feet lightly, “Yeah, woof-woof to
you too.”

Harry pulled a face in question and Louis laughed.

“All bark and no bite,” He said and nudged Harry with his shoulder.

It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, “You’re insufferable.”

“And decidedly not -cute.” Louis winked.

Harry smirked as he turned back towards the building, “Come on, you’re stalling.”

“Call a spade, a spade. See if I care.” Louis said, mimicking Harry’s slow drawl.

Harry threw his head back and cackled, the sound so absurd that Louis could only stare, his own
smile blooming across his face as his cheeks flushed. God, he was beautiful, especially like this.
With his face tipped up towards the sun, the afternoon light casting shadows in his dimples, and
flecking the ends of his lashes and curls with gold.
They walked towards the building in silence after that, though Louis couldn’t shake the image of a
laughing Harry from his mind, as if it had been tattooed into the backs of his eyelids or burnt into
his retinas like an after flash. Everytime he blinked he could see the man, his dimples on display,
as he laughed in the sun.

Harry helped Louis over the crumbling wall that led into the first room, then waited to make sure
Clifford could manage on his own. Agents were shuffling in and out, some were wearing gloves
while others carried cameras. Harry led him, with a hand on his lower back, down a dark hallway;
the smell of damp cement and something foul filling his senses. He wrinkled his nose, his eyes
darting from suspicious piles of materials to what was very obviously animal scat. Dirt and
smudges of something dark coated the walls, peeling paint crumbled at random places, exposing
old bricks.

Louis snuck a glance into each room they passed, there was nothing much to see other than more
glass and debris or vegetation in some state of decay. It was also eerily quiet beyond the hushed
murmuring of the gathered agents. He was certain he’d seen a rat scurry from one corner of the
room to the other when Harry clicked on his flashlight. Thankfully Clifford wasn’t all that
fascinated in it, the dog spent most of his time looking up at Louis or sniffing the ground
curiously.

The hallway opened up into what Louis assumed was the main room of the warehouse, he paused
as he took it all in, feeling the familiar rush of faded imprint echoes brushing against his minds’
eye. There were old, rusted chains lining the walls, shackles dangling from their ends. A large table
above a laid out plastic tarp on the ground was left in the centre of the room. The ceiling was made
of glass, similar to that of an atrium, casting natural light over the scene that greeted them. Certain
parts of the room were shadowed due to the plant overgrowth that had crawled atop the right side
of the roof. It looked eerily similar to the giant legs of a spider splaying out across the glass.

Louis’ eyes flicked back to the table, to the straps that lay discarded on either side, but mostly what
he focused on was the blood. It was old, that was clear to him, even from this distance. His eyes
were drawn to a specific row of chains at the far wall across the room. Slowly he made his way
towards it, bypassing the table and agents entirely, as if he was magnetised. He was lost to his
impulses. He could vaguely hear Harry call out to him, his tone confused, before he followed.

His footsteps echoed across the cement floor, bounding off of the flaking walls. A breeze cut
through the shattered windows and rustled the discarded tarps laying about, though all he could
focus on was that one set of chains. He tilted his head to the side as he closed the last remaining
steps between the wall and himself, his hand slowly raising, fingers outstretched.

As soon as his finger’s closed around the cold metal, his vision went dark, the sounds around him
fading out as if he’d been submerged under water and had sunk to it’s silent depths.

Everything was black, though small pinpricks of light pierced through the darkness. He could hear
shuffling, like footsteps. The sound of a plastic sheet being unrolled, shaking out. A humming.

Someone was humming. A tune?

He didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t long before laboured breaths filled his ears. They weren’t his
own, he knew where he was now - what he was seeing, the fear he was feeling.

Aaron Blake.

“I-is someone there?” Aaron asked, his voice a weak whisper. Louis could tell he’d been beaten,
could feel his aches as if they were his own, could recognize it. He realised his vision was
obscured by a burlap bag.

The humming continued, interrupted briefly by the sound of clanging metal hitting an indiscernible
surface. The surgical tools?

“Look man, I don’t know what this is about…There’s obviously some kind of misunderstanding.”
Aaron’s tone was pleading.

“No mistakes.” The voice called back.

Warning lights flashed in Louis’ mind then, his entire body rebelling against the vision, trying to
pull his subconscious as far away from the sound of that voice as possible. Beyond his own inner
turmoil, the sound of persistent ticking could be heard, like that of a clock.

It was all too much, he could briefly hear Aaron crying out, could feel movement. Though Louis
couldn’t bring himself to concentrate, his mind was trying to force itself from the vision.

“Louis.”

“N-n-o, my name’s Aaron. Oh God, no stop! Wait, wait I’m not -” Screaming filled the spaces of
Louis’ head, bouncing off the walls of his skull. The sounds anguished and bloodcurdling.

The ticking grew louder, as if the clock were right by Louis’ ear, counting down the seconds until
the screaming would end. Except the screaming didn’t stop, not even when the sound of the first
sickening crunch lanced through the back of his mind. The cries turned to howls - pain, terror,
agony.

Beyond that…beyond the pain and terror - Louis tried to pry his consciousness from the vision as
his own scream joined that of Aaron’s, because beyond what he was feeling - Louis could sense
pleasure.

The Angel Killer’s pleasure.

Another wet crunch landed, a snapping sound filling his ears.

Louis was screaming.

“Lou, come on - snap out of it!” Harry’s voice cut through his mind suddenly, his consciousness
flooding back in an instant, “ Louis! ”

Louis gasped, his eyes snapping open. Harry was looking down at him, his face drawn in panic, his
hands gripping Louis’ biceps as if he’d been shaking him. They were both still standing, though
Harry was slightly hunched over now to look at his face. Upon seeing his responsive eyes, Harry
pulled him into his chest and wrapped his arms firmly across his back.

“Jesus Christ ,” Harry breathed into his hair, his breaths trembling against his ear. “What the
fuck.” He whispered, as if to himself, relief clear in his tone.

Louis gripped onto Harry’s vest for a moment longer, breathing in the calming scent of coconut,
before he recognised the sound of Clifford’s whining and barking.

“I’m okay,” He blanched at the sound of his hoarse voice and repeated himself.

Harry drew back, holding him at arms’ length to look him in the eye, “What happened? You were
fine, and then all of a sudden you just froze. I tried talking to you but you weren’t responding and
then you just started - you were screaming .” His eyes looked slightly crazed, his hair sticking up
at odd ends as if he’d been running his fingers through them repeatedly.

Louis swallowed, “I - I had a vision…of Aaron.” He looked around the room, noticing it was
empty.

As if reading his mind Harry said, “I sent them out when you started screaming, I just - I wasn’t
sure if you were overwhelmed or -” He cut himself off as he dragged a hand over his mouth in
exasperation, “Fuck.”

Louis nodded, feeling his cheeks heat, “Thanks…I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect that to happen.”

“Has something like this happened before?”

Louis squirmed slightly under Harry’s heavy gaze, he reached out and stroked over Clifford’s head,
“Kind of, it’s like an echo on an item or place…when an event occurs that could elicit strong
emotions, normally the place or item involved creates like a kinship.”

Harry’s eyes slipped to the chains, the manacles. “You saw him, Aaron, shackled here?”

Louis swallowed, his eyelashes fluttering, “I…I was in his head.”

“You -” Harry cut himself off with a curse, “Jesus Christ, Louis. Why did you let me bring you in
here if you knew something like this could happen?” He snapped.

Louis bristled, “I didn’t know it would happen, it’s not exactly a common occurrence - how was I
supposed to know the draw would be so strong?”

Harry grunted as he dragged a hand over his face, then pinched the bridge of his nose, “This was a
bad idea, you can’t be involved like this.”

“Like hell I can’t!” Louis growled.

“Of course you can’t! You’re too close to this case.” Harry shouted back, his voice reverberating
across the room.

Louis raised his chin, his eyes cutting as he met Harry’s own, “I might be too close to this case, but
at least I’m not letting my emotions cloud my judgement.” He said, mind flashing back to Harry
not wanting him to meet with Richards.

He knew it was the wrong thing to say the second realisation bloomed across Harry’s features. The
agent held his eyes a moment longer, before his posture straightened and he nodded slowly,
dragging his tongue over his lower lip as he considered Louis.

“Harry -”

“You’re right, clearly this isn’t working.” Harry interrupted, his tone void of any emotion. Any
leadway Louis had made into getting to know the man faded in an instant as he all but watched the
walls Harry had built around himself snap up behind his eyes. “You’ll have another agent assigned
to you as soon as possible.”

Louis swallowed thickly, only then did his hands start to tremble. Throughout their argument Louis
had been strong, he’d not buckled, not even when Harry had raised his voice - that was how much
he trusted the man before him. It was the threat of Harry not being by his side any longer that
made his anxiety rear up with a vengeance.
 “That’s not what I -”

“Harry, come take a look at this!” Zayn’s voice rang through the room, he was standing in the
doorway, regarding them curiously. Harry looked over at Louis, then down at Clifford before he
nodded and spun on his heel.

Louis watched him go, his heart in his throat and his fingers twisting around his sleeves. Clifford
nudged his thigh with his head then, bumping him into motion. He swallowed thickly and followed
the agent out of the room.

“Louis, go wait by the car.” Harry called out from an unknown room in the hallway beyond. With
a grumble, Louis grabbed Clifford’s leash and made his way out of the building.

Chapter End Notes

Also, thank you so so so much for all the support on this work so far. It means the
world to me :) x
 Harry
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

You could still be

What you want to

What you said you were

When I met you

You've got a warm heart

Medicine, Daughter

Harry stepped into the smaller room off to the side of the hallway, ignoring the twist in his gut at
the look of regret he’d seen on Louis’ face. It was one thing for him to admit he might’ve gotten
too close to look at the case objectively anymore, it was another for Louis to have noticed it as
well, and used it against him. The momentary humiliation at that had been brief, followed shortly
by something that felt too similar to defeat. He’d barely known Louis a full week and already the
man had him wrapped around his little finger. It was obvious that distance was the next logical
step. While he knew he’d care for anyone in Louis’ shoes, this was slightly off the mark and
ventured into territory he wasn’t ready to journey into.

It smarted, but Louis had been right. He needed to remove himself from whatever was happening
between them - it was too confusing, and clearly Louis wasn’t reciprocal, regardless of his blatant
flirting the other night.

“Want to talk about it?” Zayn murmured, his warm, brown eyes steady as he watched Harry. His
hand was braced over a hanging flap of plastic tarp.

Harry grunted, “Nothing to talk about.”

Zayn regarded him a moment longer before he nodded, “Brace yourself.” He said before pulling
aside the tarp.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“What am I looking at?” He said softly, his heart beat filling his ears.

Zayn bit his lip, “Some kind of…shrine, I’d guess.”

There were photos of Louis everywhere, all from the media - interviews, press-tours, his book.
They were cut out and stuck together like a terrifying collage of perverse obsession. Smeared in
what he hoped was red paint, but likely isn’t, was the number nine over the photos. Below the wall
of pictures was a table holding burnt out candles, some symbols carved into the wax, and oddly
enough, multiple different cog-fixtures. Parts of all kinds of dismantled clocks. It was only then
that Harry realised he could hear ticking, he looked around the room quickly, his mind flashing to
thoughts of a bomb.

“It’s a collection of clocks in a container.” Zayn muttered, squinting as he leaned closer to the
photos on the wall.

“Is his obsession with clocks or time?”

“What’s the difference?” Zayn asked, looking at him curiously.

Harry shrugged, “Could be that time is relevant to him, or it could just be the ticking.”

Zayn hummed, “We still haven’t gotten anything from the arm placements…so let’s say both for
now?”

Harry huffed in frustration, “Is anything about this case ever going to make sense?”

Zayn leaned over the table with the candles and fingered a latch on what appeared to be some type
of wooden jewellery box, he frowned as he opened it, lifting the box so the contents could be seen
in the light.

“Harry, take a look at this.”

At his tone, Harry hurried to his side and squinted into the box which contained small chips of
white.

“Is that…bone?” He asked, feeling his skin crawl.

Zayn shuffled the box slightly so the pieces would separate, “I count seven, you?”

“Same, did forensics mention anything about bone pieces missing?”

Zayn shook his head, “Could’ve been chips that had splintered from the ribs when he’d axed
them.” the profiler’s eyes flicked back to the table, he stepped back and ducked his head slightly,
“There’s something under the table.”

Harry stepped towards it and squatted, on the shelf lay a book. He frowned as he pulled it out and
flipped it around. Harry sucked in a sharp breath as he looked at the title, “It’s Louis’
autobiography - about the Angel Killer and how he’d escaped.”

Zayn bit his lip, his eyes troubled, “I doubt he's a fan of the writing, so I’m going to assume it’s
research.”

“To make sure he doesn’t make the same mistake next time?”

Zayn nodded.

Harry stared down at the book in his hands, his heart in his throat as he swiped his thumb over the
author’s face. His brilliant blue eyes and crinkly-eyed smile looking back at him.

Louis had tried to meet his eyes on the drive back to the Field Office, but Harry remained stoic, it
was best for both of them that he no longer let his personal feelings affect the way he worked this
case. It also meant that calling Booth on the way to the office to let him know he was now Louis’
personal security was paramount, even though he could feel Louis’ glare cutting into him from the
backseat. Zayn had shot looks at Louis through the rearview mirror, before sneaking glances at
Harry. Both remained silent.

Clifford had shifted forward slightly so that he could lay his paw over Harry’s elbow on the
armrest of the centre console. He hated that it made his control over the decision waver, that the
dog made him want to call Booth back and say he’d changed his mind. That he’d protect the man
and his dog. In reality he knew that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep until this case was over, and
not being glued to Louis’ side would feel like a festering, unreachable thorn.

This time though, Harry would use his pride as a shield, and he would stick to his decision. He
would no longer have to go on run’s with Louis, or watch him pout and ring his fingers around his
oversized jumpers’ sleeves. He wouldn’t have to follow him on dates or join him for drinks at his
friend’s bar and best of all, he wouldn’t have to comfort him during his night terrors or have him
fall asleep in his arms again. If a small part of him felt a bit cheated by the loss, then he could
acknowledge that it was only a very small part, one that was easily ignored.

Zayn told Louis about the clocks they’d found and Louis shared what he’d experienced in his
vision, he was only interrupted a handful of times by Stevens’ scoffs before Harry reared his head
up and sent the man his iciest glare. The agent muttered under his breath but remained quiet for the
rest of the drive. For a moment, hope sparkled in Louis’ eyes before Harry swung his cold eyes
onto him before looking away. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Louis' shoulder’s sinking.

Once they reached the field office, Harry removed the vest from around Clifford, letting Zayn
remove Louis’. He then helped Zayn carry some of the evidence boxes they’d been permitted to
take with them up to his office. Louis shuffled in behind them as they placed the boxes along the
wall. They wouldn’t be unpacking the boxes while he was here though, so Harry booted up his
computer and shot off an email to Booth regarding Louis’ schedule. He contemplated whether he’d
want Louis at the office, so instead he added that Booth take Louis to Zayn’s office after his
morning runs. Booth accepted easily, though he admitted he wasn’t all that fond of running but
would do his best. Louis would just have to accept that.

When he glanced up Louis was leaning against the wall, looking slightly out of place, like he
wasn’t sure he was welcome anymore. Harry swallowed down the impulse to guide him to the
chair that he’d been working in for the past couple days.

“Booth’s on his way up to take you home, pack your stuff.” He said instead, his tone likely a bit
too cool.

Louis swallowed as he stepped up to the desk and grabbed his laptop, shutting the lid as well as his
notebook. He bit his lip as he packed his bag, Clifford looked up at him curiously, emitting a soft
whine. Harry bit his cheek, refusing to let any warring emotions flicker through his mind, knowing
that Louis might pick up on them.

Louis slung the heavy bag over his shoulder and stepped back to the wall where he waited, his
hands fisted around his sleeves.

Zayn sent Harry a glare but didn’t comment, he merely flipped open his files and started penning
down the evidence they’d collected and his thoughts on them. Harry could feel Louis watching
him, could see his fingers clasping and releasing the material clenched in his small fists.

A moment later Louis stepped up to his desk and cleared his throat, Harry looked up from his
screen making sure to keep his expression blank.
“Harry,” Louis’ tone was soft and almost pleading, “C-Could we, uh, talk?”

“About the case?” He asked, speaking at a normal level and not affording Louis any privacy.

Louis’ face flushed prettily and he blinked, frowning slightly, “Uhm, no, I -”

“If it’s not about the case then I can’t really spare the time.”

Annoyance flickered in Louis’ eyes, the uncertainty fading fast, “Is that right.”

It wasn’t a question but Harry still nodded in dismissal and turned back to his screen. Fingers
flying over the keyboard to outline what they’d found in an email to Sarah, along with some
photos. The forensic team would be receiving the evidence soon.

A knock at the door sounded and then Booth entered, Harry pretended he hadn’t noticed that Louis
had stayed glued to the spot in front of his desk, staring at him expectantly. His body was tense
with anger, his jaw clenched. He turned his glare on Booth and Harry fought not to smile, he still
looked like a disgruntled kitten in his soft clothes, and softer hair that fell lightly over his forehead.

“I need to go to my Charity tomorrow.” Louis said to no one in particular.

Zayn hummed, “I’m meeting with another profiler around lunch time.”

Booth grimaced, “Yeah, sorry, won’t be able to either. I was pulled on another case so I’ll have to
assist tomorrow.”

Harry sighed, “I’ll take you to the charity and drop you off at Zayn’s office after.”

Louis bristled, “Thanks.” He muttered.

Harry tried not to watch him and Clifford leave with Booth, he failed. His eyes trailed over the
tense line of Louis’ shoulders as the other agent guided him out of the office, he swallowed hard
and hoped to god he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Styles.” Zayn said, his head still bent over his work as he made his notes.

“How so?” Harry asked, his tone very much disinterested.

Zayn looked up at him, then sat back as he set his work aside and regarded him fully, “So you’re
doing all of this to avoid the risk of getting personal feelings involved -”

“I -”

“But” Zayn interrupted, “now you’re putting him at risk for the very same reason.”

“He’s not at risk, Booth -”

“Is not you. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a brilliant agent, but he’s not invested in Louis like you are.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Being invested is what got me into this mess in the first place, I need to get
the kid out of my head - he’s clouding my judgement.”

“So go out and fuck someone, don’t punish him because you can’t control your emotions.” Zayn
snapped in exasperation.

“That’s enough.” Harry said, his voice firm.

Zayn huffed, shaking his head as he grabbed his things and stood from where he’d been perched on
the edge of the chair, “You’re making a mistake, I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

Harry watched him go in silence and tried not to consider whether his best mate was right. He knew
he was stubborn to a fault, that he tended to react emotionally to certain situations and entirely too
cold to others. There was no inbetween when it came to him, but on this he had to be right. Nothing
would ever come of anything between himself and Louis, they were two completely different
people and it was time he reminded himself of that.

“I suspect the unsub won’t be too happy about us taking his trophies.” Niall said after he’d taken a
large sip of his beer.

They’d returned to Sixth-Sense after work, Harry had wanted to go to Molly’s instead but one look
at Zayn’s pouty face had broken his defences.

“You think we took him by surprise?” Harry asked.

Zayn nodded quickly, “He would’ve taken the trophies and Louis’ book with him. He’d likely also
have wanted to clean up first.”

Harry cursed, “Should’ve rigged the place with cameras and left it all behind.”

Zayn licked his lips in thought, “Doubt the US Attorney's office would’ve approved that, they’d
sooner dust everything for prints.”

“Something tells me this guy would’ve noticed if anything was out of place anyway.” Niall
muttered darkly.

“How many Louis-lookalikes did we manage to find?”

“In the C.I. database? About four.” The blonde said, his eyes darting around the bar.

Harry tugged at his lower lip in thought, “How would this guy gain access to a C.I. database?”

Zayn shrugged, “It’s not that hard, he could hack into it.”

“Yeah, but…if you’re suffering from a severe psychosis, would that be something you’d be able to
focus on?”

Niall twisted back to them at that, “The Angel Killer might not have a firm grip on reality, but that
doesn’t mean certain parts of his mind aren't hyper-focused or aware. He could’ve worked in IT or
something before.”

Harry sat up quickly, “We could see if there were any employee disputes within IT companies in
the city?”

Zayn’s eyes were glued to Liam who was working at a bar, a slight line appearing between his
pinched eyebrows, “Hey…does Liam kind of remind you guys of anyone?”

Niall and Harry looked over at Liam curiously, they both sent Zayn questioning looks.

Zayn tilted his head, “This might sound a bit bizarre but…does he kind of look like the first
victim?”
“Ryan Hendriks?” Harry looked back at the bar, studying the bartender. A moment later his
eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Ni, do we have the file for all the younger members of the gang
Louis and Liam had dismantled all those years ago?”

Niall frowned, “Uh, no but I can get it, why? What are you thinking?”

Harry turned over the timeline in his mind, and then mentally cursed himself, “ Jesus ,” He
breathed as he turned back to them, “Louis spent a year in that gang, in that time he managed to
take it down from the inside. Six months later we’ve got a serial killer running rampant. It can't be
a coincidence that the first victim looked like Liam.”

Niall chewed as his nail, “But why go for Louis himself and not a lookalike if it’s about the gang?”

“Because Louis was the first to fall, he started the domino effect.” Zayn murmured. “He wouldn’t
think it was worth killing the rest, most are in jail so he wouldn’t be able to complete his pattern. It
would frustrate him too much.”

“Is there a chance he was incarcerated during that five year gap?” Harry asked.

Zayn tilted his head side to side, “Possibly, though not in a prison…maybe a psych ward.”

Harry snapped his fingers triumphantly, “Let’s check nearby psych wards for patients' who’d been
admitted during that time and compare them to the receipts from the hunting stores.”

Zayn grinned and Niall’s eyes widened excitedly.

“Fucking ace!” Niall said.

When Harry looked back at the bar he met Liam’s eyes, the bartender was scowling at him. He
tried his best to ignore it.

L (07:02 ): Hey, where are you?

Harry read Louis’ message, then rolled over in bed and pushed his phone aside. A few minutes
later it buzzed again.

L (07:08): Booth said he’s joining me for my runs from now on??

Again, Harry ignored it, trying in vain to steal another hour of sleep. It didn’t take long for the
darkness to claim his mind once more.

Louis was fidgeting nervously beside him in the car, every few minutes he’d tug at his black
bomber jacket or pull at his shirt, or mess with his hair. Harry grew more and more annoyed with
the primping as the silence grew.

“Thought you were just meeting with the builders.” He snapped when Louis reached for his hair
again.

Louis' spine straightened and he swallowed, tightening his fingers around Clifford’s leash, “Oh, uh,
no I spoke with them over the phone yesterday.”

“So what, then?”

Louis nibbled at his lip ring, his eyes flicking over passing buildings distractedly, “I…Cassie’s
been trying to get me to meet with the kids, I k-kind, like, agreed to? Meet them, I mean.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he tightened his grip on the wheel, making sure to keep his tone
even, “You didn’t want to meet them before?”

Louis was busy petting Clifford when he snuck a glance, the dog had rested his head on his knee, “I
mean, like, I have but…I didn’t want to make a bad impression.” He swallowed thickly, “Or, uh,
scare them - b-because of my past.”

Harry fought not to reach out, he could already feel himself softening, “I’m sure you’ll make a
great first impression.”

“Yeah well…I didn’t with you, so.” He muttered.

Harry licked his lips and sighed softly, “That had nothing to do with you and everything to do with
my prejudices.”

Louis looked over at him but he kept his eyes on the road, “These kids might have prejudices too.”

Harry inclined his head, “Maybe, but I doubt they’ll be bad ones, given that you’ve done nothing
but help them.”

“I was there to help you too.” He argued.

“Lou,” Harry murmured, cursing himself for using the nickname. He met his unyielding blue eyes
firmly once they’d stopped at a red light, “They’re not comparable, okay?”

Louis held his gaze a moment longer, his eyes tracing over Harry’s face as if searching for the
truth, before he gave a small nod and looked away.

“Do I, I mean,” He gestured at his clothes, a blush licking across his cheeks as he ducked his gaze,
“Is this outfit -”

“You look lovely.” Harry murmured.

Louis’ hands stilled in his lap, his shoulders loosening as he looked quickly to Harry, then away,
“Thanks, H.” He said softly, hiding a smile.

Harry felt something swarming in his gut that was acutely indistinguishable to butterflies at the
nickname.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Don’t mention it.”

When they reached the charity, Harry couldn’t help but gape silently at the sheer size of it. It’s
architecture was modern yet cosy, much like Louis’ home, and had a full view of Mount Hood and
the forest surrounding the back of it. The tall, white walls were clean and on one side there seemed
to be a mural painted there. On closer inspection Harry felt a soft smile tug at his lips. It was of
Clifford, with the handle of a Pride flag clasped between his teeth.

“The kids apparently loved it.” Louis said, flushing.

“It’s great,” He said as he parked the car. They hopped out and when Harry looked up, a pretty
blonde girl was rushing towards them.
“Lou!” She squealed excitedly before wrapping him up in a firm hug.

Louis chuckled as he patted her back, “Hey Cas.” She pulled back and kissed his cheek before
turning to Harry, her eyes widened as she looked him over.

“Wow.” Her face turned crimson and she slapped a hand over her mouth, “I mean, hi! Hello,” She
giggled.

Louis frowned slightly as he helped Clifford down from the passenger seat.

“Nice to meet you. Cassie, right?” He flashed her a dimpled smile as he shook her hand, “‘m
Special Agent Harry Styles.”

Louis made a disgruntled sound as he rounded the car, he shot a glance at their clasped hands, then
looked between the two curiously.

“ Special Agent , that sounds important.” She giggled again, fluttering her lashes. He knew she was
flirting, and he couldn’t say he minded. She was a pretty girl, and given that he could practically
see the steam blowing out of Louis’ ears made it all the more amusing.

“Should we head in?” Louis asked, his tone slightly clipped.

Harry pushed his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and bit down on it lightly so he wouldn’t
laugh at the reaction.

“Hmm?” Cassie asked, looking at Louis as if she’d forgotten he was there, “Oh right, yeah of
course, the kids are so excited!” She pulled her hand from Harry’s after a squeeze and guided them
towards the entrance of the building. Louis rolled his eyes behind her back, but soon after Harry
noticed the nerves settle back into the line of his shoulders.

He looked over the wall in the hallway, smiling softly at the drawings, the majority of them looked
like Cassie. He tried to see if there were any of Louis and frowned when he couldn’t find them.
Then he remembered that the kids hadn't met him yet, there’d obviously be a wall dedicated to him
after today then. He caught himself when he realised what he’d just been thinking, that he’d been
offended on Louis’ behalf and had to placate himself over it. Jesus, where’s my mind gone?

When they reached the large, double-doors Cassie stopped and turned to Louis, “They’re busy
drawing at the moment to keep themselves busy until you arrived,” He could hear murmured
voices inside, “You ready?” She asked Louis.

Louis sucked in a deep breath, his eyes glued to the door, he reached down and settled a hand on
Clifford’s head. A second later he looked back at Harry, his eyes lined with worry. Harry
swallowed and reached forward to lightly press his knuckles against Louis’ hip, he nodded
encouragingly. Louis held his gaze a moment longer then exhaled and nodded to Cassie. With a
happy squeal she pushed the doors open and stepped inside, they followed.

“Hello guys! Look who’s here.” She called out, beaming.

When silence greeted them, and dozens upon dozens of little eyes swung their way, Louis backed
up against Harry’s chest imperceptibly. Harry kept his fingers against his back, offering some of
his own strength. The children surrounding them were of all races, ages and genders. His heart
clenched painfully at the thought that so many kids didn’t have a place to go, and then his heart
swelled realising that, thanks to the man pressed up against him, they weren’t living on the street.

Beyond the lined tables he could see a board with faces pinned up along the wall, below were their
names and pronouns as well as a small representative-doodle that the kids had likely drawn
themselves.

The silence was broken when a small voice called across the room, “Is that Louis?”

“Yes!” Cassie called, “Everybody, this is Louis Tomlinson and his pronouns are he/him. Would
you like to come say hello?”

They all nodded enthusiastically, large smiles stretching over every single face.

“Okay, come on then, just don’t crowd him. Remember what we talked about!”

A second later the sound of scraping chairs assaulted their ears and then the kids were rushing
towards them excitedly. They all stopped a few feet in front of Louis and sent him large toothy
grins.

Harry drew back slightly as Cassie started calling out for questions. When Louis had realised they
wouldn’t be swarming him, or trying to pet Clifford his shoulders had relaxed. He was now
speaking to the group, eagerly answering all of their questions. His eyes sparkled as he gestured
animatedly, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Cassie sidled up to Harry when she noticed that the group had taken their own turns asking
questions and that she was no longer needed. Louis sat down on the floor and the kids quickly
followed. Their current topic was of life on the street, what it had been like for some of them, how
they’d survived before they’d found this place. Louis’ eyes were soft with understanding, his hands
settled into Clifford’s fur as he listened to each child’s story. He was so attentive to them, so
intuned with their emotions that Harry felt his own heart bursting.

He was brilliant with children, he had no idea why Louis had even doubted himself for a single
second. One moment he was teasing a child lightly, sharing a giggle and the next moment he was
shedding a tear and offering a ‘cuddle’. The kids' adoration was painstakingly obvious in the way
they stared at him, the way they answered his questions. They seemed genuinely surprised that
Louis wanted to know about them, though that soon faded. Some kids at the back remained silent,
they’d started out wary and curious, though now they were fully engaged, smiling when Louis
laughed or leaning forward slightly when he spoke. Louis was magnetic, he always knew this, but
to see it beyond themselves was something entirely different.

Every single child was hooked on him, and half was likely in love, and Harry couldn’t blame a
single one of them. Which was a devastating shock to the system, though all he had to do was hear
Louis ask permission to ‘cuddle’ a child again and the notion would solidify in his mind. Fuck.

One of the younger boys was watching Clifford, his wiggling foot near the dog’s paw. When
Clifford dropped his paw playfully on the boy’s foot he giggled, drawing Louis’ attention. For a
moment the boy looked worried until Louis giggled too and then offered to let the boy pet the dog.
It didn’t take long for every child to want to pet him, so with a barely-perceivable deep breath that
only Harry noticed, Louis unclipped the dog’s leash and let him roam around freely with the kids.
Harry was surprised when no one squealed, all the kids remained sitting, and calmly waited to see
if Clifford would come over to them.

“We had a talk with the kids before Louis arrived, they normally get told about Clifford when they
arrive - being curious of the mural, and all - but today we reminded them that he’s a service-dog
and that Louis needed him. They had to be quiet around him at all times.” Cassie murmured to
him.
“Thank you,” Harry heard himself say distractedly.

Cassie whipped her head to the side to look at him, her eyebrows raised in surprise, “Oh.”

Harry cleared his throat and shifted slightly, realising his mistake. “For, like, making my job easier,
I mean.”

Cassie pursed her lips and hummed knowingly, “You’re welcome - for making your job easier.”
She winked and Harry felt heat spread over his cheeks.

“Guess I know why my brother never got a call back.” She said with a chuckle.

Harry looked at her, taking in her features before huffing, “You set him up with Evan?”

“I take it by your tone that my brother didn’t get your approval?”

He shrugged, “‘s not any of my business.”

“Sure.” She grinned.

When he looked back, the kids had dragged Louis over to their tables and had started showing him
their drawings. He was pointing some out and exclaiming excitedly, a few kids gave him some and
he held them to his chest with a soft smile and murmured thank-you’s.

“He’s one of my favourite people.” Cassie said softly as they watched him giggle with the back of
his wrist pressed to his mouth. Just then, Louis looked up and met Harry’s eyes, he softened
slightly and gave a self-deprecating shrug.

“He’s definitely something.” Harry murmured back, holding Louis’ gaze until another child caught
his attention and he looked back down at their art. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cassie
studying him, her eyes darting back to Louis again.

It just so happened that Harry was watching when Louis pointed at something on one of the
children’s drawings, he was smiling one moment, but when the girl said something back, his eyes
flew back to the drawing and his hand stilled. His entire body freezing as his eyes latched onto
whatever he was looking at, when the smile slipped from his face Harry had already made it
halfway across the room. He wasn’t sure what he’d find, the most pressing thing in his mind was
that there was a chance something had triggered him in some way and Clifford was still with
another child.

When he reached him he settled his hand on Louis’ lower back, he was looking down at a drawing
of a clock, some of the numbers were the wrong way around, the three and the six were swapped.

He frowned as he leaned closer, “Lou?” He murmured softly to him, his mind spinning over
whether the clock had given him some kind of flashback. It sparked memories of his own, of Louis
screaming in agony in that warehouse, his eyes blank. “Are you with me?”

Louis’ eyes fluttered up to his own, “Harry,” He breathed, “I think…I think I’ve figured it out. The
clocks, the ticking.”

Harry looked over his face, he looked slightly pale, and his fingers were starting to tremble. He
looked over at Cassie and signalled for her. She was by their side in an instant.

“Hey, we need to get going, could you bring Clifford please?” He said softly so the kids wouldn’t
hear.
She nodded quickly, keeping the easy smile on her face though her eyes looked troubled. Cassie
got Clifford and brought him over, and the dog instantly alerted that Louis was in fact anxious, his
ears flicking up slightly as he nudged his nose against his thigh.

“Come on,” Harry murmured into his hair, wrapping an arm around his waist and running his
thumb soothingly over his hip. Louis settled against him but still raised his arm to wave at the kids
and call out goodbyes.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered to Cassie, when his eyes teared up slightly, Harry shifted to block
him from view of the kids.

“Don’t worry about it, I told the kids that you might leave suddenly, and that it was nothing to
worry about.” Cassie waved him off, Harry appreciated the fact that she was a few steps back, as if
not wanting to crowd him. He wondered if he should be doing the same. When he shifted and
started removing his arm, Louis’ body tensed and he looked up quickly at Harry’s face. Harry
pretended he was just readjusting his stance before pulling him into his side again, and felt Louis
settle against him.

“Let’s get to the office, okay?”

Louis nodded quickly, taking a deep breath.

Harry bit his lip then turned back to Cassie, “Do you maybe have a bottle of water or juice?”

Her eyes lit up and she nodded quickly, ducking down the corridor and into a room, she returned a
moment later with a juice box.

“Thank you,” He said as he took it from her.

“It was great to see you again, Lou. The kids loved you.” She said.

Louis sent her a smile, though he looked a little paler than before, “They were great, Cas. You
should be really proud.”

“Yeah, you should’ve -”

“Sorry, Cassie.” Harry interrupted, “I really need to get him out of here.”

She nodded quickly and waved them off, “Of course! See you soon.”

They sent her smiles and Harry hurried them down the hallway. His mind spun with a way to
distract Louis in the meantime, so it was only fitting that when they reached the wall of artwork, he
smiled and squeezed Louis’ hip.

“Gonna be pictures of you up here soon.”

Some colour filled Louis’ cheeks as his eyes ran over the wall, “You think so?” He asked, his
voice slightly hesitant, as if he hadn’t wanted to ask but was curious.

Harry frowned, “Of course, why wouldn’t there be?”

Louis shrugged, “I mean, like, I don’t do much you know? Cassie -”

“Might take care of them, but you’re the reason for all of this, Lou. You’ve given them a second
chance, I’m surprised it’s not you on the wall outside with a pride flag between your teeth instead
of Cliff.”
Louis threw his head back and cackled in surprise, “God, can you imagine?”

“You’d have blokes lining up ‘round the block, thinking it’s a gay-bachelors.”

Louis giggled into his shoulder, “You’re ridiculous.” He murmured, his voice fond.

Harry bit his lip, realising his mistake. Fuck, how on earth was it this hard to keep his distance? All
he had to do was not be fucking soft with the kid, yet here he was, tripping over his own feet to
make him giggle.

When they got to the car he opened the door for Louis and tucked Clifford’s tail to the side before
shutting it. Once he was inside and the car was started he handed the juicebox to him.

“Take your pills,” He muttered as he looked behind them while he reversed. When he looked back
over, Louis was staring at him with large eyes, his lips softly parted. “What?”

Louis shook his head quickly, blinking rapidly, “Nothing, sorry.”

The drive was mostly quiet, at one point Louis started fiddling with the dials trying to find a decent
station. Harry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in thought, mainly wondering what it was
that Louis had figured out.

“So, uh, Liam mentioned he saw you guys out last night.” Louis spoke up as they were turning into
the field office.

Harry hummed distractedly as he flashed his badge to the guard.

“Was it like…for work?”

Harry frowned at the soft tone, “No, just casual, spoke about work but you know how it is with
mates.” he shrugged.

Louis was quiet for a beat, “Right, yeah. Uhm, it’s just that…like, Niall said he’d mention if you
were all heading out.”

When Harry looked over, Louis’ face was bright red, his eyes averted and his fingers twisted
around Clifford’s leash in his lap. It dawned on him then, his stomach twisting as he realised why
Louis was acting this way. Louis only had Liam and after the other night when the five of them had
hung out he must’ve figured it would be a regular occurrence.

Harry swallowed dryly, he saw this moment for what it was. It just broke his heart to do it, he
cleared his, “You didn’t think you’d be coming out with us all the time, right?” The chuckle stuck
in his throat, so he didn’t force it.

Louis’ entire body stilled, his shoulders curling in slightly, he didn’t meet Harry’s eyes. “No,
obviously not. It’s just - because you know, Niall…” When Louis swallowed thickly and shrugged
Harry cut off the engine and opened his door. Why the fuck did he feel like he was going to be
sick?

Louis opened his own door and climbed out of the car shakily, his cheeks were still red but he
looked more determined now, as if annoyed by his own weakness. Harry wished he could tell him
he wasn’t weak, that he was one of the strongest people Harry had ever met. That it hurt to push
him away - but then he remembered that Louis had pushed him away first, by pointing out that he
was getting too attached.
They walked into the building at a clipped pace, both silent and refusing to look at one another, it
was frustrating to be back here once more.

He called out to Niall as they passed the bull-pen, waving him towards his office and then rapped
on Zayn’s door and called out to him too as they went by. Once they reached his office, Harry
unlocked it and stepped inside, pulling off his jacket and draping it over the back of his chair.
When Louis moved to do the same, Harry stopped him.

“Don’t get comfortable, Booth’s fetching you soon, just need the information.”

Louis’ hands stilled on his jacket, he sent Harry an icy glare, “Seriously, H?” Beyond his
annoyance Harry could see the confusion in his eyes, the slight hurt.

Zayn and Niall came in then, thankfully interrupting the confrontation.

“What’s up?” Niall asked as he sank into his seat, “Hey, Lou!”

Louis looked at Niall hesitantly, “Hey, Niall.”

Niall frowned slightly at the passive tone, shooting Harry a glance, “Missed ya last night.” He said
easily.

Louis’ eyes lit up, like a fucking Christmas tree and Harry was so fucking fucked because it made
his heart stutter, “Really?”

Zayn frowned too, “Yeah, of course. Let’s grab drinks tomorrow night?”

Louis beamed, nodding quickly as he withdrew his hand from Clifford’s shaggy head.

“You don’t need to use Louis to get into Liam’s pants.” Harry said.

The room stilled, the atmosphere suddenly icy as Louis looked from Harry to Niall and then to
Zayn. He watched as Louis slowly tugged at his sleeves, his eyebrows twitching together.

Zayn was glaring at Harry, and surprisingly, so was Niall.

Louis swallowed, “I mean - yeah, Liam’s a great guy, so.” He cleared his throat, “If you just want
to hang out with him, I don’t need to be there - it’s cool, really.”

Niall’s hand curled into a fist in his lap, he released it slowly as he looked at Louis, “Zayn and I
really enjoy your company, Lou. Sure, Zayn’s got a crush on your friend but you can’t let me third-
wheel by myself.”

Louis smiled hesitantly, looking at Zayn who nodded, “It’s true.”

“Great, so now that we’ve established that you do actually need Louis to get laid, can we move on.
‘Ve got a lot of work to do and half my day’s already gone.” Harry said.

“Jesus.” Zayn muttered under his breath.

Louis straightened, bouncing his leg a little and Harry wished he would sit down, but of course he
wouldn’t because Harry told him not to get comfortable. So he was left standing near the closed
door, it felt wrong. Harry felt wrong, this was all so fucking wrong. Louis should be getting cosy
on the floor with Clifford, leaving his jacket lying somewhere random as if it was his bedroom or
something, like he’d done before.
“Right, so, while we were at the Charity, this one girl had a drawing of a clock. The numbers were
the wrong way around or swapped. It got me thinking…” He looked over at Zayn, “I’m not sure
how common it is anymore but I spent a couple of weeks in a clinic after…you know, to deal with
my PTSD. They had all kinds of patients on the spectrum, one that stuck out at the clinic for me
was the schizophrenic ward. They were loud, constantly banging on their doors and stuff - anyway
- Zayn, what’s the most basic way to test someone for dementia or Schizophrenia.”

Zayn frowned in thought for only a moment before his eyebrows shot up, “By making the patient
draw a clock.”

“Correct, and if the clock is incorrect, the numbers. That’s a sure sign that they’re on the spectrum.
Get this though,” They all leaned forward as Louis paused, “When I had my vision, when Aaron
was put on the table, I could hear ticking right by my ear. I thought it was a clock, but my first
instinct was that it was counting down until I stopped screaming, until I died.” Louis turned and
walked towards the board, he tapped the time stamps, “What if this is how long they lived from the
start of the blood eagle.”

Niall nodded, “It was said to be a test of strength. It meant you were a worthy sacrifice to Odin if
you could endure it for a long period of time.”

“The obsession with the clocks though? The test?” Harry shook his head, confused.

“He doesn’t believe he’s mentally ill. Someone close to him likely recognized the signs when he
drew a clock and tried to admit him to a clinic for testing, so he uses the clocks now to prove that
he always knows where the hands are, how to read them. He’s trying to prove himself.” Louis
said.

“This is brilliant work, Lou.” Zayn said.

Louis beamed proudly.

“Niall, we’ll need to go ahead with what we discussed last night. Cross-referencing those receipts
with psych-wards in the area.”

“Psychiatric hospitals.” Louis corrected.

Harry cleared his throat, “Psychiatric hospitals.”

Zayn and Niall jumped up, “I’ll call up the hospitals and see what I can find.” Zayn called over his
shoulder as he headed for the door.

“I’ll get those receipts,” Niall said and shut the door behind him.

Louis looked at the closed door for a moment before he turned to Harry, “Guess you’re stuck with
me now.” He murmured.

Harry suppressed a full-body shiver at the tone and booted up his computer instead, to keep his
hands busy, “Booth’ll be here soon.”

Louis sighed, shaking his head, “This is ridiculous, H. Can we atleast talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?”

Louis threw his hands up in exasperation, “Jesus Christ, I’m trying to apologise for what I said at
the warehouse, okay?”
 Harry shrugged, “Not necessary.”

“Oh really?” Louis’ tone was icy, he cocked his hip and crossed his arms and it was so goddamned
sassy it made Harry’s mouth water, “So, let me get this straight, you get to fuck up multiple times
and I just have to swallow your ‘sorry’s’ like pills, yet the second I make a mistake and try to fix
things that’s suddenly not an acceptable approach? You’re so full of shit.”

“My only fuck up was apologising in the first, should’ve just let this shit run its course.” He said,
waving between them dismissively.

“Run its - what the fuck? I thought we were becoming, like, friends or -”

Harry snorted, the sound like a gunshot in the silence that followed. Slowly he looked up at Louis,
who was frozen in the centre of the room. His arms were no longer crossed sassily, they looked
like he’d wrapped them around himself like a hug, he was looking down at his dog and his cheeks
were growing redder by the second.

Slowly Louis nodded, as if to himself, “Okay, Harry. What’s done is done, you got what you
wanted.” He picked up Clifford’s leash and made his way to the door.

“Wait here for Booth.” Harry said, though he couldn’t even recognise his own voice, it sounded
slightly strained.

Louis looked over his shoulder, his eyes landing somewhere on Harry’s chest, not even meeting his
eyes. “Fuck you.” He opened the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Harry quickly messaged Niall to keep an eye on Louis.

N: Guess someone should, you prick.

He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing he were anyone else.

Chapter End Notes

It can only get better from here right? Sorry x

 Louis
Chapter Notes

P.S: I listened to Ashes and wine while writing the first scene (before the run), if you
like immersing yourself in a book with music then I recommend giving it a go :) x

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I don't want mud-slinging games

It's just a shame-

To let you walk away

Is there a chance a fragment of light

At the end of the tunnel a reason to fight

Is there a chance you might change your mind

Or are we ashes and wine?

Ashes and wine, A Fine Frenzy

Louis had learnt a long time ago not to cry over boys. Especially the pretty ones. He’d learned that
they were only ever looking for ways to further their own means, that they didn’t give a fuck about
anyone around them. The boys that tossed around ugly slurs, and covered it with soft kisses and
pretty words and apologies. Until the cycle would rinse and repeat and you’re left on your bedroom
floor, staring at the ceiling, feeling as if your heart’s sinking out from the back of your chest and
into the floor, your tears dripping down the sides of your cheeks. A literal fucking puddle of
despair.

Louis had been through that far too many times to count, the only thing that changed was the view
from the ground. It went from his bedroom ceiling, to a starry night sky, to another bedroom
ceiling, later a ship's cargo hull, a bedroom, a cell, and then…and then another kind of cell. Rinse
and fucking repeat. There was one difference though, he now owned the ceiling he stared up at. It
was his and while he might be trying his damnedest not to let the tears fall, at least he had that.
He’d built something out of nothing, he was strong, he was a survivor and he would sure as fuck
survive Harry Styles .

Because he was a liar.

Louis wasn’t anything to him, he’d been so sure he’d caught a glimpse of something in the car.
Something far beyond what he’d’ve ever imagined for himself. That someone would want him
beyond what he could do, that someone could look past all of that and see him . It had been a
fantasy for so long that he’d given up on those spiralling thoughts. Had stopped wanting to put his
heart on the line for anyone. Then Harry had told him to take his pills and that nameless something
had snapped between them.

It was all lies though.

Harry was just like the rest of them. Except he was worse, because he was harder to read, so Louis
hadn’t seen it coming at all. He could never get a strong handle on Harry’s thoughts, it always felt
grainy, as if he had a frosted-glass wall up between them.

At Least he had Niall and Zayn now. The two of them had tracked him down after he’d left Harry’s
office to exchange numbers. They were genuine, he could see that, they really liked him and
actually wanted to spend time with him. He didn’t need Harry - Harry who laughed at the thought
of Louis thinking that they were on their way to friendship.

The tears he’d been fighting finally bled from his eyes. Louis sighed and swiped at them furiously,
there was no fucking point to this. It was ridiculous to lay here and wallow. He needed to get out,
to clear his mind.

With that in mind, Louis got up swiftly and grabbed his jogging clothes, yanking them on quickly.
He grabbed his belt with his bear-spray and taser and strapped it around his waist as he called out
for Clifford. The dog came eagerly, even though they’d already gone for a jog that morning. Louis
stepped out on the deck and Booth looked up from where he was reading at the bench. He looked
over at Louis, then down at his own suit.

“Oh, sorry, Louis. I didn’t bring a change of clothes.” He said, his eyes apologetic.

Louis bit his lip and looked out over the forest, it was still an hour or so before dark, “Think I could
still go?” When Booth opened his mouth Louis rushed to add, “I promise if I’m not back in like
forty-five minutes you can come after me.”

“I don’t know…” Booth looked out at the forest.

Louis groaned, “Oh come on, Booth. We haven’t had any problems up here. It’ll be our little
secret.”

Booth sucked at his teeth, “You won’t tell Harry?”

Louis grinned, though it felt more like a grimace, “Nope.”

Booth sighed and Louis danced internally, “Alright, forty-five minutes. I’m timing, ya.”

Louis shot him a thumbs up and took off before he could change his mind, Clifford panting
excitedly beside him. They breached the treeline and Louis drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs
with the smells of damp earth and mulch. It had rained a bit earlier so the ground squelched under
his shoes as he went. Clifford loped ahead after he’d unclipped his leash, barreling through piles of
dead leaves and Louis laughed. His chest hadn’t felt this light in so long. He could almost pretend
the past week and a bit had been a fever dream. Had it nearly been nine days since the letter had
arrived? It felt like a month had gone by.

He pushed himself a little harder, wanting to feel the burn in his calves, the itch in his legs. His
breathing was even as his arms pumped at his sides, he felt fucking fantastic. He realised he hadn’t
run alone since Harry came into his life, not that it had been that long, it was just…it felt nice to
feel independent again. To feel like he didn’t have to rely on anyone. He was his own person, he’d
survived so much yet he was constantly reduced to a twitchy, pinkening mess whenever he was in
the agent’s presence. He wished he could be stronger, that he could say how he really felt instead
of stuttering over every second word. Or using fillers like ‘you know’ or ‘I think’ or ‘I mean’ as if
he were constantly waiting to be interrupted with ridicule.

Except Harry only ever interrupted him to soothe, or to compliment. Well…before he’d gone and
said that stupid shit in the warehouse. He hadn’t even meant it the way it had come out, but if
Harry was so worried Louis had gotten the wrong idea about Harry liking him, he didn’t have to
be. Harry had made it pretty fucking aparent that Louis wasn’t even on his radar. Harry likely went
for pretty blonde girl’s like Cassie. Or funny guys who had their shit together, they didn’t stutter or
stop breathing or have weird fucking visions that freaked him out.

God, as if Louis had even stood a chance .

He huffed as he ran, not in this lifetime, and probably not in the next. The Harry Styles’s of the
world conquered many things. They had charm, beauty, wit and hideously adorable laughs. They
were clever and brave and didn’t settle for less. They did incredible things, like solving cases or
saving lives - and, again, they never fucking settled .

Who even fell for someone after nine days? Like what the fuck was up with that? How mortifying.
Not to mention the fact that Harry had spent most of that time being hostile towards him. So,
clearly, he wasn’t in his right mind at all - or he had a humiliation-kink. Yikes. He considered, very
briefly, if he should just bite the bullet and try to take a stranger home. It wasn’t an appealing
thought. Goddamnit.

Louis was still pushing himself when he glanced around. His eyebrows drew together as he slowed
down. Clifford barreled into his legs excitedly, breathing hard and Louis instantly felt guilty for
running so far. They passed by the last marker, but he wasn’t sure how long ago that was. He only
vaguely recognized his surroundings, the thought immediately sent anxiety spiking through his
mind. Clifford was instantly alert, whining.

“Hush, Cliff.” Louis soothed, darting his eyes around and spinning sharply on his heel to retrace his
steps.

You’re a fucking idiot. His mind whispered.

He picked up the pace slightly, keeping an eye out for any bear or wolf tracks. It would honestly be
just his fucking luck if -

Clifford froze, his head swinging to the side.

No, no, no, no.

Louis unclipped his taser and shakily pulled it into his hand. It made an odd sound when he flipped
the switch. He squeezed his eyes shut - because of-fucking-course he hadn’t charged it the night
before, in fact he couldn’t remember the last time he’d charged it because he’d had a man with a
gun glued to his side for the past week.

He gripped at Clifford’s collar firmly and pulled him along, silently pleading with the dog to listen.
A loud snap rang through the forest, Clifford growled and Louis bit off his own whimper as he
looked around quickly. He tucked his taser away and grabbed the bear-spray Harry had given him.

“Please, Cliff. God, please,” He said between his teeth, his tone pleading and desperate as he
clipped his leash on and pulled the dog’s stiff body back towards where they’d come.
It was probably just a wolf, though if it was a lone wolf then they were fucked, if it was a black
bear they might still be able to get away if they left right-the-fuck-now. Clifford’s head moved
slowly, doing that thing again, as if he were tracking movement in the trees. Louis bit the
metaphorical bullet and followed the dog’s gaze. He couldn’t make out much, the forest was still
and silent.

Louis was about to shift the dog again when movement between two compacted trees caught his
eye. He snapped his head in that direction, his breath stuttering in his chest. It hadn’t been a wolf,
whatever it was had been too tall for a wolf, too dark. Likely a bear…if it were standing.

Oh, God.

For a moment Louis thought Clifford was whining again, until he realised the sound was coming
from his own throat. He cut himself off, tears springing to his eyes as his hands trembled. Above it
all, he desperately wanted Harry.

No, no, no.

He wasn’t going to fall apart, it could’ve been his eyes playing tricks on him. He needed to get his
fucking dog to move.

“Move, Cliff.” He snapped. The dog ducked his head before looking up at Louis, and he felt guilty
instantly for his harsh tone, but there was no way in hell he’d ever leave his dog behind. “Let’s
go.” He said as he picked up the pace, Clifford started running at his side, though his head swung
back towards the trees intermittently. Louis kept his eyes peeled for any movement as well. He still
felt shaky, though relief soon swarmed him when, up ahead, the trail marker appeared. They still
had quite a bit of distance to cover but he recognised the terrain a lot better now.

When the top of his house broke out through the treetops he sighed in relief. He was nearly home,
he was fine, and nothing had happened. When he neared the treeline by his house, he figured it was
best to slow his approach, in case Booth was watching out for him, he didn’t want to give the agent
a scare. He stumbled lightly over a root and turned back to look at it, though as he was turning back
towards his house, he thought he saw movement between the trees again. A shape that was
decidedly more human.

He bit back a yelp and sped up, not caring what Booth thought. He and Clifford burst through the
trees and Louis didn’t stop running until he reached his front door.

“Woah, where’s the fire?” Booth chuckled.

He considered whether to tell Booth about what he’d seen, but Booth was only one man. If he went
into the woods, then who would stay here at the house? He swallowed thickly, panting as he
hunched over. Fuck, he should’ve never complained about Enzo, he may have been a pervert but at
least he had a gun.

Louis forced a chuckle, “Was cutting it pretty close there, didn’t want to worry you.”

Booth grinned and shrugged easily before turning back to his book. Louis looked over at the forest,
and for the first time, he was scared there was something or someone within, looking back.

It had been three days since he’d seen Harry, not that he was measuring time based on that fact.
Time was made up of hours, minutes, seconds - the way the sun rose and sank, and the moon
waxed and waned. It was decidedly not measured by how long it took for the dimple in Harry's
cheek to form when he was on the verge of a smile. Or that moment between when Louis would
deliver a punchline, and Harry’s eyebrows would pinch together before his eyes would light up in
understanding. Or when they’d slow down from their run and Harry’s breaths would slowly even
out as his heart rate steadied. Nope. Certainly none of that.

Louis spent those three days indoors, he had missed his runs. The only time he’d stepped outside,
or disabled his alarms was to take Clifford out. Otherwise he was holed up on his couch with his
exterior cameras running live on his phone screen while he worked on his book until the earlier
hours of the morning. To say he was lonely was an understatement. He hadn’t gotten a call from
Niall or Zayn about meeting up the day after his fight with Harry. Which let the blooming
insecurity in his chest fester like a dying thing. Maybe Harry had told them he no longer wanted
Louis around, or maybe they’d just come to that realisation themselves.

Liam had sent him a text to say he’d be busy at the bar all week, and Louis tried his hardest not to
feel like his only mate was getting pulled into a group he was no longer welcome in. Though he
doubted he’d lose Liam over a boy, no matter how pretty that boy was. He knew Liam was lonely
though, that there had been a time long ago that he’d wanted more from Louis than he was willing
to give, it just wouldn’t be fair of him to interfere now. No matter how it made him feel, his best
mate deserved some happiness too.

Harry hadn’t called or texted, though Louis knew he called Booth nearly three times a day to check
in. He was half tempted to take Booth’s phone so that he wouldn’t be able to answer, so that it
would force Harry to drive out to the property to physically check in on him. How pathetic. He was
going down the rabbit hole. Even his agent, Ryan, had sent back his recent chapter with far too
many notes to pass for anything other than a rewrite. He hadn’t been able to kill off Harry’s
character, in fact, the character was now a possible love-interest. He’d sooner die of mortification
than publish that shit, because God forbid Harry actually ever read it. Not that he would though,
Harry has never supported his work.

So, Louis spent three days moping around in his sweats and jumpers, eating cereal and playing his
jazz music too loudly. On day two he binged an entire crime documentary, and found he missed
being in Harry’s office, in the thick of it all. He missed learning about the way the FBI worked,
and most of all, he was desperate for news of the case.

Beyond the cabin fever, the itch of being stuck in a singular space for too long, lay the ever-
present fear. Something felt off, his senses were all over the place, and on the edge there was a
looming darkness. Like a shadow in his peripheral vision. While he could always sense Richards’
burning hatred, this felt like more, and it felt closer. Lurking like a beast in the night, waiting,
watching, plotting. It made his skin prickle on the back of his neck when he stood by his windows
as he looked out at the darkening forest. He’d always loved the exposure, but now he wished he’d
invested in curtains or that he’d at least taken the architect's advice and tinted the glass.

His phone vibrated then, and he bit at his lip ring as he read Niall’s message. He and Zayn were
meeting for drinks at Sixth-Sense and wanted him to join. Louis contemplated his options,
wondering if he was ready to go out. He looked around the living room, at the blank television
screen, the fire dying out in the hearth, the comforters and pillows strewn about.

Might as well.

He texted Niall back that he’d see him in an hour.

“So, we were wondering if you’d meet with Richards the day after tomorrow, we were able to
schedule a meeting.” Zayn’s golden-brown eyes held his own, his hands were wrapped around his
beer though he hadn't taken a sip yet.

Louis looked at Niall who was biting his nail worriedly, he cleared his throat, “I mean…yeah, I can
do that. Just - Harry doesn’t know?”

Niall shook his head, “No but he’s tied up with hospital records at the moment, it’s taken a lot of
wrangling to get them to send over the information - a lot of it’s redacted for patient
confidentiality.”

“And you’re sure this is a good idea? Not telling him, I mean.” Louis ventured, uncertainly.

Liam was shooting them glances from the end of the bar, noticing Louis’ frown, he sent the
bartender a placating smile. Zayn looked to Liam over his shoulder then turned around quickly and
sipped at his beer. Louis suspected they’d chosen to sit at the table closest to the bar for exactly
that reason, so Liam and Zayn could make eyes at each other. It was rather adorable, if not
annoying.

“Probably not, but I’ll handle him.” Zayn shrugged though it wasn’t all that convincing.

“I’ve dealt with enough hostility to last me a lifetime, so…” Louis muttered.

Niall chewed his lip, “I can’t say he’s done right by you since you met him, but he’s actually a
really great person, under all that baggage.”

Louis pulled a face, not wanting to have this conversation.

“It’s true, he’s just misunderstood, people look at the surface and figure he’s too much work to get
to know better. I promise you though, you’ll never find anyone more loyal or protective, Harry will
always have your back no matter what.” Zayn said, and the love that shone in his eyes had Louis
squirming in his seat.

“Well he’s very lucky to have you two.” Louis said at last, for lack of a better response.

Niall cleared his throat in the silence that followed, “Think we need to do some shots.”

Louis chuckled and waved Liam over.

It didn’t take long before they’d exchanged their beers for spirits and gotten to know tequila on a
more personal level. Louis had a love-hate relationship with tequila, he loved it but it hated him. In
between the shots, he ordered whiskey sours. Feeling his limbs loosen and his chest lighten.
Clifford was huffing at his feet, and Louis suspected it probably wasn’t ideal to drink when you
were on medication, but whatever. He’d allow himself one irresponsible night. Maybe he’d even be
able to sleep through it.

The fun thing about being out with Niall Horan, was that the agent was a social butterfly, he loved
people and filled any quiet spaces with chatter and cackling laughter. When Liam joined them at
the end of his shift Louis was fully engaged in a story of his most daring police evasion he’d ever
performed and Niall was in hysterics, even Zayn was shaking his head in amusement. It wasn’t that
the story was all that funny, it was just that the level of bad-luck Louis had faced that day was
rather bizarre. He’d been carrying cocaine, not because he was dealing but because his friend at the
time had asked him to keep an eye on it for him. He’d been standing on a street corner minding his
own business when a K-9 unit had driven through the area on a practice run and the dogs had
started signalling at him.
He hadn’t stuck around long enough for the cops to pull over, though of course running was a dead
give-away so a chase had ensued. He’d hopped a fence and broken his ankle, luckily he’d managed
to drag himself into a building, unfortunately it just so happened to coincide with a drug bust that
was completely unrelated to him or his gang involving the cops he thought had been chasing him.
He’d snuck into the vents and somehow made it onto the roof, then had to jump to the next roof.
He still managed to hold onto the cocaine though.

Niall shared some stories for their days at the training academy, and Louis got to hear snippets of
their time with Harry. Zayn teased Niall relentlessly at coming dead last in the class though still
managing to pass. Apparently the blonde had a knack for falling ill on physical assessment days.

“I have irish blood, so ‘m really pale - ‘s not a pretty sight when I get sweaty and overheated.” Niall
slurred.

Louis called that he needed a refill and grabbed Clifford’s leash as he stumbled slightly towards the
bar, he could hear Niall’s distinctive cackle at the display and flipped him off over his shoulder, he
thought he might have heard Zayn mention Harry’s name but the thought faded as soon as Stacy
turned towards him.

“How about a water, Lou?” She asked with a knowing wink.

Louis rolled his eyes, “A water and a whiskey sour.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” She called as she turned towards the bottles of liquor. The edges of
Louis’ vision blurred slightly so he climbed into the chair.

“Hello.” A voice murmured near his ear.

Louis flinched in surprise and looked up quickly, a dark haired man stood with his elbow and hip
braced against the bar, his dark eyes roaming over Louis’ face in acute interest.

Louis pursed his lips in a somewhat-smile, “Hello.”

“What’s your name?”

Louis licked his lip as he looked to his table, Niall was talking to Liam and Zayn, his hands flying
about wildly and his face red in excitement. Zayn had his face pressed into Liam’s shoulder as he
laughed and his best friend was looking down at the agent happily.

Louis looked back to the man hesitantly, “Louis.”

The man nodded slowly, a smirk twisting his lips, “Can I buy you a drink, Louis?”

“Oh, I actually just ordered one.”

The man pulled out the chair beside him and sat down, facing him and spreading his legs slightly
as he shifted closer. Louis looked down at Clifford who was watching the man.

“I’m Adrian.” he said with a toothy smile and extended his hand, Louis took it after a beat. His
inhibitions blurred along with his senses after a few too many shots. Stacy appeared then with his
drink and his water, she shot the man a look, asking if he’d like anything.

“I’ll have what he’s having.” Adrian said easily and laid his arm on the table, Louis got the distinct
impression he was being boxed in. “Cute dog.”
Louis smiled and patted Clifford’s head, “Thanks.”

The man twisted his lips and Louis bit on his straw to hide his smile, he could sense the man’s
frustration at Louis not being more talkative.

“So what do you do?”

“I’m a novelist.” He shrugged easily.

“Oh, yeah? Anything I might’ve heard about?” Adrian asked.

Louis hummed, the picture of contemplative innocence before shaking his head, “Probably not.”

The man huffed, taking his drink from Stacy without a glance and sipping it, “You gonna ask
about me at all?” His tone was annoyed.

Louis tilted his head side to side, as if considering, “Nope.” He answered at last and nibbled on his
straw as he looked around the bar.

Adrian’s eyebrows pulled together in disbelief, “Bit rude not to make conversation.”

Louis shifted in his seat so that there was more space between them, “Bit rude to assume someone
wanted to make conversation.” He shrugged.

“Oh…so you’re, like, a tease?”

It was Louis’ turn to frown in disbelief as the man smirked, “I - what?”

“I mean, you’re wearing really tight pants, you’re obviously looking to pull. So if this is, like, your
angle I can play along?” He took a long sip of his drink and set it down with a click.

“You’ve lost me, mate.” Louis chuckled, his head was definitely spinning now and he really just
wanted to get back to his friends, “Think I’m gonna head back to my table.”

When he turned in his seat, Adrian’s hand landed on his thigh, his grip firm, “Now hang on, I said
I’d play.”

“There’s no game?”

Clifford whined slightly, and Louis looked down, wondering if the dog was signalling him.
Clifford wasn’t looking at him though, he was looking behind him.

“Everything okay over here?”

That fucking rumbling voice. Louis twisted in his seat to face Harry, a glare already forming. Harry
was looking at Adrian though, his eyebrow cocked. Three fucking days later, and he still hadn’t
lost the audacity .

“You gonna flash him your gun too?” Louis asked, biting at his straw as he looked between the
men.

Adrian’s eyebrows rose and then pulled together, “Gun?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Think it’s time to get you home, where’s Booth?” He asked as he leaned
down to gather Clifford’s leash.
Louis sighed, swinging his legs petulantly but refusing to move, “Gave him the night off.”

Harry’s hand stilled from where he’d been winding the leash, he looked to Louis slowly, “Come
again?”

Adrian had slowly stood up and was now sidling away, likely trying to make a stealthy exit, Louis
watched him in amusement as he answered Harry, “Told him I’d be meeting with Zayn and Niall.”

“You can’t just dismiss your protection detail.” Harry growled.

When Louis swung his gaze back to him the agent was glaring, a film scene flashed through his
head at that moment. Something about a president’s daughter dancing on a bar and her security-
boyfriend dragging her down and throwing her over his shoulder, did he smack her arse?

Wouldn’t mind having my arse smacked, Louis giggled at the thought.

“What was that?” Harry asked, his eyes widening slightly as they darted between Louis’ own.

Louis blinked, fuck, had he said that out loud? Harry was still looking at him, something between
disbelief and amusement warring over his features.

“That guy was an arse, should’ve smacked him.” Louis said, hopping off of the seat and averting
his eyes. He stumbled, gripping the bar to steady himself, as Harry’s hand wrapped around his
elbow.

“How much have you had to drink?”

Louis looked up into his eyes, and suddenly he could recall the last three days of silence, like a
title-sequence of loneliness, “Not enough,” He muttered as he shrugged him off. “What are you
doing here?”

“Called Zayn about the case and he said he was here with you and Niall.” He said as he pushed
Louis’ glass of water towards him. He eyed it distastefully but shrugged and sipped at it.

“So you decided to swing by, and what? Come over and interrupt Anthony and I?”

“Adrian.” Harry said, a smirk twisting his lips.

Louis frowned, “Pretty sure it was Anthony.”

“I came over to talk to Zayn.”

Louis gave him an expectant look and cocked his hip, “So go talk with him?”

Harry tilted his head to the side, watching him as he downed his water, “Already did.”

“Good for you.” Louis muttered, slamming his empty glass on the bar and taking Clifford’s leash
from Harry’s hand, “Well, this has been…” He narrowed his eyes at Harry, giving him a sassy
once-over before pulling a ‘meh’ face. He spun on his heel and headed towards their table, his
steps slightly uneven, it felt as if the room was slightly tilted. It reminded him of when he’d paced
the hull of the cargo ship.

Harry huffed behind him, the sound long-suffering before he followed. Louis pretended not to
notice when the agent placed a steadying hand on his hip.

When they got to the table everyone looked to them, Louis glared at Zayn who sent him an
apologetic pout.

“How much do I owe you for his tab?” Harry asked Liam.

Liam raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Oh, uh, don’t worry about. I’ll cover it.”

“I’ve got it,” Harry said, handing the bartender his card, his other hand still on Louis’ hip - it erred
on the side of possessive.

When Liam got up and headed to the bar, Louis bristled.

“I can pay for my own drinks.”

“I know you can, hotshot. It’s time to call it a night though, and I’m not in the mood for more
theatrics.” He muttered back.

Niall and Zayn were shooting glances between them and Louis crossed his arms, if the movement
happened to shift his body closer to Harry’s then it was purely coincidental. Clifford let out a yawn
that pacified his mood slightly, it was later than he’d planned to stay out. He snuck a glance up at
Harry to find the agent already watching him, a slight smirk playing over his lips. Louis pretended
not to notice that either.

When the SUV pulled up to the house, Louis was feeling only a golden-hued form of tipsy, his skin
felt warm and his mind felt fuzzy. It was a delicious combination, it also didn’t hurt that his senses
were filled with everything Harry. His coconut scent washed over him, a light cologne teasing his
nose, and every now and then Harry’s knuckles would graze his knee as he shifted gears. It was a
sensory-overload of the best kind.

He still swung his gaze out over the dark forest, and for a moment, it was sobering to recall his run
from three days ago. Had it been a man? The longer that time went on the more he became unsure
of what he’d seen. It could’ve just been his overactive imagination, and the stress from the past
week and a half that had played a role. Still, he felt his pulse spiking at the realisation that he was
well-beyond tipsy, and very much unable to defend himself. He swallowed, his mouth feeling dry
as he looked up at the house.

He hadn’t realised Clifford was whining until Harry’s hand settled on his knee and he jumped,
“Lou?” He asked curiously, following Louis’ eyes to the house. “Everything okay?”

Louis looked back to the forest, did it look darker? He buried his hands in Clifford’s fur, trying to
ground himself, suddenly he really didn’t want to get out of the car.

“Are you…is it a sense thing again?” Harry was watching him carefully now, he’d shifted in his
seat and was facing him, his arm braced on the back of Louis’ seat.

“A-are you going to stay?” Louis asked.

Harry’s eyes shuttered slightly, “I’ll be out here.”

Louis shook his head quickly, and Clifford whined louder. Harry’s eyes flew to the dog and then
back to Louis’ face, his hand tightening slightly on his knee.

“Please don’t.”
Harry sighed, “I have to stay, I can’t leave you -”

“I meant outside, stay inside.” Louis met Harry’s eyes, held them.

Harry frowned again, “What’s going on?”

He looked away, glancing around again, “Let’s just get inside.”

The agent was still frowning when he pulled away and got out of the car, Louis hurried to follow,
his hand scrambling over the door handle uselessly. Harry opened the door, and helped him down
from the car, bracing a steadying hand on his waist. He locked up once Clifford had joined them
and guided the pair to the door where Louis disarmed his alarm using his phone before they
reached the porch.

The need to get inside as quickly as possible felt overwhelming. When Harry opened the door,
Louis all but shoved him inside before slamming the dead-bolts shut and arming his alarms once
more at the keypad.

“Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” Harry asked him, his eyes flying around the room.

Louis stumbled towards the kitchen, he needed water to clear his mind, he decidedly no longer
liked alcohol. When he looked up from his fridge after he’d grabbed a bottle, Harry was leaning
against the door jamb with his arms crossed, his eyes slightly narrowed as he watched him. Louis
pulled out Clifford’s bowl and filled it, the dog thanked him by acting like he hadn’t been fed in
days.

“What?” Louis muttered after he’d drunk half the bottle, when Harry continued to watch him in
silence.

“You’re acting…off.”

Louis huffed, “Is that your professional Special-Agent assessment talking?”

“Fuck off.” Harry said with an eye roll.

“You fuck off.” Louis snapped back, slamming the cupboard door shut and making Clifford jump,
“Tea or coffee?”

“I can leave if you’d prefer?” Harry growled, “Tea, please.” He said, softer.

They both ignored the empty threats.

Louis filled the kettle and placed it on the stove to boil, twisting his sleeves around his fists, his
eyes glued on the window and the forest beyond. The branches were swaying in the light breeze,
casting elongated shadows below the bright moon. It looked like arms, reaching out towards the
house and withdrawing once more. His ears were ringing, either from the loud music in the pub or
from the alcohol swimming in his veins. His jaw ached from repeatedly clenching his jaw, and his
skin still felt too warm.

“Lou?” Harry murmured, he was closer now, Louis could see his curious eyes tracing over his
profile out of the corner of his eye.

Louis swallowed thickly, tugging harder at his sleeves, when his eyes pickled suddenly with tears,
he looked down at the mugs. When the kettle started whistling, Harry moved past Louis to switch
it off, brushing by him closer than what was necessary, his arm grazing his lower back. He
returned and filled their mugs, then set the kettle back on the stove. Louis watched the steam curl,
tendrils reached towards his face, warming his cheeks. The herbal smell felt nostalgic, and settled
something in his core.

He released a shaky breath as he curled his fingers around the mug, Harry made a sound in the back
of his throat and quickly pulled his hand away, checking the pads of his fingers.

“You’ll burn yourself.” He muttered. Louis watched as Harry’s lashes fluttered over his cheeks as
he studied his hand. When Harry’s eyes flicked back up to his own, he realised how close they
were standing and made to step back, but Harry tightened his grip on his hand, “Talk to me.”

Louis bit his lip and slowly shook his head.

Harry frowned, something very near concern taking over his features, “So there is something?” He
ducked his head slightly to catch Louis’ gaze when he tried to look down.

When Louis remained quiet and looked to the forest again, Harry followed his eye-line then looked
back to his face, “Booth said you haven’t gone for a run in three days, is it something to do with
that?”

Fucking hell.

He grit his teeth, “Maybe if you’d been here you wouldn’t need to ask.” He said, pulling his hand
from Harry’s and turning to his tea.

Harry was quiet for a moment as Louis turned towards the fridge to grab his milk. He could feel
the agent watching him as he went about the task.

“Something happened in the forest.”

Louis ignored him as he blew over his tea and leaned against the counter, he watched Clifford as
the dog licked out his bowl.

“Booth didn’t mention anything.”

Louis looked up quickly, then away, shit .

He could practically hear it when Harry clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding, “Unless you went for
a run without him, then he wouldn’t’ve reason to suspect anything.”

He bit his lip, his shoulders curling inwards on instinct. A moment later Harry was in front of him,
he pulled the cup from Louis’ hands and set it down before bracing his hands against the counter
on either side of him, boxing him in and forcing him to meet his eyes.

He looked murderous, his green eyes swirling with molten fury, “What happened.”

“It was nothing, I was distracted and ran further than I meant to. Clifford got spooked again, that’s
it.” He said evenly, his own eyes hard and challenging.

“Louis.” He warned.

Louis faltered slightly, his eyes trailing over Harry’s face, when they settled on Harry’s lips he
sighed, “It was me…” He whispered, admitting defeat, “ I got spooked.” He looked back up into
Harry’s eyes.

Green irises flicked between his own, shifting, then softening, “There’s nothing wrong with being
afraid.”

Louis' breath stuttered as he inhaled, his eyes pricked once more, “I…” He swallowed hard, “I am.
I’m so scared, Harry. All the time, I c-can’t -” he choked out, the oxygen in his lungs growing
thinner.

Harry’s arms circled around his body, drawing him in. Louis buried his face into his neck, his
shoulder’s trembled as the agent’s large hand stroked up and down his back. When he realised
Harry’s chest was rumbling, he shifted his head slightly, only to hear soft murmurs falling from his
lips.

“You’re okay, it’s going to be okay,” He repeated.

He wasn’t sure how he’d found himself back here. Back in Harry’s arms once more, but right now,
it didn’t matter. His arms were solid and warm, his voice soothing and his large hands all-
encompassing. Louis settled into his chest, his breaths calming as he nuzzled closer. Every now
and then Harry’s hand would slightly catch on his shirt as they passed, his fingers grazing over the
exposed skin on Louis’ lower back, making it prickle.

He wasn’t sure if it was still the remnants of alcohol swirling through his veins, or the
overwhelming sense of comfort he felt in that moment that emboldened him, but slowly Louis
turned his head and grazed his lips over Harry’s neck.

The hand on his back froze, and so did Louis.

He felt heat flood his cheeks as he pulled back slowly, Harry’s eyes were already on him when he
looked up. Louis swallowed, parting his lips on a breath as he looked between the agent’s eyes and
lips, which were just an inch from his own. He wondered if he’d regret it, if it would be the biggest
mistake of his life, but in that moment he didn’t care - he just needed to know.

Louis shifted forward slightly, then paused, waiting. Harry’s eyes flew over his face, uncertainty
lacing them.

“Lou…” He breathed.

A second later Louis closed the distance, his lips brushing softly against Harry’s own. They were
soft, so soft and full and yet firm. He hummed in the back of his throat as he stepped closer, kissing
Harry’s mouth again, encouraging him to respond.

Harry remained still a moment longer before his hand cupped Louis’ jaw and tilted his face to the
side, claiming his lips. His lashes fluttered in surprise at the urgency, the way the kiss went from
delicate and hesitant to decidedly not-so. Harry’s lips moved against his own, his other arm banded
around Louis’ waist to draw him closer to his chest. Louis sighed into it, curling his fingers into
Harry’s hair. When he tugged lightly, the agent groaned, biting onto Louis’ bottom lip. The second
he gasped, Harry’s tongue swept in, licking into his mouth.

Louis titled his head back as he moaned softly, their tongues coaxing each other. God, Harry tasted
as good as he smelled. Harry’s fist tightened on his shirt, before sliding to his lower back. As if to
urge the agent along, Louis stepped onto his tiptoes, bracing himself against him and tugging his
head to the side by his hair to deepen the kiss, to let his tongue clash with Harry’s own more
firmly.

Harry’s hand slid down to his arse, squeezing him firmly, the tips of his finger’s digging into the
crease.
 “Harry,” Louis moaned as he broke away, Harry’s lips trailed down his neck, sucking wet kisses
into his throat as he backed Louis into the counter.

Harry’s hand curled around his thigh and then Louis was being lifted onto the counter, he made a
noise of surprise just as Harry claimed his lips again, flicking his tongue over his lip ring before
licking into his mouth without hesitation. Louis wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist, and arched
his back to line them up, he moaned louder when Harry rolled his hips, they were both already
hard. The delicious bit of friction made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He dragged his hands
from the agent’s hair down his chest, pinching at a pebbled nipple over the white button down.
Harry gasped into his mouth, his hands tightening on Louis’ hips.

The kiss was heated and perfect as their bodies moved together, their hands sliding over each other
in a frenzy, desperate to explore every curve and muscle. It was because of that frenzy, that Louis’
elbow drew back and knocked firmly into his cup of tea, spilling its contents over the counter.
They broke apart, their lips smacking loudly in the quiet kitchen as they turned towards the sound.

Louis hummed, “Oops.” He giggled, turning back to Harry. His smile froze on his face when he
saw the agents’ hand over his mouth, as if in shock.

Louis frowned, “Everything okay?”

Harry drew back, his hand falling from Louis’ body, leaving his skin cold, “Fuck.” He muttered,
dragging his hands through his hair and then over his face.

Louis bit at his lip, which was now swollen and likely pink as he waited for Harry to meet his eyes,
he fidgeted slightly with his fingers, feeling suddenly nervous, “Uhm, I…sorry -”

Harry shook his head, his eyes still on the floor between them, carefully Louis slid down from the
counter, feeling a lot more awkward being perched there and adjusted himself discreetly.

“No, it’s not…” He jerked his head, as if shaking off a thought, “It’s just late, you should get some
sleep.” He said at last.

Louis hesitated a moment longer, “O-okay?” He continued to watch Harry, feeling his eyebrows
twitching together to try make sense of the reaction. Had he not…was it not good? Harry had been
hard though, or was that a normal reaction to someone throwing themselves at you? He’d kissed
him back though. It wasn’t like it was one-sided, was it?

He still wouldn’t meet Louis’ inquisitive gaze.

“I’ll clean this up, you go ahead.”

Louis swallowed, tucking his fingers into his sleeves, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, I’ll see you in the morning.” Harry looked up then, and sent him a soft
smile, a hint of a dimple appearing.

He felt something in his chest settle as his heart swelled in his chest and couldn’t help grinning
back shyly, “Okay, yeah. Uhm,” His cheeks prickled with heat and he had to fight the urge not to
giggle under his breath, “Right, see you in the morning, H.”

He all but floated to his room, trusting that Harry would set the interior alarms.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter End Notes

Me? Having a kitchen-counter kink? Never!

Thank you for all the love!

Cute as a button, every single one of you x

 Harry
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

There's one way out and no way in

Back to the beginning

There's one way back to home again

To where I feel forgiven

What is this I feel? Why is it so real?

Human, Civil Twilight

Harry snuck out early the next morning, he’d waited just long enough for Booth to arrive before
he’d slipped out quietly, making sure not to wake Louis. If that made him a coward, then so be it.

He’d fucked up. Royally.

Louis had been drunk and vulnerable, and he’d pawed at him like some horny teenager. He’d been
about a second away from dragging Louis into his arms and carrying him to bed. He thought only
of coaxing Louis open, of making him moan as he pushed into his wet heat. God, he’d wanted to
fuck Louis so badly, he hadn’t even stopped to think about the consequences, about what would
happen the very next day when they’d wake up to one another. The awkward conversation that
would likely follow.

He hadn’t been thinking at all. It was official, his mind was dead and buried in a cemetery of
insanity. Yet he still felt the prickle of guilt as he drove home to get ready for work. The way Louis
had looked at him, so softly, a sparkle of hope in his eyes. It made nausea roll in his gut. Hadn’t he
hurt the kid enough? Jesus, he felt vile. How could Louis even want him after everything - he was
obviously drunk, and not in his right mind.

Harry had taken advantage.

The thought made him sick to his very core. He’d hurt the one person he only ever wanted to
protect.

L: (07:02) I made you some coffee, didn’t want to wake you :) x

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his skin prickling with guilt, he’d left his bedroom door shut. No, not
his. The guest room’s door . Louis must not have realised he was gone yet. He swallowed hard as
he drove to the office, he needed to bury himself under a large pile of work as soon as possible.
Once he got to the office, he set about getting his computer booted up and arranging his files.
Anything to delay checking his phone, which had vibrated once again when he’d stepped into the
building. He sighed when he realised he had nothing more to do but wait for his log-in screen.

He checked his phone.

L: (07:34) Booth said you’d left for work earlier…Could I swing by, maybe? We could talk?

Harry bit his lip as he thumbed a text to Booth, asking him not to let Louis leave the house, that the
office was too busy. He felt regret swarm his chest, his heart aching. God, he hated himself.

Just then a knock sounded at his door, pulling him from his self-loathing thoughts.

Zayn opened the door, and spotting Harry at his desk, stepped inside and shut it firmly behind
himself. His eyes were hard as he sat down across from him. Harry swallowed as he clicked
through his emails, stalling.

“Want to tell me why you snuck in here looking all guilty?”

Harry’s fingers stilled over his keyboard, he weighed up his options as he turned to the profiler,
“Depends…will you be on my side, as your best mate?”

Zayn regarded him, “As your best mate, I’ll be honest instead, how’s that?”

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, muttering his offence under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said…I kissed Louis last night.” He met Zayn’s eyes, he was frowning but didn’t look surprised
by the confession.

“Okay…and you feel guilty because?”

Harry licked his lips, his heart twisting painfully, “Well, he was drunk and vulnerable -”

“He’d been sobering up and barely finished his last drink by the time you left, the kid might be
vulnerable but he’s strong as fuck too, what else.” Zayn said dismissively, his eyes still glued to
Harry’s face.

“I…might’ve snuck out this morning.”

At that Zayn sucked in a sharp breath, he hummed, “As an objective profiler I’ll tell you that for
someone who’s been abandoned that many times by the people closest to him, it makes him
exceptionally brave for still wanting to offer a part of himself to someone. As your best mate, I’ll
say that you’ve just gone and thrown that in his face, like everyone else.”

Harry flinched, swallowing hard when he felt a lump form in his throat, “I…I can’t give him what
he wants, Z. He deserves better.”

“So be better.” Zayn snapped, “You’ve been an utter shit since the kid came into our lives and yet
he still wants you. Does that not tell you anything?”

“It’s not about him though, it’s about me. I’m not good enough for him, he’s soft and - and kind
and genuine -”

“And he brings all those qualities out in you too.”

Harry shook his head quickly, “I’m not…soft, or kind or -”

“If that’s true then why did you remind Niall to invite him out with us?” Zayn asked, his eyes
searing into Harry’s own.

Harry clenched his jaw, “That meant nothing.”

“It meant something, Harry. It means you can be caring -”

“I’m too cynical, I still struggle with his fucking gift fo christ’s sake!” He exploded.

Zayn pursed his lips for a moment as he struggled to control his breathing, his eyes heavy as they
flicked about the room before settling on him once more, “Did you ever read his autobiography?”

The guilt intensified, “No.” He muttered.

Zayn scoffed, “Maybe you’re right, maybe he does deserve better. I want you to think about that
Harry, I want you to think about Louis with another man, a man who isn’t you. Sit on that while
you wallow in your self pity.” He said as he stood.

Harry felt a swell of anger burst in his chest at the thought of someone else with Louis, in his
home, with Clifford. He swung his heated eyes up to Zayn’s own which were knowing and smug.

“So much for being my mate on this.”

Zayn clenched his jaw, “You’re a right, prick. You’re also incredibly insecure for God knows what
reason. I’m your best friend because I look past the bullshit, and so does Louis. One day, when you
decide to lower your walls, I hope it’s not too late.” He grabbed his bag, which Harry had only just
noticed, “In the meantime, educate yourself.” He slammed down a copy of Louis’ book on the desk
then spun on his heel and left, shutting the door calmly behind himself.

Harry eyed the book, and sighed as he dropped a hand on it, dragging it closer.

He thumbed through Louis’ text messages that night with his heart in his throat, and really wished
he had the strength to respond.

L: (10:52) I’ve never heard silence quite this loud lol…

L: (11:20) That was a Taylor Swift lyric, not like me being pushy or whatever

L: (14:08) Booth said I couldn’t come to the office…

L: (14:15) Which is fine! I figured you’d be busy, it’s just that Zayn said you were only filing
reports today?

L: (18:47) Can we talk?

L: (19:20) I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume you’d prefer pretending last night didn’t
happen…I get it, but could we maybe just, like, talk about it at least?

L: (21:14) A response would be great. Glad to know you were able to handle this all so maturely
by leaving me on read.

L: (22:39) Fuck you, Harry.

He turned his phone off and grabbed Louis’ book, he’d have to face him eventually. He just
couldn’t help feeling like he’d made the biggest mistake of his life, and that there was no longer a
way to repair the damage.

[Louis talks with us about the escape that changed his life]

We’re sitting in a cosy living room, it’s a beautiful summer day. The evening light spills into the
room through the large floor-to-ceiling windows that face the forest below Mount Hood. Louis
Tomlinson is curled up on his plush white couch, petting his service-dog, Clifford, as he looks out
at the view. His eyes are slightly troubled, his knuckles covered by his sweater sleeves.

[IV] Once the Angel Killer had strapped you down to the table, did you know what was about to
happen?

Louis is clearly affected by the question, but he bravely pushes on.

[LT] I’d heard of the murders, but no one in that situation ever thinks ‘I’ll be one of them’ you
know? Those victims…they’re really just strangers' faces on posters and signs, in newspapers.
We’re too disconnected and desensitised as a society to be truly touched by such a thing, until it’s
one of us.

[IV] It must’ve been hard to come to that realisation.

[LT] Not really…it was - sorry- (LT fidgets slightly and his hands are now shaking) It felt surreal,
yet at the same time it was my reality now, you know? My senses were going haywire with ways to
remove myself from the situation.

[IV] And when you speak of your senses…?

[LT] The media likes to call me a clairvoyant, which is fair, I don’t really have a name for it. I just
get a read on people, or places. It feels like a strong sense of intuition, but you can’t ignore it - if
that makes sense?

[IV] Of course! So your senses were guiding you?

[LT] Yeah, I was laid out on my tummy and blindfolded, so I couldn’t see around me. My shirt was
torn open and then…(LT stutters for a moment before closing his eyes to settle his nerves, his dog
is signalling him)...Sorry.

[IV] Take your time.

[LT] So my shirt was torn open, and…and then the knife - a scalpel - was used to-to cut the skin on
my back. At this point my adrenaline had kicked in, I could feel the pain - but I felt the wetness of
my blood more, I guess. I couldn’t focus on all these sensations while my mind was screaming at
me to act.

[IV] So you were aware of your surroundings even though you couldn’t physically see?

[LT] I could feel where everything in the room was placed and what the items were, yes. I could
sense what the Angel Killer was feeling too, but I only really allowed myself to focus on him during
my therapy. At that moment, when he drew away to - to review his handiwork, I guess, I knew it
was then that I had to move.
[IV] Could you describe it to us?

[LT] I can try…It was a split second decision, really. It was as he was stepping back, that I knew
he’d be at his most unbalanced. The table I was on wasn’t secured to the ground, it shifted when he
put weight on it as he worked, so I just kind of - threw myself towards him.

[IV] You essentially tipped the table?

[LT] Yeah, exactly. So we both went down, and I knew he’d dropped the scalpel. I’d kind of ended
up under the table and on my side, so the blade had slid near my elbow. At this point it gets
vaguely blurry, I only recall shimmying as quickly as I could - which actually made the blindfold
slip down from my eyes - I got a hold of the blade and stabbed upwards, managed to cut myself (LT
shows off a small scar on his wrist) but the bindings were some kind of cloth? It tore easily
because it was strained quite tightly from my weight against it.

[IV] What was the Angel Killer doing during this time?

[LT] If I’m honest, I don’t really remember. He’d fallen into his tools, there was blood near him
and he was yelling - but I was focused on getting me legs free.

[IV] Once you got your legs loose did you just run straight for the door?

[LT] I knew it was locked, so I ran straight for a ladder near the back of the room that led to
scaffolding. At that point the adrenaline was wearing off but I knew I just had to keep climbing. I
thought I heard someone follow, but I reached a, like, glassless window?…It was pretty high up,
but I didn’t really think I had a choice, you know?

[IV] Were you aware at the time that you’d jumped from a height of about 45 feet?

[LT] Uh…no. Though the impact had kind of given me a hint that I’d been lucky to’ve survived it.

[IV] You’d refractured an ankle you’d previously broken.

[LT] Yeah, funny enough I was there, I do remember that. (LT is being sarcastic, his eyes
shimmering with amusement.)

[IV] We’re glad you’re in a place where you can make light of it. (Interviewers laugh along) So
after the landing, you ran into the forest on your broken ankle?

[LT] I kept running and didn’t stop until I could no longer think, I just knew I was safe when I felt
the sun on my face the next day.

[IV] Thank you for sharing your experience with us, it must’ve been quite the ordeal.

Harry shut the book, his heartbeat pulsed loudly in his ears as he rolled onto his back in bed. It was
near two am, and he knew he had to get some sleep. He just couldn’t seem to stop himself from
devouring any bit of information into Louis’ past as he could get. The interview had been an
excerpt that Louis had added to his book, it had started with his past, his coming out and his life on
the street. He’d then spoken about a relationship with a man that had thrown him out once more
before he’d gotten on the ship. How he’d come into the gang, the friends he’d made, and then lost.

It all weighed too heavily on Harry's heart, just how much loss did Louis have to endure? Yet he
was still kind, still giving. He still put his all into a charity to protect young children from a similar
fate. He’d then found his feet, only to nearly become the next victim in a string of murders.
It made Harry want to get into his car and drive to Louis’ home in the woods. He wanted to wrap
himself around the boy and shield him from any more hurt, even the thought of more harm
befalling him had tears springing to his eyes. He twisted his fists into his sheets and squeezed his
eyes shut tightly. He’d been so hard on Louis since day one. Had treated him with suspicion and
hostility, had made light of his trauma.

Then…then he’d done something even more despicable. He’d kissed Louis. He was no better than
all of the men that had made promises to the kid and then abandoned him.

He just didn’t know how to make any of it right.

He also still believed that Louis deserved the world, and Harry’s wasn’t good enough of an
offering. It was too small, too clouded by prejudice and cynicism and narrow-mindedness. He
knew his insecurities arose from his own father abandoning him and his mother and sister at a
young age. That his father had wanted bigger, better and that they simply weren’t enough. All
Harry wanted to be was enough .

He had a long way to go, though.

It was obvious Zayn was avoiding him. At first he’d assumed it was because of their fall-out,
which he knew he deserved, Louis had gotten to his best mate - and he was actually fine with that.
The thought that Zayn and Niall had become loyal to Louis in such a short amount of time only
made him love them more, and solidified the faith he had instilled in his friends long ago.

It did, however, still impact him negatively when the two people closest to him were ducking him
at every chance they got. Zayn hadn’t bothered to stop when they’d crossed paths in the hallway,
and Niall had muttered an excuse about gathering the profiles from the members of the gang that
the police had managed to apprehend. He did say he’d stop by Harry’s office later though, which
was something.

What Harry hadn’t expected was to find his office door unlocked, he’d paused outside the door,
expecting Louis. He still wasn’t sure how to face him and mostly, he was terrified that the second
he saw the man he’d only try to kiss him again - which was likely not what Louis would want,
given his colossal fuck-up. So once he’d steeled himself and pushed the door open, his heart
clambering away, it all went to shit. To hell in a handbasket, really.

Charles turned towards him, his posture rigid and a frown permanently etched into his tired, old
face.

Harry swallowed, and turned from him to shut the door. He grit his teeth and stole a second before
facing the man once more and plastering a smile on his face.

“Agent Charles.” Harry greeted, walking towards the man and extending his hand.

The agent’s eyes were dark as they regarded him, his grip firm as they shook. For the first time
since meeting the man, Harry felt disgust at the touch. A lick of betrayal coiling around his heart.
This man had hurt his boy. Not his boy. Louis wasn’t his anything, but regardless of his own
mistakes, Charles had still inflicted pain on someone who didn't deserve it. Someone who was
kind, soft and so beautiful.

Harry could feel his own eyes harden as he circled his desk and settled at his chair, stapling his
fingers. Charles turned towards their whiteboard, his emotionless, weary eyes flickering over the
crime scene photos.

“How have you been?” Harry asked, his tone steady, though inside his pride curdled like spoiled
milk.

Charles huffed, “Busy, but that comes with the territory when working for the Attorney General.”

Of course, Harry thought bitterly, the man would take any opportunity to brag about his new cosy
office in Washington.

Harry merely hummed.

“I hear you’ve been busy, yourself.” Here it comes, Harry braced himself, “inviting suspects to
assist with cases, thought I taught you better.” He scoffed and shook his head.

“Louis’ been cleared.”

Charles sat down across from him, his back straight, a real military brat. His salt and pepper hair
coiffed neatly, his pressed suit and his shiny shoes that Harry used to admire now looked rather
dull under the fluorescent office lights. “ Louis , is it?” His eyes ran over Harry, “I don’t suppose
you’ve bought into his horseshit?”

“Careful,” Harry warned.

Charles’ eyes widened infinitesimally, “He’s gotten to you too.”

Harry averted his eyes, glancing out at the city through the window, “He’s been an asset to this
case, and helped us greatly.”

“You’ve grown soft in my absence.”

Harry shrugged easily, “If solving a case by using whatever means necessary makes me soft then
so be it.”

“Suppose it doesn’t hurt that the boy is attractive. He’s used his wiles before, or his body, to get
what he wants.” Charles' eyes bored into him.

Harry clenched his fist under the desk, “Louis did what he had to do to survive years ago .”

Charles hummed, “And did he do so for you?”

Harry baulked, “What?”

“Did he offer to spread his legs so you’d let him on the case.”

“Jesus christ, are you out of your mind?” Harry stared in disbelief, fury bubbling in his veins.

Charles shrugged as he raised his palms, “You’re awfully defensive, just curious if you’ve fucked
him.”

“Stop it.” Harry growled.

When the agent laughed, Harry flinched. “Come now, Styles. What other purpose would there be
for you to keep that whiny twink around.”

“Charles,” Harry bit out, “I swear to God, if you don’t stop talking I’ll forget that you were my
mentor and hit you.”

“Well where is he then, if he’s so useful to your case?” Charles challenged.

Thankfully Harry was saved from responding when a knock sounded at his door and a second later,
it opened. Niall and Zayn hurried in, they nodded to Charles and addressed Harry directly. The
older man scowled.

“We got the files, and I think you were right.” Niall said excitedly, his eyes wide as he shook the
files in his hands.

“Let’s see it,” Harry said as he rose and circled the desk. Niall and Zayn whipped out the headshots
from the manila folders, one included Louis and Liam’s.

“Most of the nine who were apprehended in the gang are in prison, besides Liam and Louis,
obviously.” Zayn added as he gathered the photos and spread them on the desk, “the first victim
looks like Liam, the other four…” He raised the selected four and walked to the board, pinning
them up below the other victims.

“They’re nearly identical,” Harry murmured as he tilted his head and studied them.

“We think the killer tried to follow his original pattern of using substitutes, but it was different with
Louis.” Niall drew a deep breath, “One, because he was the first member of the gang to turn on
them, and second, because he got away.”

Harry bit at his lip, “What is it about this gang that infuriated the killer?”

“Maybe because they owned the largest drug cartel at the time? That would’ve caused an
imbalance in the Portland community.” Zayn offered.

Charles scoffed, “There was no imbalance, Portlanders scoffed down Tyr and Loki like it was a
maple bacon bar.”

The three froze as they slowly turned to Charles.

“What did you just say?” Harry breathed, his eyes widening.

The older man frowned, “That they ingested those drugs like candy?”

Niall shook his head quickly, “The names of the drugs, what were they called?”

Charles looked from Zayn to Niall and then to Harry, “They were fentanyl pills laced with cocaine.
The cartel called the different variations Tyr and Loki.”

“ Jesus ,” Zayn breathed, “The community, it was the cartel, Harry - The Angel Killer was a part of
the gang.”

“Also the IT knowledge…what if he was their hacker?” Niall asked.

“Hang on a minute, the gang was disbanded and arrested.” Charles said.

Harry hummed, “Unless one of them pleaded insanity during trial.”

Zayn’s eyes lit up, “We can review the case and see who was sent where.”

“Guys,” Niall interrupted, “It just doesn’t fit. He’d still be incarcerated then, they wouldn’t’ve only
kept him for six months.”

Harry dragged his hand through his hair, “Fuck, we’ll need to bring Louis and Liam in, see if they
remember a hacker in the gang.”

Silence greeted him. When he looked up, Niall and Zayn were exchanging hesitant glances, Zayn’s
was warning whereas Niall was biting his lip guiltily. Something about the interaction had Harry’s
skin prickling.

“Niall, why don’t you give Booth a call while Zayn and I go fetch Liam?”

Again he was met with silence, his stomach pinched uncomfortably when the agents wouldn’t meet
his eyes. Charles looked just as lost as Harry felt.

“Niall?” Harry said, turning towards the blonde, knowing that whatever was going on he’d be the
first to crack.

When Niall struggled to meet Harry’s eyes he clenched his jaw and pulled his phone from his
pocket, “Fine, I’ll call Booth and you two go.”

“Harry,” Zayn said softly.

The sound of his voice, the hesitant tone, had his skin crawling as he paused and looked up at his
best friend.

“Louis’ not with Booth.”

Harry felt anxiety surge through his chest, his breath catching in his lungs as he stared Zayn down.
He recalled how Niall and Zayn had avoided him all day, how he’d thought it was because of what
he’d done, but he saw it for what it was now. They’d been hiding something.

“What did you do?” He murmured, his voice hard as steel.

Zayn set his shoulders, “Louis agreed to meet with Richards’, he’s there now -”

Harry spun away from him, grabbing his coat and keys.

“He’s probably already there, Haz, there’s no point -”

“Shut the fuck up.” Harry snapped at them.

“We just thought…”

Harry turned his burning eyes on Zayn, “If anything happens to him, we’re done Malik.”

Zayn flinched and Niall’s eyes widened. Thankfully Charles remained silent as he watched the
scene unfold. Harry held his friend’s eyes a moment longer before he stormed out of the office,
slamming the door shut behind him.

Harry had tried to call Louis six times, they all went unanswered. He told himself it was because
Louis was still pissed off with him. That he wasn’t with Richards’ yet. He still drove like a demon,
his sirens blaring as he broke any and all traffic laws. His heart was in his throat as his mind spun
with possibilities. Questioning when Louis had planned this, if he’d done it to spite him because of
what had happened between them. If he was even ready for it. He could see Louis in his mind’s
eye, small and in a pastel jumper, hugging Clifford close as he sat across from Richards’.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white. He prayed to God he made it
there on time.

He brought the car to a screeching halt once he pulled up to the house and hurried out. He could
see Louis’ car parked out front, and the thought honestly pissed him the fuck off because he’d
seriously gone and driven himself. He was hurrying to the door when he spotted movement by the
passenger side door of Louis’ car.

Louis was leaning against it, his face pale and slightly clammy, his trembling fingers twisted
around Clifford’s leash as the dog pawed at his hip.

“Lou,” Harry breathed as he hurried towards him.

Louis’ head snapped up in surprise, his body stilling its erratic movements. Clifford yapped
excitedly at Harry, nudging his head into Harry’s palm as he stepped into their space. He didn’t
think, he just reacted. His arm curled around Louis’ waist, pulling him into his chest as his other
hand settled on Clifford’s head. Louis’ body remained stiff against his own, a beat later he
withdrew.

Harry glanced down and was met with fiery blue, the rage in Louis’ eyes lit a match to his own.

“What are you doing here?” Louis snapped, colour slowly returning to his cheeks, Harry was still
mad though something inside him eased a little at seeing it.

“What are you doing here?” He snapped back.

Louis shoved past him, tugging Clifford along, “I made a promise.”

Harry pulled him back at his elbow, not expecting it when Louis decided to send it straight into his
gut, he choked in surprise but grabbed Louis around his waist when he tried to duck past him
again.

“Get off of me!” Louis yelled.

Harry held fast, “I didn’t authorise this.” He said into Louis’ hair, and God he’d missed his smell,
the cedar, citrus and vanilla wrapped around him.

“You didn’t have to, and stop sniffing me you weirdo.” Louis barked, trying to elbow him again.
Clifford panted happily beside them as he watched.

Harry chuckled against him, not meaning to but an angry Louis still reminded him of a disgruntled
kitten, “Slow down, love. Let’s just -”

“Stop it,” Louis’ voice wobbled slightly and Harry released him instantly as his eyes widened, his
heart plummeting to his stomach. Louis spun on him, his face twisted as his eyes teared slightly,
“Y-you d-don’t get to laugh at me. You c-can’t j-just come here and pretend that you c-care o-or -”

Harry made a sound in the back of his throat as he reached for Louis again, but the man stepped
back, holding the leash up like a barrier. Harry’s heart cracked in two.

“Lou…”

Louis shook his head, blinking his eyes quickly to clear them, though the blue seemed brighter, the
whites glossy and his water-line red. “I won’t let anyone chuck me again.” Louis murmured at last,
“It might’ve taken me a long time but I know my worth now, and - and I don’t deserve that.”

If Harry had thought his heart had cracked in two before, it now lay in splinters at his feet, “I read
your book.” Was what came out of his mouth.

Louis’ large eyes swung up to his face, his eyebrows pinched in disbelief, “W-what?”

Harry cleared his throat, his arms feeling useless as they hung at his sides, his hands itching to
touch the boy, “Your autobiography. I read it.”

Louis rolled his lips and swallowed and Harry could see the wheels turning behind his bright blue
eyes, “Research for the case because you -”

“Because I wanted to know you.” Harry admitted and Louis’ lips parted in surprise, “Zayn gave it
to me, but I read it for that reason.”

“Why?” Louis whispered.

Harry licked his lips, “Figured it was only fair, you know me.”

At that Louis looked away, “I thought I did, but I was wrong.”

“You weren’t, you know me Louis, better than anyone. I just…you scare me.”

Louis’ eyes met his once more, he looked dubious, “I scare - How?”

Harry chuckled, the sound dry and without humour, “Because you make me want what I don't
think I should have.”

Louis’ eyebrows flew up as he looked at him, really looked at him, “You want me.” he breathed.

He knew there was no point in denying it, that Louis had read beyond what his eyes showed, that
he was looking deeper, “It doesn’t change anything. It can’t.”

Louis’ eyes shuttered at that, like twinkling fairy lights that had been dimmed, “I don’t
understand.”

“Yes you do, you read me that very first day, you know what’s underneath the surface. I can’t…”

Louis’ eyes were sad when they met him, but not for himself, for Harry. He clenched his jaw and
looked away, nodding to himself, “I won’t wait for you.”

Harry felt as if the words had robbed him of his breath, like a punch to the solar plexus, the tips of
his fingers felt numb.

“I wouldn’t want you to,” He lied.

Louis swallowed, shifting slightly as he looked down at Clifford, “I need to go in there.” he said at
last.

Harry stepped towards him, “Lou -”

Louis’ eyes met his once more, they were clear and resolute, “I need to, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes flicked back and forth between Louis’, searching for any hesitation, but all he found
was determination. Something very near pride pulsed in his chest alongside his heart. “I can’t let
you do that alone.”

Slowly, Louis nodded. He looked towards the house, his eyes settling on the blue door. He looked
beyond it to the houses in development, their matching blue doors.

“Paint the door blue and call it suburbia.” He muttered under his breath.

The agents hadn’t allowed Clifford into the room.

Louis sat in the metal chair, hiding his trembling fingers in the sleeves of his lilac jumper, he
looked slightly pale again. Harry pulled another chair out beside him, and settled closer to Louis’
side than was likely necessary. They had a few minutes to themselves before Richards’ was to be
brought in, and Louis was using that time to draw deep breaths. When Harry felt a small hand settle
on his thigh, he looked down, and then quickly laced his fingers with Louis’ and squeezed.

Louis’ trembles slowed, his breath turning even as he shifted slightly in his seat to lean against
Harry’s side.

“It’s not too late to change your mind.” Harry murmured to him, “Let me take you home.”

Louis merely shook his head.

When the door clanked, Louis straightened quickly and pulled his hand from Harry’s. Harry looked
up as Richards’ was brought in, though his surprised eyes had already landed on the man beside
him.

“Lovely Louis,” He purred as the agents snapped his cuffs shut over the link on the table.
Richards’ wrapped his hands around the link, tapping his fingers, as he regarded the boy.

Louis swallowed thickly and straightened his back, “I was told you wanted to see me.”

Richards’ eyes flicked to Harry’s, “Your agent must be getting desperate.”

Harry didn’t dare look at Louis, worried that Richards’ would be able to pinpoint the true gravity of
his feelings through his eyes, “How’s the nose?” Harry asked instead, gesturing at the bruises
beneath the man’s eyes.

“You hit like a girl.”

Louis scoffed at that and looked at Harry, “It hurt like a bitch and he cried when they reset it.”

Harry chuckled.

Richards’ lips twisted into a snarl, “Mouthy twat, nothing’s changed I see. Though you’re a lot
braver now ’ve got these.” He said, rattling the cuffs.

“You’ve changed,” Louis allowed, “Not a lot of grooming options in prison?”

“Lou.” Harry warned as Richards’ barked a laugh, his beard trembling at the motion.

“Should’a fucked you up proper when I had the chance.” The man said.

“Glad to see you’ve dropped the pretence of innocence at least, makes my job easier.” Harry said to
pull Richards’ gaze from Louis.

Richards’ shrugged, humming, “We all have our responsibilities.”

Louis was frowning, studying Richards’ warily.

“Why did you want to meet with me?” He asked hesitantly, Harry tried to read Louis’ expression
but he couldn’t quite discern it.

Richards’ licked over his bottom lip as he leered at Louis, Harry felt his body tense, “You really
don’t remember me do you?”

“Hard to remember someone who sneaks up on you from behind and knocks you out.”

Richards’ slammed his cuffs against the link, “We were a family!” He roared, spittle flying into his
beard.

They both froze at that, sharing a quick glance before Louis looked back, “What?”

Harry could thankfully report back that their theory had been correct, though if Richards’ was in
the gang and Louis didn’t remember him, it was unlikely that he’d remember the Angel Killer. This
also meant that the Angel Killer and Richards’ had somehow found a way to get out the night of
the bust.

The man huffed, shaking his head in disappointment, his hands twisted around his cuffs again in
frustration, “You’re breaking my heart, Lovely Louis.”

Louis frowned, his arms tightening around himself, “I didn’t know you before…”

Richards’ chuckled darkly, the sound grew louder until it echoed off of the walls. When it died
down he muttered, “I guess it’s time then,” so softly that Harry had to lean forward to hear him as
Richards’ met his eyes. He frowned at Louis, wondering if he knew what Richards’ meant by that.

Louis’ eyes widened, flicking down to Richards’ wrists, Harry watched him as his eyes slowly
trailed back up to the Richards’ though his were still narrowed on Harry’s profile.

Time froze, and then suddenly, Louis burst from his chair shoving Harry to the side and away from
the table, just as Richards’ hands flew up. Harry landed on his shoulder and twisted just in time to
see Louis’ body jerk where he stood. A spray of something warm and wet hit his face, and he
flinched. Between the space of a blink Richards’ had struck the side of Louis’ face with the back of
his hand, sending his small body flying across the room.

He only had enough time to process what had happened, that Richards’ had managed to pull the
link from the table and that he now held a giant metal spike. Harry whipped out his gun just as
Richards’ raised his arm to strike Louis’ fallen body with it.

He aimed for the man’s chest and fired.

Without fucking hesitating.

He didn’t watch as Richards’ fell, he clambered to his feet and rushed towards Louis, his hands
shaking as he rolled the boy over. Louis groaned slightly and Harry may have keened as he pulled
him to his chest. The door flew open and Harry raised his gun once more and trained it on whoever
it was. The barrel of another gun pointed in his direction, then shifted away quickly. He lowered
his own gun as the agent rushed into the room and checked Richards’ pulse.
“He’s bleeding.” The agent said, looking at Harry, his eyes wide.

“He’s dead.” Harry snapped.

The agent shook his head quickly and pointed, “He’s bleeding.”

Harry’s eyes flew down to Louis, only registering the sticky wetness that had seeped out onto his
white shirt then. There was blood all over him.

“Oh my god,” He choked as he rolled Louis back, his eyes fluttering as he looked up at Harry and
clutched his side. Harry pried his fingers away to look at the wound, then covered it quickly with
his own hand when fresh blood seeped out from a gash on his ribs, his lilac jumper ripped. Louis
hissed at the pressure, his damp eyes squeezing shut.

“Call an ambulance!” Harry shouted. He pulled Louis closer to his chest when the man made a
pained sound, “Shh, baby, I’m here. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

“I’m okay,” Louis repeated and Harry bit his lip hard until he tasted blood at the drowsy tone.
Louis tightened a small fist around Harry’s sleeve.

“God, I’m sorry. I'm so sorry, baby.” Harry choked out as he ducked his face into Louis’ neck,
“You’re going to be okay, I’m so sorry.”

“S’not your fault.”

Harry ran through it all in his head again, feeling anger burn in the pit of his gut, “Why would you
do that, he was aiming for me, why would -” He cut himself off when he realised that his tears
were dripping onto Louis’ lilac jumper.

His tears mixed with Louis’ blood. When he heard sirens in the distance, he tightened his grip on
Louis’ body.

“Just hold on for me, okay?”

Louis hummed, “Just a scratch, H. Barely even hurts.”

Harry chuckled around his raw throat, they both knew it was a lie.

The lights in the hospital bathroom were harsh on his pale skin as he stared at his reflection in the
mirror. The warm spray Harry had felt across his face earlier had been Louis’ blood. It seemed
more sinister in this lighting. He scrubbed at his skin, choking back whatever pitiful sound tried to
escape his lips as the running water turned pink. His hands were caked in blood.

Louis had been rushed into surgery, he’d sat in the hospital waiting room covered in his blood for
nearly an hour before a nurse appeared and told him that it was just a deep gash and no vital organs
were hit, that his lung had nearly been punctured but he was fine by all intents and purposes.

Except he wasn’t fine because he had twenty-seven stitches over his ribs. A blow that was meant
for Harry’s throat. If Louis hadn’t been gifted, Harry would be dead. Though he could argue that if
Louis weren’t so fucking stubborn, then they wouldn’t even be here in the first place. He scrubbed
at his face next, the nurse had told him to clean up before she’d take him to see Louis.

Once he was done, he tossed the paper towels in the bin and left the bathroom, ignoring the redness
rimming his eyes and the dark circles below. He hadn’t been allowed in the ambulance with him,
so he’d driven ahead with his sirens blaring. Daring anyone to try slow the ambulance down,
he’d’ve fucking started a shootout in traffic if that had happened.

The nurse met him in the hallway and led him to Louis’ room, because Louis obviously got a
private fucking room. Though, in fairness, if they’d tried to stick Louis in a general ward Harry
would’ve pulled some strings anyway. He braced himself for the tubes and a weak, immobile
Louis as she swung the door open.

And was instead met with the sight of him sitting up, his feet covered in fluffy socks and his head
tilted as he watched the television. A raised spoon with chocolate pudding halfway to his mouth.
Clifford raised his head from Louis’ lap and barked a greeting when he saw Harry. Louis met his
eyes and beamed as Harry rushed towards his side, annoyance bubbling in his gut.

“Took you long enough.” Louis said.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” He snapped, searching for the lever to lower the bed back to a
horizontal position.

Louis scoffed, “I’m fine, H. The whole affair was so dramatic, I was awake for the entire process.”

Harry’s head swung to the nurse, his glare molten, “You stitched him up without anaesthesia?”

She raised her hands but it was Louis who responded, “You don’t need to be put under for that,
they injected some numbing stuff in my side, I hardly felt it.” Harry held his eyes and Louis’
softened slightly, “I promise.”

The nurse cleared her throat, “I need to do my rounds, do you need anything before I go?”

Louis shook his head and thanked her before she left.

Harry sat down beside the bed and pet Clifford as he looked over Louis, he fucking hated seeing
him in a hospital gown, “Are you okay?”

Louis leaned over to set his pudding cup aside, then hissed under his breath, Harry quickly took it
from him, his eyes scolding as he set it on the table, “Could you try act like a patient at least?”

“Harry, I’m okay.”

Harry regarded him, he didn't hesitate when he reached for Louis’ hand and squeezed it, “Promise
me something?” He murmured.

Louis squeezed back, “I’m listening.”

“Promise me you won’t do something like that again.” Harry whispered, his eyes intense as they
focused on him.

Louis’ eyes flashed in defiance, “I can’t do that, because I don’t regret it.”

Harry clenched his jaw, “Lou.”

“You didn’t hesitate…”

Harry paused, remembering their conversation from before, it felt so long ago now. He shifted
slightly in his seat, “I didn’t hesitate.”
 “You saved my life.”

Harry shook his head, “You saved mine.”

Louis chuckled, “Guess that makes us even.”

Harry bit his lip, “Let’s leave it at that, it’s not a competition I want to be a part of.”

Louis nodded, squeezing his hand once more. Clifford huffed and set his paw on Louis' thigh as he
rested his head on Harry’s other hand.

Chapter End Notes

I decided to post the rest of the chapters for this book now to mark the start of Louis'
tour on Tues. If anyone's going to first show, I hope you have an incredible time! xx
 Louis
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

I'll give you everything I am,

All my broken heartbeats.

Until I know you'll understand.

And I will make sure to keep my distance,

Say I love you when you're not listening

Distance, Christina Perri

For someone who wasn’t looking for any type of serious commitment, Harry sure hovered like an
overprotective boyfriend. He’d taken Louis home the day after and had brought his work with him,
refusing to leave Louis’ side for even a second. He hadn’t been in the hospital long enough to need
visitors but Liam swung by with flowers and disappointment etched into his features. He’d been
upset with Louis for going to see Richards’ and even though Harry had agreed with him, he’d still
eyed the flowers with pursed lips.

Zayn and Niall had stopped by as well though Harry barely glanced in Zayn’s direction and only
offered about five words to Niall. Louis had tried to talk to him about their falling out, knowing it
obviously had to do with Zayn setting up the meeting, but the agent remained stoic on the topic.
They had bigger concerns now. Zayn had warned them to expect retaliation for killing Richards’,
and while Louis hadn’t seen the shot, he still heard it echoing in his dreams. Still felt the way the
tiles trembled under his body when Richards’ hit the floor. One thing that kept circling in his mind
was the release of hatred he’d always used to feel from the man, like shedding a coat on a hot day.
He was ashamed to admit it felt like a relief.

A week had now passed and Harry was practically living in the guest room. He cooked dinner
most nights, and at first he’d chased Louis out of the kitchen and back to the comfort of the couch
where he couldn’t strain himself. Now though, he allowed Louis to sit on the counter and watch
him, pretending he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sat on this counter, and what they’d
been doing. Harry hadn’t touched him like that again. There was a singular moment in the hospital,
when he’d been tipping into sleep, that he’d felt Harry’s lips brush against his bruised cheekbone.
He’d kept his eyes shut and his breathing even, not wanting to break the moment.

It took everything in him not to try to push Harry. He had his demons to work through, and for
now, he just couldn’t do that with Louis at his side - because he was too much. He’d heard that
before. Too loud, too excitable, too clingy. It ached to acknowledge it, to see the truth of it in
Harry’s eyes. To know that while Harry may be attracted to him, he wasn’t someone the agent
would ever consider settling down with. While he was all those things, he was also too broken, too
damaged and too irreparable.

He’d said he wouldn’t wait for Harry to figure it out. It had tasted like a lie, had made his heart
crumble at the hopelessness of it all. To admit defeat before it had even really begun. That was the
crux of it really, that nothing had even started before Harry had backed out. He didn’t regret putting
himself out there, for kissing Harry. He just wasn’t sure if, now that he knew what it felt like to be
wanted by Harry, to not have it again.

Harry might want him, but he was also overly practical, and while Louis had his intuition the agent
had always been harder to read. During their confrontation he’d had to fight to focus on the man, to
feel the want pouring off of him, but he couldn’t discern whether it went deeper than sexual
chemistry. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew Harry cared in some capacity, he just didn’t think it was
enough.

Harry had also called him ‘baby’. Like that wouldn’t completely swarm Louis’ heart in golden
warmth. If he’d entertained just the smallest fantasy that that moment would’ve changed anything
between them during the span of the conversation they’d had outside the house and the hospital
room, he was sorely mistaken.

“Stop that.” Harry muttered, his back turned to Louis as he cooked the pasta over the stove.

Louis snapped back to the present, “What?”

Harry sent him a knowing look over his shoulder, “Stop scratching at it, they’re removing the
stitches tomorrow.”

Louis hummed, pulling his fingers away, “Think I need to put the ointment on.”

“I’ll grab it.” Harry said as he placed the wooden spoon across the pot and left the kitchen. That
was another thing that had changed between them, most times Louis didn’t need to lift a finger.
Louis had teased the possibility that Harry had clairvoyant tendencies because he seemed to know
what Louis needed before he’d even considered getting up to fetch it.

He also got endless cups of tea without any complaints.

Harry came back carrying the tube, which was nearly empty, he gestured for Louis to lift his shirt
and Louis frowned.

“I can do it?” Louis muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“If it still itches it means you haven’t been applying it correctly, which makes sense given that you
could barely lift your arm those first few days.” He muttered impatiently as he stepped up to the
counter.

Louis tried to hop off of the counter but Harry stopped him with a hand on his knee, he felt his face
flood with colour, realising he’d have to remove his shirt while sitting down. It wasn’t that he was
insecure about his body, it was just that his tummy was a little soft and when he sat he couldn’t
really hide that.

“Come on, let’s take a look.” Harry said, his fingers slipping under Louis’ jumper, he bit his lip
and shivered slightly at the contact.

Louis looked ahead as Harry pushed it up and curled his other arm slightly in front of his stomach,
clearing his throat uncomfortably. He didn’t want to see Harry’s eyes when he looked at him
“It’s healed really well,” Harry murmured, his head ducked so he could look at the stitches, his
breath puffing over the skin of Louis’ ribs. A moment later the feeling of cool, gel coated fingers
stroked against the cut and drew a sound from the back of Louis’ throat. He could see when
Harry’s eyes flicked up to his face out of the corner of his eye. “You okay?”

Louis hummed.

“Am I…” Harry's fingers paused their work, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Clifford came into the kitchen then and walked over to nudge at Louis’ dangling foot where he’d
been swinging it against the cupboard. He halted the movement and quickly shook his head, while
discreetly trying to pull the side of his jumper down over his tummy.

As if the world wanted to prove just how much it hated him, Harry caught the movement and drew
back. Louis bit at his lip ring as Harry straightened in front of him and braced his hands on either
side of Louis’ thighs, frowning into his eyes.

Louis tugged the jumper back into place and curled his fingers around his sleeves as he looked
down at Clifford, “I should feed him.” He said, for the sake of breaking the silence between them.

When Harry remained quiet, Louis looked up at his face to find him trying to suppress a smirk. In a
split second Louis’ embarrassment was replaced with indignation.

“What?” He snapped.

Harry hung his curly head between them, his shoulders shaking slightly as he chuckled, he looked
up at Louis again, their faces closer than before, “Sorry, s’just…you’re kind of ridiculous.”

Louis’ scoffed, “What?”

“Lou,” Harry said, his eyes still sparkling with mirth as they settled on his lips, “You’re
devastatingly gorgeous, it should be illegal for you to feel insecure about anything.”

Louis sucked in a sharp breath, but deflected easily, “Pot, meet kettle.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he drew away, walking backwards towards the stove, “Just take the
compliment.”

“Which one.” Louis shot back, his eyes flicking down to Harry’s half hard cock with an arched
brow.

Harry cleared his throat and spun around to check on the pasta, ignoring him. Louis mentally
cursed himself and hopped down from the counter to feed Clifford. They continued to work in
silence, a new kind of tension settling between them as they avoided brushing up against one
another. It was extremely frustrating.

More than anything, Louis just wanted to go for a run. He bit his lip and looked down at Clifford,
knowing his dog likely missed the physical activity as well.

“H, I’m gonna take Clifford for a walk outside.” Louis said.

Harry looked over his shoulder at Louis, then through the window to the forest beyond. Louis
could see the indecision weighing in his eyes as he thought through ways to shoot Louis down.

“Stay in front of the window where I can see you.” He said at last.
Louis sighed, “Deal.”

He walked to the entry and grabbed Clifford’s leash, the dog wagging his tail excitedly, already
desperate for the chance to play in the autumn leaves. Louis pulled on a coat, the weather felt like
it’d changed overnight. Winter was just around the corner and already the air tasted like the
anticipation of snow. He loved the snow, but only in small doses. It made everything wet and cold,
and trying to run in the winter mornings made his chest burn. Clifford enjoyed it though, he loved
breaking through heaped mounds of the stuff, coating his fur and then shaking it out over his
owner - much to Louis’ chagrin. He spent far too much time shovelling his driveway during
winters and would end up spending weeks on end holed up in his home writing instead of braving
the city and the sludge.

His mind briefly touched on how he’d be spending Christmas this year. He’d asked Liam about it
in the hospital but his friend admitted he’d made plans to visit his family, he’d offered for Louis to
join but he’d declined. Liam’s relationship with his family was still mildly precarious, it was best
to let him spend the holiday season without his presence souring the experience. It wasn’t that
Liam’s family detested Louis, they just weren’t overly sure of his influence over their son and
brother, which was fair given their past.

He hadn’t asked Zayn and Niall, though he’d overheard the blonde talk of travelling to somewhere
warmer. He already knew Harry would be back home in the UK. The thought had something
twisting in his stomach, akin to longing. He was strong enough to admit he missed his sisters, and
had thought of them often throughout the years, none of them had tried to reach out though. It was
possible his mother had smudged the truth of what had gone down between them, but he also knew
that the girls were old enough now to know better.

Thoughts of his mother swirled through his mind as he trudged through his lawn with Clifford,
stopping every few minutes for the dog to sniff around or do his business.

He’d tried thinking back to past Christmases, they’d been kind of lovely. They hadn’t been all that
well-off in terms of money, but his mother had always made sure he got two presents, one for his
birthday and one to open on Christmas day when he was little. The presents had stopped when his
sisters had come along, not that he’d minded, really. He still got gifts from his friends, it just got a
bit harder when he couldn’t offer much in return.

He kicked at a branch and huffed, his skin prickling with self-pity. He looked down at Clifford and
while he loved his dog with his entire heart, something about the thought of being alone for
Christmas sent a pang through his chest.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Louis looked up to find Harry leaning against the balustrade on the porch, his arms crossed over
his chest as he watched Louis.

Louis swallowed and shrugged, “Nothing much.”

Harry hummed and waited patiently.

With a sigh Louis chuckled and looked down at his feet, his shoes already collecting bits of mud,
“Thinking about my mum.”

Harry’s eyes were pensive as they studied him, he bit at his lip, “I, uh…I read in an article years
ago that she’d tried to reach out to you, but that you wouldn’t talk to her?”
Louis squinted at the setting sun then looked out over the forest, letting his eyes settle on Mount
Hood as he drew a deep breath of the fresh, pine coated air. He remembered the day the article had
come out, remembered how it had felt to realise his own mother had gone to the press to drag him.

“Maybe she wanted to fix things?” Harry murmured.

Louis hummed, “Yeah she called when I got the book deal.”

Harry frowned, “The book deal? But what about -”

He faced Harry then, his shoulders tight, “She called after I got the book deal, I thought she’d only
just found out about my ordeal and wanted to make sure I was okay. She didn’t, she wanted a cut of
the royalties.” He said.

Harry’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes widening momentarily, before they darkened with fury. “So
she went to the media when you declined and told them you no longer wanted contact after you got
famous?”

Louis nodded, clenching his jaw to stop the prick of tears, it had been so long ago he wasn’t sure
why it still stung. Harry must’ve caught the turn in his emotions because he hopped down the steps
and made his way over.

Louis hiccuped slightly when Harry’s arms slipped around his waist and settled him against his
chest, “I’m sorry,” He murmured into Louis’ hair.

He swallowed, “It was a long time ago, H. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It still matters.” He said, his tone fierce and his grip on Louis’ body tight, “You didn’t deserve
that.”

Louis let the words be felt, let them pour over him and settle like a balm over the old ache. He
shifted slightly to push his cold face into the warm crook of Harry’s neck and shivered at the
contrast, “Thank you.” He whispered.

They stayed like that as the cool breeze cut around them, wrapped around each other and enjoying
their combined heat. For a moment Louis allowed himself to imagine it being like this all the time,
that he’d have Harry’s arms to turn into when the dark side of his past reared its head. Or when a
day was particularly hard or stressful. He imagined Harry coming home after work and settling
down beside him on the couch, his fingers running through Louis’ hair as they murmured about
their work or what to make for dinner, or what Clifford had done that was funny.

A tug at the leash in his hand brought him firmly back to reality. Louis’ arm was pulled slightly
from his body and he stumbled lightly, Harry steadied him as he frowned at where Clifford was
sniffing. The dog huffed and whined excitedly and Louis walked back towards the porch to see
what had gotten his attention.

There, just below the stairs and tucked beside a potted plant was a cardboard box, his eyebrows
pinched together.

“What is it?” Harry called, a few steps behind.

“Did we order something?” Louis asked as he bent down.

He heard Harry choke on a gasp and then a sputtered, “Lou -wait!” but his fingers had already
closed around the box and he was straightening with it clutched between his hands. He turned and
faced Harry, confusion marring his features.

“What? what’s wrong?”

Harry looked pale, his arm outstretched towards him, his fingers splayed, “Lou, don’t move okay.”

Anxiety prickled at his senses, and he bit his lip hard to keep his hands from trembling. Fuck, fuck,
fuck. What did he do? Why did Harry look like that?

Clifford whined beside him and Harry stepped in front of him quickly, though he didn’t reach out
to touch him, his hands hovered in the space around Louis’ body, “I need you to be calm, okay?
You can’t move. Lou, look at me.”

Louis’ eyes flew back up to Harry’s own, “J-just tell me what’s going on.” A moment later an
image slammed into his mind and he gasped, nearly dropping the box, “You think it’s a bomb.” He
keened.

Harry made a sound in the back of his throat when Louis nearly shifted, “Baby, stay calm okay. I
need to make a call, but I need you to promise me you’re going to stay still. We just need to be
sure.”

Louis swallowed thickly, “It’s - it can’t be, that’s not his M.O. I -”

“Lou, I killed his friend, the box might’ve been meant for me.” Harry’s eyes were pained as he
spoke and he was still so deathly pale as he pulled his phone from his pocket, “Let’s just check to
be safe, okay?”

Louis nodded carefully, feeling sweat prickle at the back of his neck, his pinky finger started to
shake.

Harry called Niall and ordered him to get bomb-squad to Lous’ house immediately, when he was
done he looked over Louis again, steely resolve flashing in his eyes.

“I need you to listen to me, okay? I’m going to place my hands under the box - are you squeezing
the sides at all?” Louis shook his head, “Okay, once my hands are under the box you’re going to
release it.”

Louis nearly choked at the thought of himself placing a live bomb in Harry’s hands, “Not a fucking
chance.”

“Louis.” Harry warned, his tone was horribly serious, his eyes hard. “I’m not asking you, I need
you to do this okay?”

“P-please don’’t m-make me-”

“Baby, your hands are shaking.” Harry murmured. Louis looked down to see that his pinky and
ring fingers were now trembling, his other hand tensed.

Louis swallowed thickly, his mind spinning, “T-take Clifford and -”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He said, “I’m taking the box and then you’re going to go wait in your
bedroom until the bomb squad arrives.”

Louis cut off a whine in his throat, tears prickling his eyes, “Fuck, why can’t I just sense it - I c-
can’t -”
“You’re scared right now, and that’s okay, it’s okay.” Harry said as he slowly slipped his hands
under the box and stepped closer, “I need you to let go now.” He murmured, his eyes holding
Louis’ own.

“Harry,” Louis choked out, his eyes flying over his face.

Harry nodded encouragingly, “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“Don’t fucking promise me.” Louis bit out.

Harry swallowed but nodded, “You’re right, I shouldn’t’ve.” he leaned forward then and brushed
his lips across Louis’ cheek, “Let go and take a step back quickly, okay?” He whispered.

Louis whimpered, “Jesus. This is so fucked up.”

“We’ll laugh about it later.”

“Styles.” Louis growled.

“Let go.” He murmured.

Slowly, Louis pulled his hands away from the box, realising that Harry had been holding its weight
steadily during the entire exchange. His heart leapt to his throat as he stepped back and looked up
into Harry’s face.

“Go inside, take Clifford.”

Louis shook his head.

“Lou.” Harry warned again.

“I’m not leaving you, it’s my fault -”

“Don’t do that.” Harry interrupted quickly, “Nothing that happens from here on out is your fault
okay?”

Louis remained silent as he stared at the man before him, his heart pulsing throughout his entire
body, and he wasn’t religious or anything but at that moment he prayed to any deity that would
listen - begged, really - that they not let it be a bomb.

“Please…at least go stand on the porch, at the end.” Harry said at last.

Louis bit his lip and looked over at the distance from where they stood to where Harry had
indicated, just as the sound of sirens broke out in the distance. He released the breath he’d been
holding and wrapped his arms around his waist, clutching Clifford’s leash tightly.

“Don’t fight them when they make you move.” Harry said quickly and Louis nodded, not wanting
to do anything to delay the process. Two SUV’s and a truck sped up the driveway and came to a
sharp halt beside Louis and Harry’s cars.

Niall and Zayn were the first to rush from their car and hurry over.

“Stay back!” Harry barked.

Zayn’s arm flew out against Niall’s chest to block his approach, the blonde’s wide blue eyes were
glued to the box. Zayn looked at Louis and gestured for him to walk towards them. Harry’s friends
looked stricken and the sight made nausea roll in his gut.

“Go to Zayn,” Harry said as the sounds of slamming doors rang out, voices calling out orders.

Louis kept his eyes on Harry as he slowly backed towards the other agents, his hands wringing the
leash. Clifford strained to nose at the box and Louis snapped at him, then quickly petted his head in
apology.

Zayn wrapped his arm around Louis’ waist when he stopped beside them, his eyes were still glued
to Harry’s.

“Would this be a good time to ask that you accept my apology?” Zayn called to Harry and Louis
gaped at him.

“Malik, I’m trying really fucking hard not to move.” Harry said, his face breaking out into a large
dimpled-smile, though his eyes still look strained.

Zayn shrugged, “Now or never, right?”

“Jesus.” Louis breathed.

“Can I also be forgiven?” Niall piped up.

“Fuck you both.” Harry said with an eye roll.

Niall and Zayn chuckled, it sounded heavy, “You know you love us.” Niall called back.

Harry held both their eyes for a moment, they flicked to Louis before he looked back at Niall, “I
do.”

It sobered the three of them as they huddled together. A man with a large puffy suit on walked past
them towards Harry, he carried a box with wires in his hands.

“Explosives Detection device.” Zayn murmured to him, “They’ll irradiate the box with a high-
frequency signal, and check for responses on the scanner. It reads electromagnetic fields that
they’ll have to decipher.”

“How long will that take?” Louis asked as the man lowered a shield over his face, just as another
man came up behind Harry and slowly placed a vest over his chest and his own shield.

“Couple minutes.” Niall said.

The three watched as the man in the suit nodded to Harry, they seemed to be talking as the man
slipped on headphones and held a device to the side of the box, waving it like a wand - similar to
what they’d at an airport.

The man’s eyes were glued to his screen, his eyebrows pinched in concentration.

Louis crossed his fingers, his heart in his throat as they waited.

The man nodded and Louis choked on a gasp, until he pulled off his shield and headphones,
“Clear!” he called out.

He took the box from Harry just as Louis dropped Clifford’s leash and bolted towards the agent.
Harry just barely managed to catch him as he flung his body into his arms and wrapped his legs
around his waist.
“You stupid son of a bitch.” He growled, burying his face into his neck and inhaling deeply.

Harry’s body was trembling slightly, “Your stitches.” He said quickly, trying to set Louis down but
he clung tighter. A moment later Harry’s arms tightened around him and he exhaled against Louis’
ear.

“Harry, you need to see this.” At Niall’s voice they both parted, Harry carefully set him down and
looked over at where Zayn and he were peering into the opened box. Louis followed as Harry
walked over.

The agent reached the box first and snuck a look before turning back quickly and blocking Louis’
approach.

Louis froze, his eyes flying up to Harry’s face, he looked murderous, “What is it?” He asked,
trying to peer around him but Harry held him firmly.

“Is it human?” Harry asked, his tone grim.

“Oh god, what is it?” Louis asked, and at last he could see plastic within the box, it was splattered
with blood. He could feel his own blood drain from his face as he swayed on his feet.

“I don’t think so.” Niall answered Harry, “We’ll have to send it to the lab.”

“We’ve got forensics here, I’ll go call them.” Zayn said and hurried away.

“What is it?” Louis asked again.

Niall’s eyes met his and he hesitated, but Harry nodded for him to go ahead, “It’s a heart, Lou.”

Louis sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers digging into Harry’s forearm. Something wet nudged at
his free hand and he looked down at Clifford as the dog nosed at his palm. He quickly scratched
behind his ears, feeling guilty for momentarily forgetting about him. Jesus, what a day.

Zayn returned then with a brunette woman, her hair was tied back in a severe pony-tail and her bold
eyebrows were stern.

“Hey Sarah.” Harry greeted.

“Hey, idiot.” Sarah said with an eye roll, “Gave us all a good scare there.”

Harry smiled, “Just needed to make sure you cared is all.”

Sarah huffed, shaking her head as she leaned over the box and snapped on some latex gloves. She
hummed in the back of her throat as she prodded at the heart, “It’s not human…” She leaned
forward slightly, “It’s canine.”

Louis dropped a protective hand on Clifford’s head, “Wh-what?”

Sarah looked up at him, her sympathetic eyes trailing down to Clifford, “We’ll find out the breed,
but given the size…”

She was still looking at Clifford, “Christ.” Niall spat, “A fucking dog ?”

Harry shifted so that Clifford was between them as his eyes scanned over the forest, “My question
is how he got out here without us noticing.”
“I didn’t have my cameras on because you were here.” Louis murmured softly. Sarah lifted the
box, Zayn spoke softly to her and she nodded before she left.

Harry settled a hand on his waist, “No that’s -”

“Styles!” A voice barked out from across the lawn and Louis froze, whipping his head around.
Harry’s hand fell away from his waist.

Agent Charles marched towards them, his hard eyes glued to Louis’ face, “What’s this I hear about
a bomb threat?”

“False alarm.” Harry said when the man reached them, Louis pretended not to notice when Harry
shifted away from him, ignoring the pang in his chest. Both Niall and Zayn were tense as they
regarded the older man.

Charles hummed, his judging eyes trailing over Louis, “Right in the thick of it again, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you.” Louis spat, his tone venomous.

He huffed, “Yeah, nothing’s changed.”

Louis bristled at the condescending tone, he looked up at Harry who remained quiet and felt
disappointment claw at his throat.

Zayn was watching Harry too.

“I’ve got to ask Louis some questions about his old friends, now that he's feeling better.” The
words sounded patronising.

“Getting injured when risking your life for an agent requires time to recuperate.” Niall muttered.

Charles looked over at the blonde, “Hmm, you wouldn’t know anything about that. No field work
for you yet, right?”

Zayn bristled beside him, “He’s been cleared for field work.”

Charles chuckled, “They’ve let the Portland Field Office go to the dogs since I've left.”

“And yet they’ve made more progress on this case than you ever did. No fuck up in sight either.”
Louis clapped back.

The older man’s hard eyes settled on his face once more as he stepped towards him, “I can think of
one fuck up.” He growled, his face inches from Louis’ own.

“Step back.”

Four sets of eyes flew towards Harry’s lethal murmur.

Charles straightened and looked over the four of them, “I suggest we take this inside, I have some
news to share.”

Louis crossed his arms over his chest, “You’re not welcome in my home.”

“Would you prefer I do this outside?”

Something flashed by Louis’ mind’s eye and he glared at the man, feeling his hackles rise. After
everything that Harry had done for this investigation, the man was really going to try and ruin his
reputation.

“I didn’t think so,” Charles said and gestured towards Louis’ front door. When he turned to lead
them inside, Harry sent Louis a quizzical glance but he avoided it, not wanting to cause a scene.
Zayn left their group momentarily to talk with the agents still loitering about, as well as the bomb
squad, muttering about the amount of paperwork this would require when he got back to the office
later, it seemed he’d be pulling an all-nighter.

Charles led them into the living room and Louis bristled as his eyes ran over the blankets and
pillows strewn about, the half empty cup of tea. Harry murmured about turning on the stove to
finish the pasta. He was only gone for a minute though, thankfully, so Louis sank into his couch
and pulled Clifford against his side as he looked at the man and waited.

Harry perched on the armrest beside him and Niall claimed the other couch. Zayn came back in
then and shut the door, before joining them. Charles laced his hands behind his back as he turned
to Harry.

“The U.S. Attorney’s office reviewed the footage from the Richards’ shooting, and they feel that
Tomlinson acted suspiciously fast when blocking the blow that would’ve likely killed you.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.” Harry growled.

Charles sent Harry a hard look, “As for you, internal affairs have decided to conduct an
investigation into your behaviour regarding Richards.”

Silence swelled in the room, it felt as if the oxygen had been sucked from the air as they all stared
at the man. Louis was the only one glaring, his nostrils flared.

“He had a weapon, I acted in -”

Charles waved Harry off, “Self-defence, yes. However during your previous meeting you assaulted
Richards, and that was not in self-defence. We also have evidence that you and Tomlinson were
provoking the man before he lashed out.”

Zayn gaped, his eyebrows puckering together, “You can’t be serious? Our own investigation
showed that Richards’ had been tampering with that link from the very first meeting, that’s
premeditated.”

Charles waved him off dismissively, “Regardless, any evidence gathered from this point forward
will be inadmissible during a trial if the lead investigating agent is under review.”

Louis grit his teeth, his tone hard when he murmured, “I find it awfully convenient that you’ve
shown up in time to offer your services.”

Zayn, Niall and Harry’s eyes swung to him, then back to Charles.

Niall sputtered, “Are you suggesting you take over from here on out?”

Charles sighed, as if it were a burden, the fucking prick. “I might need to, the attorney general -”

“That’s fucking horseshit, conduct your review but you’re not removing me form the case.” Harry
growled. Louis shifted slightly so that his shoulder was resting against Harry’s thigh for comfort,
the backs of Harry’s knuckles brushed against it as if he’d noticed and appreciated the gesture.
Zayn and Niall were glaring at Charles.

“Should’ve known you’d try to twist the narrative.” Zayn muttered darkly. “All to get your face in
the papers, after we’d done the work.”

Charles inclined his head, “I had no part in this, we have to look at the facts, and those facts are
that Tomlinson has gotten all of you too invested in this case. You’re no longer objective.”

“Is work so scarce in Washington that you’d come here to pick at old wounds?” Louis murmured.

“I understand if this brings up some poor experiences for you -”

“I’m talking about your pride, old man. You’re still chasing your tail over the fact that I wasn’t
involved.” Louis bit back.

“See that’s where you’re wrong.” Louis frowned at his words.

“Charles.” Harry warned.

The man’s eyes glinted as he smiled at Louis, “It was because of you that the Angel Killer started
murdering innocent people. He was a member of the gang you dismantled, you robbed him of his
family and triggered his psychosis.”

Louis’ breath was robbed from his lungs at the words, his body stilled as he stared at Charles.
Slowly he looked to Harry, who was glaring at the man.

“Harry?” His voice sounded small, even to his own ears.

Harry swallowed as he looked down at him, “It’s not your fault.”

“But it’s true?”

“Charles is twisting it, Lou.” Niall said, “He’s taken what he’d heard us discuss and drawn his own
conclusions. We realised that the Angel Killer was in the gang, yes, and that a possible trigger was
losing that community. He’s going after people that resemble some of the men that had had a hand
in its downfall - not just the C.I.’s.”

Louis’ eyes widened, “Oh God, Tyr and Loki. Of course!” He slapped his palm against his
forehead in annoyance at not making the connection sooner. Harry made a noise of disapproval at
the sound and pulled his hand away quickly, inspecting his forehead.

Tyr was the Norse God of war and bloodshed and Loki was the Norse God known as the trickster,
they’d thought they were so clever naming the fentanyl pills laced with cocaine after the God who
could change his appearance. Tyr, because he’d sacrificed his arm so the Gods could trap Fenrir, it
had been a warning - don’t bite the hand that feeds you. The cartel would distribute the drugs, but
wouldn’t hesitate resorting to more sinister means of punishment should anyone expose them.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve been here a week.” He accused.

Harry bit his lip, “You needed to heal, I didn’t want to -”

“You’ve been living here?” Charles asked suddenly. The four of them looked up at the man in
surprise, almost as if they’d forgotten he was there.

“It was easier to work from here and keep an eye on Louis.”
Charles' eyes flicked between Louis and Harry, “So the protection detail wasn’t necessary in the
first place, just another expense?”

Harry clenched his jaw, “Given that we just found a fucking heart in a box outside, I’d say it was
necessary.”

“This will all be reported, Styles.” Charles warned. “Internal affairs will have a lot of ammunition
to remove you.”

“If you try to replace me now all evidence we’ve gathered thus far will be inadmissible at worst
and questionable at best, anyway.” Harry snapped. Louis felt pride bloom in his chest, it took a lot
for Harry to stand up to his old mentor.

Zayn sat up, “If you dismiss Harry from the case, you will not have access to my personal findings
and I can assure you no other profilers will assist you.”

Harry seemed surprised by that but hid it well.

Niall merely grinned and nodded. Clifford yawned loudly.

Charles laughed, “I know you’d all like to paint me as the villain here, I’m only doing this because
it’s in your best interest Harry.”

A thick silence settled over the room, followed by a snort. Everyone turned to look at Louis.

“You’re doing it as a last hoorah before you retire.” Louis said, shrugging. “This case has been a
metaphorical thorn in your career's side, a blemish that you’d like removed, preferably by your
own means.”

Charles clenched his jaw, “I’ve been put on this case to oversee its proceedings and report back.”

Louis looked up at Harry, purposefully ignoring the man. “The pasta’s ready, Zayn and Niall
would like to stay, even though they’re too polite to ask.”

The profiler and the blonde shot them large smiles.

Louis turned to Charles, “You can leave now.”

“I’ll be in touch regarding your internal investigation.”

Louis pulled a face and Niall cackled.

Charles' face turned crimson, his eyes burning with fury as they held Louis’ own, “You’ve
interfered enough, Tomlinson. It only takes a single mistake.” He warned, his lips speckled with
spit.

Louis sent him a mock salute as the man left the room, the sound of the front door slamming shut
behind him a moment later echoing through the house.

Zayn sighed then, “Fuck, we’ll need to make sure we do everything by the book from here on out.”

“Glorified fucking babysitter.” Niall muttered as he dragged a hand over his face.

Louis looked up at Harry who was staring out of the window into the forest, his eyes narrowed and
troubled. Charles' words about him being too close to the case had affected him greatly apparently,
because Louis could sense him contemplating his actions. He nibbled at his lip ring, wondering if
 this was what finally pushed Harry out of his reach for good. He knew that that was what it boiled
down to, while Harry dealt with the insecurity of what Louis had guessed was his father, there was
more to it.

It was written all over him now, his fear that should something between himself and Louis happen,
that he’d no longer be objective in the case. That if he made a mistake it would cost Louis his life
and that he’d be responsible for it. Worst of all was that Louis had no idea how to convince him
otherwise.

They were polar opposites in how they dealt with things, how they perceived the world, yet he’d
still managed to fall for Harry.

Chapter End Notes

Would love to hear your thoughts :) x

 Harry
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Oh it's your light, oh it's your way

Pull me out of the dark, just to shoulder the weight

Cryin' out now, from so far away

You pull me closer to love

Closer to love, Matt kearney

The exterior cameras had been disabled because Harry had been with Louis and Louis had trusted
him. He’d trusted Harry to keep him safe, yet he hadn’t even noticed someone sneak onto the
property to deliver the fucking box-that-could’ve-been-a-bomb. If Harry had questioned his
feelings before, the moment Louis’ fingers had wrapped around that box, he knew he was done for.
In that moment, his entire world had narrowed down to the tremble in Louis’ pinky finger. In the
way his body shifted minutely in fear.

He’d broken protocol when he’d taken the box from Louis, it was fucking stupid, yet all he could
think about in that moment was a repeat of: Not him, not him, not him. It was pure insanity to’ve
felt the enormous amount of relief that had flooded him the second Louis had no longer been
holding it. He hadn’t spared a thought for himself, all he could process were the giant,
mesmerising blue eyes staring into his own fearfully. Louis’ fear had been so tangible he swore
it’d turned the air sour. It physically pained him.

He’d spent a week with Louis, telling himself that maybe if he spent too much time with the man
that the feelings would fade, that it was likely just an over-abundance of attraction and the fact that
he hadn’t had sex in a while. That had been a fucking pipe-dream. Everything about Louis drew
Harry in, the way he sighed softly when his eyes grew heavy as they watched a baking channel.
The way he’d curl his feet up under himself and distractedly curl Clifford's ear between his fingers.
How beautiful he looked when the little line formed between his eyebrows in concentration when
he worked.

His sleepy-softness in the mornings. His fucking kitten-yawns before his first cup of tea. How he’d
chatter away about his book or his favourite season (Autumn) while Harry cooked, and how he’d
steal bites when he thought Harry wasn’t looking. How he’d murmur to Clifford while he sat by
the window, he’d even point out random trees while muttering to the dog.

To study Louis Tomlinson, was to fall in love with him.

In some ways he’d known it had been inevitable, he’d just hoped beyond reason that it could’ve
been avoided. It all circled back to the fact that he’d brought danger back into Louis’ life, and that
he felt like the only shield to it now, it meant he needed to be enough to protect him. He couldn’t
allow himself to be distracted beyond that. It would kill him.

Yet he wasn’t strong enough to keep Louis at arms’ length anymore, In the back of his mind he
continued to hear Louis’ murmured words from that day in the office. I make every day count.
Harry certainly hadn’t made every day he’d spent with the man count, and Louis deserved that. He
deserved so much more than the slice of barely-average the world had decided to dish out to him.

Louis winced as the doctor helped him remove his jumper, and Harry stepped forwards to help.
They were cutting out his stitches today, he’d have a scar but the wound had healed well. He hated
the fact that another scar marred Louis’ skin. Though he hadn’t seen the rest he knew they were
there. In fact, as the doctor pulled the jumper over Louis’ head, Louis turned to fold it and Harry’s
eyes landed on his back.

Louis’ head shot up when Harry choked off a noise of surprise at the sight of the scar. It started
just above his left shoulder blade and curved down to his hip, the scar was thick and white. There
were smaller scars nicked into his skin here and there but that one was the most prominent. Louis
cleared his throat and turned slightly to block it from view, his cheeks burning.

“Sorry,” He muttered, his lashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looked away.

Before Harry could respond, to reassure him that he didn’t have to hide it, the doctor spoke up,
“Just lay down on the bed there and we’ll get started, if you could just raise your elbow above your
head.”

Louis nodded and hopped onto the bed, he laid down sideways and extended his elbow above his
head. Harry stared, his lips softly parted as he took in the sight. Louis’ chest tattoo was on full
display, the words ‘It is what it is’ in looping text accentuating the prominence of his collar bones.
His lower stomach curved slightly, the golden skin made Harry’s mouth water. He pictured sinking
his teeth into it and had to avert his gaze.

His eyes flicked back to the tattoo, it was so Louis . A blatant acceptance of the course of his life,
like a shrug to the universe. He felt his lips tug up into a smile as he met Louis’ blue, oceanic gaze.
That damned smirk that curled over the other man’s pink lips sent a fresh burst of heat through his
gut. The doctor snapped on his gloves and wiped around the wound before grabbing his surgical
scissors and getting to work. The smirk faded as Louis bit his lip. Harry held Clifford back when
the dog tried to step closer to the bed.

Louis closed his eyes, still biting his lip, his eyebrows slightly pushed together - and Harry needed
to get the fuck out of there because his body was responding in ways it really shouldn’t be.

“Lou, I’m just gonna take Cliff out for a second.” He said.

Louis sent him a nod and a grateful smile.

Harry didn’t wait for the doctor to say anything, he quickly left the room, drawing a deep breath as
soon as the door shut between them. A half naked Louis Tomlinson was far too distracting,
especially when he’d pull faces that Harry had pictured in vastly different circumstances. To shake
that thought from his mind, he slipped into the gift shop and meandered about. Clifford sniffed at
some jumpers that caught Harry’s eye.

He smiled to himself as he fingered a lavender one, the material was thick with a fluffy lining, an
outline of an embroidered white heart over the right breast. He bit his lip, considering, then sighed
and pulled Louis’ size from the rail and headed to the register. The woman working there greeted
him, her tone bored, he sent her a dimpled smile that made her blush as she took his card.
When he returned to the hospital room, the doctor was covering Louis’ scar with a bandage,
instructing him to apply a new ointment twice a day for the next three days. Harry and Clifford
stood to the side as they waited for the doctor to clear out. He thanked him and shook his hand
before turning to Louis.

“Decided to do some shopping?” Louis asked, eyeing the bag with a grin.

Harry felt his cheeks heat as he shrugged, “It’s a gift.”

Uncertainty flickered through Louis’ eyes as he pulled his jumper back on, he frowned slightly, his
hands straightening the material over his hips. “Oh?”

Harry hummed, holding the door open for Louis as he passed.

Louis’ fingers fluttered to his fringe, straightening it, “Cool.”

Harry frowned at Louis’ profile, the man wouldn’t meet his eyes as he took Clifford’s leash from
him and set the pace towards the exit. He wasn’t exactly sure how to read him at that moment, he
seemed almost…distant. Anxiety flared in Harry’s chest, did Louis not like gifts? Had Harry
overstepped or crossed some kind of line?

Louis remained quiet once they reached the car, Harry opened the door for him but Louis didn’t
take his hand like he usually would. He bit his lip as he tucked Clifford’s tail to the side and shut
the door. Once he’d gotten in he faced Louis, his hands were tucked in his lap, his face angled
towards the window.

Harry cleared his throat and shifted slightly, “Here,” he muttered, feeling mildly embarrassed as he
set the bag in Louis’ lap.

Louis’ head dropped to the bag before shooting up to Harry, his eyes wide as his hands slowly
curled around the bag. “Wh-what?”

Harry shrugged, starting the car and angling the vents so Louis could warm up.

“You got me a gift?” It was Harry's turn to be surprised as he looked back at him, Louis’ eyebrows
were drawn, his lips parted and he looked so genuinely lost that Harry nearly laughed.

“Who else would it be for?” He asked slowly, confused.

At that, Louis’ cheeks flared red and he ducked his gaze, “I dunno, I thought…”

Clarity settled over the agent and he had to fight not to scoff, Louis had thought he’d gotten the gift
for someone else. As if he weren’t obvious enough about his feelings for the man, it was almost
ridiculous at this point for Louis to even consider Harry having other options - that he’d want
anyone else.

“Open it.” He murmured as he pulled out of the lot.

Louis bit back a shy smile as he gently pulled the bag open, he pulled the jumper from the bag, a
pretty gasp escaping him. “Oh wow!” He exclaimed as he ran his fingers over the material,
stroking the embroidered heart, “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

His reaction caused Harry’s heart to clench in his chest. It’s just a jumper from a hospital gift store,
not like it’s anything special. He thought, a little caught off guard.
It was then that he remembered that Louis likely only got gifts from Liam on his birthday or any
other holiday that warranted it, that he wasn’t used to small, random acts of kindness. It was just
another thing Harry could see himself fighting to change. God, he’d spoil Louis until the boy
begged for the endless flow of gifts to stop.

“To replace the one you lost.” Harry said easily, though inside he felt warm.

Louis beamed at him, “I lo-” He choked, his eyes widening momentarily before he looked back at
the jumper, “I love it, thank you, H.”

Harry felt as if his own heart had lodged itself in his throat during that brief pause, his hands
tightening on the steering wheel. “You’re welcome.” He said at last, his voice hoarse.

Zayn and Niall had come into the office just as Harry had gotten the call from Sarah.

They all sat in silence and watched Louis fight to draw air into his lungs as he clung to Clifford.
Harry had wrapped his arms around his waist and settled beside him on the floor, doing his best to
offer any comfort he could. He felt helpless, Louis was inconsolable as sobs wracked his chest.

The heart had belonged to a labradoodle. Like Clifford.

Harry was torn between slamming his fist through the wall and holding Louis as tightly as possible.
Niall and Zayn were sitting on the floor across from them, a slight distance away so as not to crowd
him. He’d only let Harry near him when the panic attack had started. He’d gotten Louis to take his
pills quickly, though it just felt like a waiting game now.

“Lou,” Harry murmured into his ear, “What if…what if you go stay with my mom for a while. I’ll
send Booth with you -”

Louis made a pained sound and buried his face closer into Harry’s neck, shaking his head firmly as
he gripped onto the agent’s sleeves. He felt powerless at that moment. All he wanted was to get
Louis as far away from this mess as possible.

“I think it might be for the best.”

“H-Harry, please d-don’t.” Louis whimpered. Clifford whined and pushed himself onto Louis’ lap.

Zayn cleared his throat, “To be fair, Harry…Would you be able to focus on the case if Louis
wasn’t within reach?”

Harry bit his lip. He hadn’t considered how the boy’s absence would affect him, if he’d be able to
sleep at night not knowing whether Louis was doing the same. To be in his home and not hear
Louis moving around in the kitchen making tea, or the familiar clips of Clifford’s nails on the
hardwood floors. Having an entire ocean separating them. Those small, inconsequential things had
become comforts to him, they eased his wayward thoughts from spiralling to places best left in the
dark, untouched.

Instead of answering he pulled Louis closer and kissed his cheek.

“I, uh, I looked for some connections between the receipts and the Psychiatric hospitals…he
must’ve used a different name for both. We’re still running them but -”

“Another dead end.” Harry said darkly, cutting Niall off.

“Liam should be here any minute, maybe he might remember something.”

Louis slowly pulled away the warm crook of Harry’s neck and faced Zayn, he sniffled lightly and
wiped at his nose with his sleeve. Harry motioned for Niall to pass him the tissues on his desk,
then offered them to Louis. After he’d blown his nose and mopped at his eyes he cleared his
throat.

His voice was raw when he spoke, “We weren’t that high up in the cartel, I started out as a runner
and then became a distributor. That’s when I met Li, we hardly ever dealt with the bigger clients.
The only reason I was able to get so much on them was because no one really noticed me, I’d
sneak into rooms and shit.”

Zayn’s phone vibrated and he excused himself from the room swiftly. Niall’s blue eyes flicked
thoughtfully to the board, his eyebrows pinched.

“Do you know what the rest of them did?” He asked.

Louis looked over at the faces on the board and licked over his lip ring, “I hardly knew any of
them. I think I’d briefly had a conversation with Hasan, he was kind of…” Louis nodded to the
word beneath: Michael Lee - Hostile.

“So at least we know the Angel Killer had picked his victims for similar offences and not only their
appearances.” Niall hummed.

“His psychosis would’ve prevented him from doing otherwise.” Zayn said as he stepped into the
room, Liam followed behind.

He frowned when he spotted them on the floor, his eyes settling on Louis.

“Lou?” He asked, and came to his side slowly.

“I’m okay,” Louis said, rubbing his nose. Harry’s hand was still settled on his back, rubbing
soothing circles, he hadn’t even realised he’d been doing it.

“Zayn said you need information on the cartel?” Liam asked, looking from Niall to Harry as Zayn
joined them. They must’ve looked rather odd to anyone else, three agents in their suits huddled
around a man in a lavender jumper with a large labradoodle in his lap and a buff bartender in a
flannel button down and a gold chain around his neck, all sitting in a circle on the floor.

Zayn leaned over to grab his notebook from his bag and flipped it to a clear page, “So we believe
the Angel Killer was a part of the gang.” He started making notes.

Liam sucked in a sharp breath, when his eyes landed on the board with the crime scene photos he
blanched and paled instantly, averting his gaze. “Uh, wow. Okay…”

Niall shifted closer, “Do you possibly remember any of the men running the organised crime side
of the cartel? Beyond the drug-trade, anyone that would’ve been scoping the market, or trying to
funnel funds or information from larger corporations for blackmail purposes?”

Liam hummed, scratching at his jaw, “I mean…there was this one room where a tech-expert
worked…dunno if he was a hacker. The door was always shut.”

Harry frowned, “You never saw the room?”

Liam shook his head. “Just wasn’t allowed in there, rumour was the guy was kind of off.”
Louis’ eyes flew wide, “Oh God, I remember hearing about him, he was like a conspiracy theorist
or something right?”

“Kind of? Malcolm said he was just overly cautious, and didn't trust anyone.”

Malcolm Oliveira had been the kingpin of the entire cartel, Harry remembered the day in court
when he’d been brought in. Charge after charge had been listed against him, he’d owned three
prostitution rings and while the Portland cartel was his largest, they’d managed to find several
more scattered across the country that he’d run. He’d been a sullen, quiet man, his black eyes sharp
as they ran over the courtroom, settling on every single agent as if he were memorising their faces
in that moment.

Louis shivered, as if recalling the man’s dead stare as well.

“I remember walking past the office once, think I’d be a little unhinged too with that repetitive
ticking all the time.” Liam huffed.

Everyone froze, the moment felt suspended as Liam’s words settled around them. Even though
they already knew the Angel Killer had been a part of the gang in theory, it was another thing to
have that confirmed.

“Fuck,” Niall breathed.

“What?” Liam asked, confused, puppy dog eyes swinging to Zayn who patted his thigh.

“He has this thing with clocks.” Louis murmured.

“Well yeah, Malcolm called him Tick. He carried a pocket watch everywhere he went,
apparently.”

Louis cleared his throat, “I meant the Angel killer.”

“Have you ever heard his name?” Harry hurried to ask.

“I…I really can’t remember, I might’ve seen him though for like a split-second.” Liam added, “If
you have any pictures I could try to take a look?”

Zayn shook his head, “We don’t yet but as soon as we do we’ll bring you in to look at them. Might
be some patients from the hospital.”

“Could you describe him?” Harry asked, he knew he was pushing but he couldn’t help himself, it
felt like they were so close.

Liam pursed his lips in thought, “Uh…well he was big, like really tall - maybe six-two, six-three?
Built, big shoulders…military haircut.”

Louis shifted beside him, his face paling. Harry wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him
closer, letting his thumb trail over the exposed skin of his hip bone. Louis shivered at the touch, his
breath hitching in his throat.

“We’ll keep an eye out for anyone matching that description in the medical files.” Niall nodded,
slowly rising to his feet.

Zayn and Liam followed shortly after, “The heart was a warning, are we expecting further
retaliation?” Zayn asked Harry.
“Let’s just all keep an eye out, Liam I’ve arranged a protection detail for you - just in case.” Harry
said.

Louis squeezed his thigh in appreciation as Liam nodded his thanks.

“How was the art exhibition?” Louis asked him.

Zayn blushed, “Uh, yeah, good.”

Liam smirked as he looked at the profiler, “It was brilliant.”

Harry sent Louis a discreet wink, causing him to giggle into his shoulder.

“What are you smiling about?” Harry asked Louis. It was later in the evening and they were curled
up on the couch, their empty dishes resting on the table while the hum of the television played
some sitcom he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to. He’d been too distracted by the way the
flashing light had played over Louis’ skin, how they illuminated the tips of his eyelashes.

Currently Louis was nibbling at his lip ring, the tips of his toes tucked under Harry’s thigh for
warmth and his one hand twirling Clifford’s ear while the other held his lit up phone. He was
reading something that had a grin stretching across his lips. Louis’ eyes flicked up at the sound of
his voice, a small, excited sound escaping him on a breath.

“Ryan just got back to me about my last edit, they’ve approved it.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke.

Harry raised his brows and shifted fully to face him, “What? That’s fantastic, Lou!”

“Yeah?” He giggled, “Thought you didn’t like my fiction books.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Please don’t remind me of my own idiocy, it’s embarrassing.”

Louis cackled, shaking his head. Harry had managed to read two of Louis’ books during the week
he’d spent there, much to Louis’ mortification. Harry hadn’t stopped raving about them.

“This is the one with the devastatingly gorgeous FBI agent right?”

It was Louis’ turn to roll his eyes, “The FBI agent might be worth a double-take at best, besides, I
thought it was the clairvoyant that was devastatingly gorgeous?” He murmured that last part,
cheeks pinkening slightly at the bold question.

Harry hummed, running the tips of his fingers over Louis’ ankle, watching how it made him
shiver, “Is that what I said?”

Louis chuckled, “Maybe it was another FBI agent.”

“Must’ve been, a ‘double-take at best’ doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”

“No?” Louis challenged.

Harry sent him a smirk, “I bet you didn’t kill him off in chapter six.”

Something in Louis’ eyes flashed in that, “You remember that?”

His hand stilled it’s ministrations at the soft way Louis had asked the question, he scoffed. “I don’t
think anything you’ve ever said could be considered forgettable, Lou.”

Louis blinked, the smile slowly slipping from his lips as he stared at Harry, “I think that’s the
nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Harry shook his head at that, “How’s that possible?”

Louis frowned, “What do you mean?”

He slowly started stroking his thumb over the skin of Louis’ ankle bone, he watched his hand as he
spoke, “I’ve never met anyone like you,” He murmured after the silence had drawn out too long
while he thought, “You have this way about you…this need to constantly treat every person you
meet with instant kindness, to afford them the benefit of the doubt - even those who’ve wronged
you or hurt you. Your heart’s so big,” He chuckled, “I was so against you in the beginning, it’s
been nearly a month now and you’ve completely flipped my perspective on everything.”

Louis had sat silently, staring at Harry as he spoke, his eyes wide.

“I made so many mistakes when it came to you, I pushed you away or put you down, belittled your
pain,” Harry withdrew his hand, “It’s because you’re so good that you could even consider
forgiving me.”

Louis sighed and sat forward, slipping his hand easily into Harry’s, his eyes were fierce when they
met Harry’s own, “I knew why you were doing it, Harry. I understand why you felt the need to
keep me at arms’ length.” Harry sucked in a sharp breath at the exact phrasing, “But you give me
far too much credit, and yourself not enough. You were the first person, maybe besides Liam, that
ever looked beyond my gift. You treated me like a person first, you challenged me - I mean I’ve
never been so bold in my confrontations before until I met you.”

They both chuckled at that, sharing soft smiles.

“You’re a good person.” Louis continued a moment later, squeezing Harry’s hand meaningfully,
“What happened with…with your dad - that’s not the standard, you know? It’s not some
prerequisite to the expectation of your life. It may have had a hand in who you are today, but it
doesn’t set the precedent. We choose our own paths, and forge our own futures, not our parents and
their actions.”

Harry sighed, “God, what my dad did…it doesn’t even compare to what you’ve been through with
your mum, yet I let it dictate my relationships, my work.”

Louis hummed, “There’s no comparison, trauma is still just that: trauma. We all respond to things
differently. At the end of the day it’s still a form of abandonment. I coped by becoming a recluse
and you made your work a priority, neither is wrong,” He shrugged lightly, “possibly not all that
healthy, but if it worked for you and helped you? That’s all that matters.”

“I’d like to be more open…now that my sister’s pregnant, I think it’s important to be more
involved.”

Louis smiled softly, the glow from the television and the moonlight at his back casting him in hues
of blues and oranges, “Christmas would be a great place to start.”

Harry hesitated, biting at his lip, “What about you?”

“Hmm?” Louis asked, looking up from where he’d been tracing shapes through Clifford’s shaggy
fur.
“What are you doing for Christmas?”

Louis blinked at the question, “Oh…uhm.” He curled his arm around his knees, withdrawing his
hand from Harry’s, and looked back down at Clifford while sucking lightly on his bottom lip,
“Well, normally we, uh, play a bit in the snow. Bake s-some cookies or -”

“We?”

Louis blushed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch, “Clifford and I and, uhm, s-sometimes Li…”
He shrugged, swallowing.

Harry took Louis’ hand back in his own and stroked his thumb over his knuckles, his heart aching,
“Come with me.” He said. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders at the offer,
putting his need for Louis to be with him out in the open.

Louis looked up at him quickly, lashes fluttering, and Harry could swear the blues of his eyes
glowed, “I - what?”

“Come home with me for Christmas.”

Louis started, his mouth agape in surprise, he snapped it shut quickly and cleared his throat, “B-but
what about your family? Liam’s parents don’t like me all that much, because of my past…I don’t
want to, like, inter -”

“They already know about you, Lou.” Harry murmured, feeling irrational anger towards Liam’s
family burn in his gut.

Louis looked him over, and Harry knew he was reading him, sensing whatever lay beyond. He
waited patiently, smiling softly.

“You spoke to your mum about me?”

Harry shrugged, “My sister probably knows too, mum’s a gossip.” he rolled his eyes fondly,
“they’d love to meet you.” He didn’t even have to ask his mum to know it was the truth.

“Really?” Louis asked softly, almost awed.

He couldn’t handle it anymore, the soft touches, the gentle lilt of Louis’ voice. How surprised he
seemed that anyone would want to know him or invite him over for dinner. So Harry did the only
thing he could think of at that moment, he pulled Louis into his lap. Louis yelped in surprise, his
eyes wide as he settled his knees on either side of Harry’s hips, his bum in the cradle of Harry’s
thighs. God, it felt so right to have him there like that, so close that his cedar, citrus and vanilla
scent filled the small space between them.

He settled his hands on Louis’ hips, “I really wish you’d stop doubting yourself.”

“Pot, meet ket -”

Harry claimed Louis’ lips with his own, shutting him up swiftly. There was no point fighting it
anymore, the growing need that had overtaken him. Louis gasped softly into his mouth, his body
turning pliant at the soft brush of lips. He hummed lightly as he laced his hands into Harry’s curls,
shifting closer. Louis tasted like his tea, sweet and rich and warm. Harry slipped his fingers under
his jumper, trailing his nails over the soft skin of his hips, squeezing it lightly.

Louis arched his back, shivering at the sensation, he nibbled lightly on Harry’s bottom lip and
Harry opened for him easily. A moment later Louis’ tongue swept in, licking over his own before
flicking against his palate. Heat surged up his spine at the teasing, he curled his own hand around
the side of Louis’ neck, and took control of the kiss. The press of his cool lip ring sent frissons of
desire thrumming through his veins.

“Harry,” Louis moaned as he rolled his hips down onto Harry’s own. Harry hummed, he could feel
his own erection pressing against his zipper, the need for any kind of friction made his skin prickle
with anticipation. When their lips broke apart, Harry sucked wet kisses into Louis’ neck, over his
throat. He pulled at the soft skin, sucking it into his mouth, picturing his lips leaving a mark on
Louis. Claiming him. Louis gasped, the sound falling into a low moan as he rolled his head back,
exposing more of his throat.

Harry pulled back and felt something feral surge in his chest at the sight of the purpling mark,
Louis leaned down and claimed his lips again, a touch more desperate. His fingers fell to the
buttons on Harry’s shirt, and when they trembled Harry took over and popped them all open
swiftly. Louis pushed the shirt off over his shoulders, sinking lower to nip at his newly exposed
chest. Harry moaned lowly when Louis sucked at his nipple, his lip ring glinting in the faint light
as his teeth grazed over the raised nub. He shifted to the other, his hands running down Harry’s
sides, over his abdomen before settling on his belt buckle.

He pulled off of his nipple with a sound, his eyes were dark, his cheeks slightly red and his lips
were wet as he looked up at him through his lashes. Harry hadn’t even realised Louis was now
kneeling between his spread knees.

“Can I suck you?” He murmured, his voice already sounded wrecked.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, nodding quickly, “Fuck, yes, please.”

Louis reached forward and seized his belt, flicking it open with practised ease and whipping it out
from the loops. The sound sent a thrill down Harry’s spine, he breathed deeply when Louis
unzipped his trousers. He sent Harry a smirk before pulling them, along with his pants, down.

Harry’s cock twitched at the sight of Louis’ face so close to him, “Fuck,” Louis breathed and then
he ducked lower and licked at the precome that had already spilled from the tip. Harry made a
sound in the back of his throat, his head falling back against the pillows before he quickly looked
down again, not wanting to miss a second of it.

“God, you're big. Want you to fuck me.” Louis said.

“Christ, Lou.” Harry groaned.

Louis smirked again, and then he was licking Harry from base to tip, he hummed when he closed
his lips over the tip, licking at the slit. He pulled off and sucked kisses along his base, wrapping a
small fist around it before taking him down again. Harry panted as Louis started pumping his hand
and sucking simultaneously. His mouth was hot and wet and perfect, the suction made his thighs
tingle and quiver on either side of Louis’ bobbing head. He curled his hands into Louis’ hair and
lightly pumped his hips upwards.

“This is going to be over embarrassingly fast.” Harry choked out.

Louis inhaled sharply through his nose and this time he took Harry down further and swallowed
around his cockhead.

“Fuck,” Harry moaned, his hips pumping up instinctively. Louis hummed and the sensation felt
fucking devasating. His head dipped lower as he took Harry down further and further, adjusting to
the girth. He tapped Harry’s hip a moment later and Harry thrust up into his wet heat, his eyes
rolling into the back of his head as he tightened his grip on Louis’ soft hair. He could feel his spit
trickle down to his balls and the squelching sound that filled the quiet harmonised with his moans.
He’d never gotten it so fucking good.

He pulled Louis up a moment later though, just as the heat in his gut became impossible to ignore.

Louis looked up at him questionly, his hand made to wrap around Harry’s cock again but Harry
batted it away quickly, “Want to fuck you, Lou.”

Louis’ dark eyes widened momentarily and then he was nodding, “God, yes.”

Harry tucked himself into his pants before putting his hands under Louis’ armpits and hoisting him
up into his arms. Louis giggled as he wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist. A second later he
started nipping at Harry’s neck while he walked, trailing feverish kisses up to his ear, he sucked at
his earlobe, his lip ring grazing the soft skin.

“You’re distracting me from getting you to bed.” Harry murmured, pulling back to claim Louis’
lips. He stopped for a moment, losing his focus as he pushed Louis’ back into the wall of the
hallway, his tongue licking into Louis’ mouth.

Louis moaned when Harry caught his wandering hands and held them above his head, keeping him
trapped in place as he took his mouth. The sound went straight to Harry’s cock, reminding him of
his original purpose. Clifford barked suddenly and they broke apart, he was standing at the end of
the hallway wagging his tail as he watched them.

“Cliff, be a good boy.” Louis said. The dog titled his head before he rushed past them and into the
bedroom. Harry heard the sound of tinkling coat hangers before silence settled once more.

He raised a questioning brow at Louis as he lifted him from the wall and carried him towards the
room.

“It’s, like, a code. He goes into my closet and hides if I say that. Should give us some privacy.”

Harry grinned, “That’s brilliant.” he murmured, kissing Louis’ lips lightly. Only it didn’t stay light,
because Louis chose to suck at his bottom lip. Harry stumbled towards the bed before they both
tipped over onto it. Louis’ legs were spread beneath him, his thighs on either side of Harry’s hips.
Louis giggled into his mouth, though it soon turned into a moan when Harry thrust against him.

When he made to pull Louis’ jumper over his head, the boy froze.

Harry’s finger’s stilled as he looked down at him, “What’s wrong?”

Louis blushed and nibbled at his lip, causing Harry to frown, “I…I can keep it on if you prefer? I
know my back’s kind of -”

“Baby,” Harry whispered, then kissed him lightly because he was too weak not to, “Everything
about you is beautiful to me.

Louis swallowed thickly, his luminous blue eyes travelling over Harry’s face, slowly he lifted his
hand and stroked his thumb just beneath his eye, a shy smile spreading over his cheeks.

“And you’re enough , H.” Louis whispered, his eyes meaningful.

Harry felt his heart swell in his chest as he stared down at him, suddenly overwhelmed with the
amount of emotion swarming him, he leaned down and claimed Louis’ lips again. The kiss was
bruising as he coaxed Louis’ mouth open and shifted to grind against his hips. Louis arched his
back, groaning as their clothed erections rubbed together.

“Take it off, all of it.” Louis murmured, “Want you.”

Harry pulled his jumper off and sat back to pull down his sweats and pants. Louis’ cock slapped
lightly against his tummy, and he quickly leaned down to mouth at the plushness of his thighs. He
felt ravenous at the sight of so much golden skin exposed to him.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby.” He murmured. His lips trailed up to Louis’ stomach and he
bit into the softness there, making Louis whine, “Want to taste you first.” Harry said against it. He
hooked his hands behind Louis’ knees and spread his legs further apart, nosing at the crease by his
thigh. Louis’ scent was stronger here, rich and mouthwatering.

Louis squirmed beneath him, small sounds escaping his parted lips as he arched his back again, his
cock hard and red where it lay on his stomach, precome already spilling from the head. Harry
licked at it, humming at the taste as Louis moaned. Slowly, he trailed kisses down his shaft, licking
over his balls before aiming lower. Louis’ pink hole fluttered as he breathed over it.

“Harry” Louis cried out, “Please, I -”

“Shh, I’ve got you.” He said, before licking over his rim. Louis’ body stilled, his eyes squeezing
shut, and then he exhaled sharply, his body melting into the sheets. Harry lapped over it again and
again, flicking his tongue and marvelling at the sounds it drew from the boy. He leaned closer and
closed his lips over his winking rim, then dipped his pointed tongue into him with a groan.

Louis keened, his fingers flying into Harry’s hair, scrabbling for any purchase as he rocked against
Harry’s face.

“Please fuck me, Harry. I swear to God.”

Harry pulled away and chuckled, his voice hoarse.

“Condoms and lube?”

Louis flicked his wrist weakly to the bedside drawer, and Harry hurried to grab the supplies. He
discarded his pants before climbing back onto the bed. Louis looked up at him, his eyes filled with
want and trust and burning need.

He dropped the lube and condom beside Louis’ hip, “If only my cock were pink and glittery.” he
mused.

Louis threw his head back and cackled, “Shut up!”

“At least it’s bigger.”

Louis pinched the air and squinted between the small space his index finger and thumb allotted
with one eye as he hummed, Harry laughed, grabbing his ankles and pulling him further down the
bed. It was only then that the light pink scar on his ribs caught his eye.

“Fuck, sorry. Is it okay?” He asked, trailing his fingers over the healed wound.

Louis nodded quickly, scratching his fingers through Harry’s hair as he leaned down to brush his
lips over it.

“Harry?”

He looked up at his boy, feeling his lips stretch into a smile at how beautiful he looked like this.
His hair mussed, his lips already swollen and his eyes glassy.

“Please fuck me already?”

Harry choked on a laugh as he sat back up, grabbing the lube and slicking up his fingers, “Love it
when you order me around.”

Louis was about to respond when Harry stroked a slick finger over his rim. Louis gasped and
pushed down onto it, forcing the tip of Harry’s index finger to slip in. He carefully nudged it
further and began pumping steadily, marvelling at the way Louis’ rim moulded around the joints.

“Come on, ‘m not fragile.” Louis said, pushing his hips down harder. Harry sent him a calculated
look and Louis raised a brow, then choked on his next breath when Harry added a second finger.
He scissored them quickly, working him open. He was so lost in the way Louis’ body squirmed
around his hand that he nearly froze when he looked up, Louis’ head was thrown back, his lips
parted and his eyebrows pushed together. He looked insatiable.

He slipped in a third finger after adding more lube, and curled the tips. Louis’ body jerked as he
cried out, his eyes flying open. Harry nudged at the bundle of nerves again, being sure to keep
pressure against it as he closed his fist around Louis’ cock and ran his thumb over the flushed
head.

“I’m ready, I’m ready, H.” Louis said quickly, as a tear slipped from his eye. Harry sat up quickly
and leaned over to peck his lips before he grabbed a condom. His own cock was likely purple at
this point, though he’d admit only to himself that he could’ve come untouched just watching Louis
writhe on his fingers. Louis watched him with hungry eyes as he ripped it open with his teeth, he
rolled it on and slicked himself up quickly, his eyes fixed on the boy, running over his body, his
invitingly spread legs.

Louis twisted and grabbed a pillow, shoving it under his hips and parting his legs once more as
Harry settled over him, lining up with his hole. He shivered when the tip of his cock breached
Louis’ entrance, the hot, pulsing heat already claiming him, pulling him in. With a moan he sank
into Louis’ body slowly.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

Louis’ hummed, his eyes drowsy as he arched his back and tilted his hips upwards, “Feel’s so
good.”

He paused once he’d bottomed out and Louis shifted beneath him, his hole clenching.

“You can move.” Louis said, shifting his hips again and causing Harry to choke on his inhale.
Slowly he pulled out, and then pushed back in, watching the way Louis’ body stretched to
accommodate him. He was still wary of Louis’ healing wound and kept his thrusts light, and as if
noticing this Louis rocking his hips up sharply to meet him.

“Fuck me.” He growled.

Harry met his eyes, seeing the familiar spark of challenge in the blue and letting it ignite his own.
He snapped his hips forward and thrust hard, pushing Louis up slightly on the mattress. Louis
 moaned, meeting it quickly and it was like nothing Harry had ever experienced before. Sure, he’d
had lovers in the past but no one compared to the absolute dream of a man he was currently
pounding into. His own moans swelled with Louis’ breathy ah-ah-ah’s , making his gut tighten and
coil with heat. His nails bit into Harry’s shoulders, and he grunted at the pleasure-pain-like
sensation that flashed through him.

Louis licked over his lip ring and sent Harry a smirk that had him wrapping his lubed up hand
around his cock tightly in punishment. He pumped him fast, matching the pace of his thrusts and
when he shifted his hips a touch, Louis cried out. He thrust down again, aiming for Louis’
prostrate dead on as he worked him over.

A moment later Louis spilled over his fingers with a cry, his body wracked with tremors. The sight
of him, with his head thrown back once more, the purple bruise in the shape of Harry’s lips on
display, had Harry coming hard into the condom as stars exploded behind his eyelids. He kissed
Louis firmly, licking into his mouth once more, hoping that he could taste how Harry’s heart beat
for him. Could sense the words he wasn’t quite sure how to say just yet.

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, their kisses turning to slow pecks as they caught their
breaths.

“You’re incredible.” Harry murmured, kissing over his cheeks, temple, his forehead, down the
bridge of his nose and the dip above his lips.

Louis giggled, beneath him, stroking a lazy hand over his back. Harry kissed him one last time
before he pulled out, and rolled the condom off, he chucked it into the bin then walked into the en-
suite to get a cloth. He returned a moment later to find Louis biting his lip, a shy smile playing over
it.

He cleaned them up gently, then made Louis reapply his ointment to the scar while he washed out
the cloth and fetched Clifford from the closet. The dog sent him a disapproving look and he
grinned proudly. When he got back Louis was under the covers and waiting for him. He slipped in
beside him and pulled his boy to his chest, feeling his heart settle once Louis had curled around
him.

Chapter End Notes

And I oop -

;) xx
 Louis
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

I've been a waiting for you

And you've been a waiting for me

Tell me that you'll always true

And you'll be the only one for me

Forget me not my dear, my darling

Forget me not my love

Forget me not, The Civil Wars

Louis woke slowly, his mind heavy as his eyes blinked open into the soft morning light that spilled
over the bed. He was about to ponder what had woken him when he heard the shift of the sheets,
and then felt the press of soft, full lips as they trailed over the scar on his back. His breath hitched
lightly when Harry’s hand circled over his hip and settled on his lower stomach. The lips trailed
back up to his shoulder and he humed, lazily arching his neck into the pillow as Harry leaned
closed, his head curving around his shoulder to suck kisses up the column of his neck.

Harry’s hand stroked over his stomach, his pinky finger extended and brushed teasingly over the
tip of his cock. He’d almost forgotten they’d fallen asleep naked. He moaned softly and arched his
back, feeling Harry’s own erection nudge between his cheeks.

Harry hummed, “Good morning.”

“It could be.” Louis murmured, his body still felt heavy from sleep, but arousal was rushing
through it warmly, sparking a golden haze of lust.

Harry nipped at the skin above the bruise he’d sucked into his skin the night before, and Louis
clenched his hole, it twinged slightly but if Harry was up for it then so was he.

“Think you’re still sore.” Harry murmured huskily into his ear, the sound sending tingles down his
spine and causing gooseflesh to prickle over his skin. He shivered lightly and shifted back so that
Harry’s hand would slide lower to where he needed it most.

“You could fuck my thighs?”

Harry cursed under his breath and bit down on Louis’ neck in retaliation. Then his weight was
disappearing from Louis’ back, his hand slipping away from his skin. Louis was about to protest
when he heard the cap on the lube flick open. The sound of Harry’s slicked hand squelching as he
pumped himself had Louis shivering again, biting his lip in anticipation as butterflies kicked up in
his stomach.
Harry invaded his space again, his short breaths falling back over Louis’ neck as he slowly guided
his slicked up cock between the meat of Louis’ clenched thighs.

“Make it tight for me.” He groaned and Louis crossed his ankles, arching his back and letting his
head fall back so Harry could continue to claim his throat. Harry’s hips rolled slowly, working
himself up and Louis keened in surprise when a wet hand wrapped tightly around his own aching
cock.

“That’s it.” Harry growled when Louis pumped his own hips, pushing his erection through Harry’s
fist and inadvertently rocking on him.

The sound of slapping, wet skin filled the soft morning silence, their shared moans falling together.
Louis tilted his head to the side, not caring about morning breath, he just needed to feel Harry’s lips
on his own. He didn’t have to wait long, Harry licked into his parted lips on a groan, his hand
pumping him faster. Heat surged through Louis’ belly, his body trembling as his balls tightened.

“Harry.” He moaned as he spilled over his fist. A moment later, Harry followed, his teeth clamping
onto Louis’ bottom lip before easing the sting with a lick of his tongue. Their shared breaths
mingled between them as they came down. Louis pecked lightly at Harry’s lips and smiled softly.

Harry's eyes travelled over his face, his eyes equally soft as he regarded him, he shifted and then
raised his clean hand to fix Louis’ fringe before kissing his forehead. Louis felt his heart swell in
his chest, he opened his mouth to say - he wasn’t sure what, really, the moment felt surreal and
monumental, but it was swiftly interrupted by a huff and a whine from Clifford at the foot of the
bed.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head, he pecked Louis’ nose and drew away, “I’ll feed him and make
your tea, why don’t you go grab a shower so long?”

Louis looked down at the come and lube spread out over his thighs and pulled a face, “Good idea.”
He got up from the bed, revelling in the ache of good-sex in his muscles. He could feel Harry’s
eyes on him and added a sashay to his hips as he walked to the en-suite, his arse bouncing a little.

“Tease,” Harry called and he giggled, sending a wink over his shoulder. A moment later he was in
the shower, feeling blissed out and, dare he say, happy.

Harry was at the stove making eggs when he walked in, the smell of coffee and toast had his mouth
watering as he hopped up onto the counter. Clifford was laying in front of his bowl, his paws
perched on either side as he chomped on the last few bites excitedly. Harry looked over his
shoulder, and spotting Louis, hurried over to hand him his tea. He leaned forward and pecked at
Louis’ lips before placing the warm mug in his hands.

“Zayn called, he said they got something from the security cameras at the hospital. Might have to
head in to check it out in an hour.” He muttered as he tossed ground pepper over the eggs and
grabbed plates from the cabinet beside Louis’ dangling legs.

Louis hummed, swinging his legs, “Can I come?”

Harry gave him an odd look, “Why wouldn’t you?”

He beamed at the agent and sipped at his perfectly brewed cuppa. He shrugged as he set it down
beside him and tugged his sleeves over his fists. Harry’s eyes tracked the movement and he moved
to stand between Louis’ knees, his hands stroking over Louis’ thighs.
“I just…wasn’t sure, like, with Charles being there, and us - not that we’re an us -”

Harry ducked to catch his eyes when he tried to look away, “Baby,” Louis looked up at that, “we’re
an us. If that’s what you want, I mean.” He looked panicked for a moment, as if he might’ve
misread something and Louis rushed to reassure him.

“Yeah, yes, definitely. I want…us.” He bit his lip, feeling his cheeks pinken.

Harry grinned, his dimples popping out before he claimed Louis’ mouth. Louis squeaked in
surprise before melting against him, he raised his hands to drag his fingers through Harry’s thick
curls, hummed when Harry’s tongue parted his lips.

Harry’s hands tightened on his thighs, pushing them open further, but Louis pulled away with a wet
smack, “You’ll burn my eggs, Harold.” He said breathily.

Harry’s pupils were blown when he opened his eyes, his lips red and spit-slick, “Can’t help that
you’re a siren, Tomlinson.”

Louis giggled, kissing his cheek before drawing away and grabbing his tea, “If I recall correctly,
that’s the first thing you thought about me when we met, besides wanting to bend me over your
desk.”

Harry choked on his spit and barked a surprised laugh as he walked back to the stove, “You knew I
wanted you since then?” He asked, his back still turned as he plated the eggs.

“Physical attraction is easy to read,” he shrugged clearing his throat, “I wasn’t sure if, like -”

“It’s been more than that for a while, Lou.” Harry murmured, looking up at him, his eyes clear and
direct and Louis couldn’t look away if he tried.

He licked his lips, “For me too, it’s more - yeah.”

Harry chuckled, “Come on, let’s eat.”

Louis hopped off of the counter and reached for his plate but Harry beat him to it, he only
grumbled a little because the butterflies were far too pleased. Harry pulled out his chair for him at
the oakwood dining table and he rolled his eyes around a blush and a fond smile.

“You’re ridiculous.” He muttered when Harry pushed his chair in after he’d sat down.

“I have a lot to prove.” Harry said as he grabbed his seat beside him.

“You really don’t.”

Harry shrugged, then grinned widely when Louis groaned around his first bite.

“Fuck, how do you make regular eggs on toast taste so good?”

The agent preened and dug into his breakfast, “‘ve got Jamie Oliver to thank for that one.”

“I love that about you,” Harry’s fork scraped against the plate, his eyes momentarily widening
before he cleared his throat and Louis continued, “Like, that you watch cooking shows, and um,
practice when you cook.” His cheeks were flaming by the time he’d finished. It sounded far too
close to the words he’d nearly spoken the day before in the car. His heart was hammering away in
his chest as he reached for his tea.
Harry’s knee nudged against his thigh as he sent him a soft smile.

Louis was once again perched on Harry’s desk, though this time the agent was standing between
his parted knees and his feverish hands were squeezing at the skin of his hips under his jumper.
Louis groaned as Harry’s teeth grazed his throat. Clifford had sent them a desirive snort before
curling back up behind the desk.

“You…ngh…should be working - I” Louis hummed when Harry’s large hand wrapped around the
underside of his thigh and raised it slightly to line them up.

“In a minute,” Harry breathed, dragging his lips across his cheek before claiming his mouth again.
Their tongues met and their teeth clicked light as Louis tugged firmly at Harry’s curls to tilt his
head.

Louis moaned into his mouth, his lashes fluttered, “You should fuck me on this desk some time.”

Harry dragged him to the edge of the desk and firmly against the hard line of his body, “I’ll fuck
you right now if you don’t stop -”

The door flew open and they parted with a smack, their eyes wide as Zayn strode in. The profiler
looked over them, at the way Louis’ leg was still hitched up over Harry’s hip and Harry’s hands
were curled under his pink jumper.

“‘Bout time,” He muttered and pulled a chair out to sit down. Louis cleared his throat and hastily
dropped his leg as Harry fixed his jumper. He adjusted himself discreetly and glared at Harry when
the agent smirked, his eyes twinkling.

“We were just waiting for you to get here.'' Harry said as he ran his fingers through his hair to right
his errant curls.

“Thank God I wasn’t a minute later,” Zayn said with raised brows.

Louis giggled into the back of his wrist as Niall walked in, he looked at the three of them and
frowned, “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing.” Harry said quickly when Zayn opened his mouth, Louis grinned.

Niall shrugged easily and dumped some files onto Harry’s desk, “We got some faces from the
database that match three men from the hospitals.”

Harry opened the files and grabbed the headshots, his eyes flicking over the images, he hummed
and turned to pin them to the board.

“What about the receipts from the hunting store?” He asked.

Niall scratched at his eyebrow, “There was one online order that kind of stood out, when we
questioned the store owner he admitted they’d delivered it to an unknown location and that the guy
was there to meet him and his partner.” He picked up the file and flipped through some pages.

“Description?” Zayn asked.

“Yeah, managed to get a look at the guy. Get this,” He read from the page, “‘ His hair was kind of
long, long beard too, light colour’ but what caught my attention was his partner’s description, he
said ‘his hair was braided at the sides, kind of like that viking from the tv series?’ ” Niall looked
up at them expectantly.

“Well that’s convenient.” Louis said.

“Lou, can you get anything off of these three?” Harry asked, tapping at the photos on the board.
Louis got up and shifted around him to finally see their faces. There were three men, all around the
same height, though neither of them had long hair, the unsub had obviously let it grow out when
he’d gone off the grid. Harry watched him as he studied the pictures, when his eyes kept getting
drawn to the one on the far right, he stepped closer.

“You sensing something?”

The man’s eyes were nearly black in the photo, his scowl looked permanently etched into his
features, but there was something more beyond that. While he sensed an underlying darkness
between all three men, something about the third made his skin prickle, his mind trying to coax an
image to form.

“They’re all…off, but this one,” he tapped the picture and shivered, “His darkness is almost…
manic.”

Zayn sighed, “So the four of us know what he looks like now, we won’t be able to put out an APB
to warn the general public, there’s not enough evidence to finger him.”

“APB?” Louis asked.

“All-points bulletin for wanted suspects or criminals.” Niall supplied.

“We’ll keep it in-house for now, stay on the look-out. Could we pull in state police on this?” Harry
asked Zayn.

Zayn shook his head, “We could ask them to keep a look out for all three, but I doubt Charles
would approve that - it’s too open-ended.”

“Fine, then we just tell the agents on the case.” Harry muttered, rubbing at his eyes. Louis was still
staring at the picture, swallowing hard at the dark eyes of the man who’d almost killed him, had
killed all those people already and had butchered a defenceless dog to send a message.

Harry pulled him away from the board by wrapping an arm around his waist, “We’ll find him.” He
murmured before pecking at Louis’ cheek.

“Oh shit, is this what I missed?” Niall huffed with a large grin.

Louis’ chuckled, poking at Harry’s dimple when he smiled. The door was opened once more and
Harry looked up quickly as Charles walked in. Louis waited for Harry to release him and step
away, feeling his heart drop to his stomach in anticipation, except Harry didn’t move. He tightened
his arm around him and pecked his forehead before looking at Charles expectantly.

“You’re up for review in room two-oh-eight.” The man said, his eyes trailing over the pair, though
Louis couldn’t read any hostility in the gaze.

Harry sighed and squeezed Louis once more before he released him, “Stay here, I’ll be back -”

“I’ve asked one of my guys to escort Tomlinson home.” Charles said.

Harry shook his head, “Yeah, no, that’s not happening.”

Charles met Harry’s eyes, they were firm but almost paternally exasperated, “If internal affairs
sees him in the building without probable cause your review will be over before it’s even started.”

“I don’t ca -”

“Harry,” Louis murmured and Harry’s eyes flew to his face, “It’s okay, I’ll go.”

Harry studied him for a moment, indecision flashing in his eyes, he looked back to Charles, “I want
Booth there too.”

Charles inclined his head with a sigh, “Very well.”

Harry met Louis’ eyes again and turned his body to face him, “I’ll get there as soon as I’m done,
okay?”

Louis nodded.

“Promise me you’ll stay inside.”

Louis smiled softly, his eyes settling on Harry’s lips, “I promise.” he murmured. Harry leaned
down and kissed him firmly in front of everyone, his grip tight around his waist.

“I’ll see you soon.” Harry promised after he pulled away.

The car ride back home was uneventful. Charles’ agent wasn’t too interested in partaking in any
form of conversation, so Louis and Booth entertained themselves. Booth asked about Louis’ book
and Louis admitted it had gone through it’s final approval and would be published within a month’s
time. The agent was thrilled for Louis and spent most of the trip drilling him about the characters
and the plot.

By the time they reached the house Clifford was bursting for a wee, so Louis stood in the cold
wind and waited alongside Booth until the dog was finished.

“Want some tea or something?” He asked the agent.

He shook his head easily, “Nah, Styles said it wouldn’t be too long, just have to give them a call in
about forty minutes.” He said, checking his watch.

Louis nodded and said goodbye as he walked Clifford into the house, he shut the door behind him
and locked one of the deadbolts, in case Booth changed his mind, then grabbed his phone and
activated the exterior cameras. He set out a few more treats for Clifford as he went to his room to
change into some comfortable sweats, they’d forgotten to make the bed before they’d left so he
decided to neaten up the room and change the sheets. He felt a spark of heat shoot down his spine
at the smell of Harry’s coconut shampoo on his pillow.

He already knew tonight would likely be a repeat performance so he tucked the lube and condoms
under his own pillow. While he may not have anticipated the new direction his relationship with
Harry had taken, he wasn’t all that surprised they’d fallen into it so quickly once they’d put their
defences down. Even though they’d only really known each other about a month. Everything about
them felt fast-paced and electric, and while Harry still had his walls up, Louis could sense they
were weakening around him.
When he walked back into the living room, he flicked on the television and found a familiar baking
channel they both loved. He may have stood there for ten minutes with his head tilted as he
watched a man struggle to try to make his meringue fluffy. He’d have to ask Harry later why he
wasn’t succeeding, the commentary was fairly amusing though.

For a moment he longed to have Harry there, muttering annoyances under his breath as contestants
rushed about to finish parfaits or dessert pies. For him it only added to his enjoyment, watching the
agent huff or roll his eyes and then whine to Louis about certain flavour combinations or how he’d
be a strong contender should he ever go on the show. Louis found it endlessly amusing, his
fondness for the man likely shooting out of his eyeballs. He sent Harry a photo of the television
and a sad emoji with a heart. It went through but he got no response, not that he minded, he knew
Harry was likely in the middle of his review. Louis tossed his phone onto the couch as he chuckled
under his breath and headed to the kitchen to make some tea.

The kettle whistled and he hummed a soft tune under his breath as he turned off the stove and then
filled his cup, relishing in the way the steam licked up towards his cool cheeks. Clifford watched
him from his spot beside his empty bowl with forlorn eyes as he turned to grab the milk from his
fridge.

“Harry fed you this morning, don’t even try.” He said to his dog with an eye roll. Clifford huffed
and sank down, his head settling on his paws.

“You love him, don’t you?” Louis murmured to the dog as he stirred his tea. Clifford titled his
head at him and yipped a bark, Louis sighed. “Yeah, me too.” He whispered, more to himself as he
stared out towards the forest beyond his living room. He wondered if it was too soon to feel so
strongly for the agent, if Harry would tuck tail and run should the words ever part from Louis’ lips.
He had an inkling the agent wouldn’t, but he wasn’t quite ready to bet their fledgling relationship
on it.

Relationship. We’re an ‘us’, now. He thought, smiling as he sipped at his tea.

A second later the golden warmth in his chest was eradicated, a cold darkness sweeping over him.
Louis gasped and spun around, his cup slipping from his fingers and shattering over the floor. Tea
splashed over the ground and the bottoms of the counters as he quickly looked down at Clifford.

Dread, dread, dread.

“Clifford, be a good boy!” Louis barked. The dog had jumped up when the cup had broken, but
now he hesitated, sensing Louis’ agitation, “be a good boy.” Louis bit out. The dog sent him one
last glance before he darted out of the kitchen.

Louis ran into the living room and grabbed his phone from the couch, his fingers flying to Harry's
contact. He dialled quickly, and keened under his breath when the call disconnected. He quickly
pulled his phone from his ear to check on his exterior cameras and froze. The link was dead. He
had no cell-service. He checked his wifi but there was no connection either. A moment later a beep
filled the silence and his eyes flicked up to his keypad on the wall in the hallway, he rushed
towards it, gaping at the blinking red light.

It showed that there was movement on the porch. Louis was just about to spin around when the
door burst open, sending splinters of wood shooting across the hallway and snapping the dead bolt
easily. Louis screamed at the sudden sound, stumbling backwards as a tall silhouette filled the
doorway, his figure backlit by the overcast, white light filtering through. It was the man from the
photo, the one he’d sensed.
“Louis.” The man grunted.

A whimper fell from his lips as the man advanced, he hurried backwards into the living room. The
backs of his knees collided with the table and he fell onto it hard before he tipped to the side. The
glass tabletop shattered against him and he yelped, hurriedly scrabbling backwards when the man
kept approaching him. Glass bit into his palms, his own blood smearing over the wooden floors
and slowing his movements as he slipped and slid. He jumped to his feet, steadying himself with
his hand against the glass window behind him, smudging a bloody handprint.

“No, no, no, no.” He choked on his sobs, willing his tears not to blur his vision.

He knew what it meant that the man no longer wore a mask, that he wasn’t afraid that Louis knew
what he now looked like. It meant that this was it. Louis would be his last kill and then he would
likely go off the grid. Louis’ eyes darted around the room quickly, his hands stinging and his mind
throwing up every conceivable possibility of escape. When the man lunged for him, Louis dove
over the back of the couch and then ran around the living room table. He darted around it quickly
and flung himself over the kitchen island, knocking plates over as he went.

The sound of shattering porcelain rang throughout the house as he yanked open drawers, searching
for a knife. His hands wrapped around the hilt of one, just as the kitchen door was flung open. The
man charged inside, barreling straight into Louis. His back collided with the counter and he yelped
at the pain that spread down to his legs before he crumpled to the floor. The man gripped his
ankles and yanked, his large hands tugging at his clothes. Louis held the knife tightly as he
struggled, pitched screams bursting from his lips as dark, black eyes seared into his own.

Hate, malice, vengeance.

Washed over him, consumed him and with a cry he swung the knife up and sliced towards the
man’s face. The man howled as he fell back, clutching at his eye. Louis scrambled to his feet, the
knife slipped from his bloody fingers and he was about to lunge for it when the man rose. Louis
sent it a desperate look before he ran from the kitchen and out into the hallway. The open doorway
was in sight. He could hear thundering footfalls behind him as he burst out onto the porch, he
didn’t hesitate as he ran towards the forest.

His foot caught on something at the bottom of the stairs and he was sent sprawling, his chin
scraping on the rough earth as he spun to look at what had caused him to fall. Charles’ agent lay
there, his unseeing, glazed eyes staring up into the sky, his throat slit from ear to ear. Louis cried
out as he hurried to his feet once more and charged towards the woods.

He was just about to breach the treeline when a sharp pain bloomed over the back of his skull,
black spots clouded his vision as the strike brought him to his knees. He crawled forward for a
second on his hands and knees, disorientation sweeping through him as bile clawed up his throat
before another blow to the back of his head had him falling into the darkness beyond, enveloping
him with mournful sorrow.

Louis groaned, his eyes fluttering slightly as a spike of white-hot pain burst from the back of his
head. His stomach rolled and he swallowed hard when bile filled his mouth. He squinted slightly, it
was dark where he was. In an instant he remembered what had happened and his eyes snapped
open quickly as he looked around. He was in a room, similar to the one from before. The walls
were made of exposed brick and the floor cement, exposed pipes hung from the ceiling and it was
so fucking cold. A whimper fell from his lips as he drew his knees to his chest and the sound of a
scraping chain against the cement floor filled the space.
His fingers flew to the manacle clamped around his ankle, his aching, bleeding skin scrambling
over the links desperately.

Oh god, not again, not again. Please, God.

His breath hitched as tears spilled from his eyes, his lip curled and he shoved his wrist against his
mouth to muffle the sounds of his sobs.

“You’re awake.” A weak voice murmured from one dark corner.

Louis yelped in surprise as he spun to face whoever had spoken, he squinted into the dark, and the
second his eyes made out the face he looked away. Trying in vain to blink away the horrible
premonition that flashed and settled in his minds’ eye.

“Who are you?” Louis croaked.

“My name’s Oliver.” He said, then paused, “You’re Louis, aren’t you?”

Louis swallowed around his raw throat, “Yeah.” he whispered.

“He talks about you a lot.”

Louis shivered, wrapping his arms tighter around his knees and clenching his teeth so as not to
release the cry bubbling up from his chest.

“How long have you been here?” He asked instead, looking in Oliver’s general direction. He could
tell the man had beat him, his skin was marred with bruises and wounds, blood dripping from his
lip and swollen eyebrow.

Oliver chuckled dryly, “I don’t know…feels like forever.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis whispered into the silence.

Oliver frowned, “What do you have to be sorry for?”

Louis remained quiet, squeezing his eyes shut, his mind threw out images of his surroundings.
When one settled he opened his eyes slowly and sank his teeth into his lower lip hard, feeling tears
brim his eyes. He knew what he needed to do, but God, did it kill him. There was only one way to
get a message out.

To get a message to Harry.

“Do you…do you think he’ll let us go?” Oliver murmured.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut once more, the tears spilling over, he sniffed and exhaled hard. “I
don’t know.” He lied.

“At least we have each other.”

Louis looked over to Oliver, his heart breaking in his chest as images of the man’s life spilled out
around him. Flashing like a kaleidoscope of history in bursts of colour. He blinked and looked
away, nodding slowly.

“Yeah.” He whispered thickly.

*
Oliver had fallen asleep.

Louis tore a strip from his shirt and then bit his lip hard as he dug the tip of his pinky fingernail
into the largest cut on his palm. When blood bubbled up, he squeezed at the skin, then used that
same pinky finger to dip into the blood and got to work.

When he was done, he rose slowly, holding his breath as he carefully made his way over to
Oliver’s sleeping form. He paused when the sound of his dragging chain sounded throughout the
room, though Oliver didn’t stir. Slowly he rolled up the material and tucked it into his pants pocket
with trembling fingers, and hoped that the spot of darkness that blemished his soul would one day
repair. That he would be able to find a way back from this.

He allowed himself to look over Oliver’s face, to memorise it, before he made his way back to his
corner and curled up once more.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it could’ve been hours, or days or merely minutes,
when he was awoken by the sound of echoing footsteps sounding beyond the hallway. He made a
sound at the back of his throat at the familiarity of it all. The footsteps drew closer, he could hear
Oliver stirring. The man sat up quickly when he processed the sound, and looked over at Louis, his
large brown eyes filled with fear.

The metal door clanked open, banging against the wall, the sound bouncing around in Louis’ head
as it echoed within the small space.

“Tick, tick, tick.” The man muttered, grabbing for Oliver’s chains and yanking forward. Oliver
yelled as he was dragged towards him on his back, his nails ripping as his fingers clawed at the
rough cement floor.

“Please, don’t do this. I’ll give you anything you want!” He cried.

“It’s time.” The man grunted.

Louis curled into himself, covering his head with his arms as he rocked into the wall, trying his
best to block out the sound. There was nothing he could do, his mind ran through every alternative
but they all ended with both himself and Oliver dead, faster than intended.

“No! Stop!” Oliver screamed as he was dragged from the room.

Louis snuck a glance at the man, and felt something very near primitive delight swell in his chest
when he spotted his mangled eye. The knife he’d used to strike him had carved a jagged line from
his eyebrow down to his cheek. His eye was milky and bloody as he muttered under his breath.

The door clanged shut behind them, the sound reverberated around the room and Louis cried into
his knees. He hoped what he’d done was enough, that Harry would understand. He knew he had to
be strong for just a while longer, that he couldn’t fall apart just yet. He sucked in deep, soothing
breaths to try and calm his hitching chest. He could still hear Oliver’s screams in the distance.

One thought swirled through his mind on repeat as the darkness and the silence wrapped around
him once more.

I should’ve told him I loved him.

Chapter End Notes

Deep breaths loves. Would you believe me if I said this hurt me more than it hurt you?
x
 Harry
Chapter Notes

TW: Blood and Gore

Be safe loves!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Don't let me go

Hold me in your beating heart

I won't let go

Forever is not enough

Let me lay my head down on the shadow by your side

Don’t let me go, Reign

He’d been stuck in this review for nearly two hours now. The woman across from him had brown
hair that she’d spun up into a complicated and tight twist above her head, her glasses sat perched on
her bird-like nose and her eyes were sharp as they studied him. Harry had never squirmed under
anyone’s stare and he wasn’t about to now, not when his mind was miles away, stuck on his boy
and wondering what he was doing.

His phone had vibrated in his pocket about an hour ago and he was desperate to check it, but that
would be unprofessional, and it was that very reason that he was under review, he figured he could
wait it out. The questions had started off easy, about his work history and his accolades, though
they soon ventured into his knee-jerk response with anger and physicality. They questioned him
relentlessly on why he’d struck Richards’ that very first meeting. It was hard to answer that without
alluding to the fact that he didn’t like the man talking about his boy.

He had to give them a play-by-play of the events that unfolded on the day of shooting, and mainly
how Louis had known to react so quickly. He thankfully got to review the footage, to the moment
Louis had looked down at Richards’ hands before looking back up at his eyes. While he knew
Louis had seen the man’s intent through his clairvoyance, the footage could easily be used to show
that Louis had seen the loosened link, so that’s what he told them. He wasn’t ashamed of Louis’
gift, not in the slightest, but he wasn’t going to let them try to pick at his brain should they decide
the boy’s got knowledge on something they might want.

Charles sat beside the woman, his lips pursed the entire time, he didn’t interrupt or interfere with
any of Harry’s retellings. He also, thankfully, didn’t dispute that Louis had seen the link first and
that’s why he’d reacted. Louis hadn’t attacked Richards’ he’d merely shoved his body in front of
Harry’s and braced for impact, knowing there wasn’t enough time to dodge any blow. Watching
the footage still made his blood boil and the breakfast that had settled in his gut turn to ash. He
didn’t regret shooting Richards’ and he made sure to make that abundantly clear.

It felt like they were drawing to the end of their meeting and he was feeling slightly on edge, his
stomach twisting for some unknown reason as he bounced his leg impatiently. Charles frowned at
him but he couldn’t be bothered to curb the reaction. Something just felt off, his shoulders felt tight
with the need to move and his heart had kicked up slightly. He cleared his throat and flicked his
eyes between the two as they chattered amongst themselves, discussing how long it would take to
get back to them on Harry’s status. The woman looked at him and admitted it seemed rather cut
and dry, that the attack was premeditated and Harry acted within his right when he’d assessed the
situation and decided to put Richards’ down.

The only complication was due to the fact that Harry hadn’t tried to reason with the man first,
though because they were in a place where Richards’ was contained, instinct was the only natural
course of action.

Harry nodded, trying to speed it along when the door was flung open, he looked over his shoulder
and felt his entire body still its movements. Zayn stood there, he looked slightly out of breath, but it
was the look on his face that had Harry flying out of his chair.

“What is it?” He asked, his voice sounded strained, almost pleading.

Zayn swallowed, he looked almost hesitant to speak and Harry nearly shook him when at last he
opened his mouth, “Booth hasn’t called,” He cleared his throat, his eyes travelling over Harry’s
face, “He was supposed to call nearly an hour ago.”

Harry pushed past him quickly.

“Agent Styles!” The woman called behind him.

“It’s a personal matter.” Charles hushed her, rising from his seat to follow as Zayn spun on his heel
to chase after Harry.

He moved on autopilot, barely registering that his hands were trembling as he pulled his phone
from his pocket. Louis had sent him a message, it was a photo of their favourite baking channel
with a sad face and a heart. He quickly dialled his number and cursed when it went straight to
voicemail.

“Come on, baby.” He muttered, dialling again as he pushed into his office to grab his keys and
badge.

When the dial tone sounded he tried Booth and got the same.

“Fuck!” He cursed, his breath heaving in his chest as Zayn and Niall hurried into the office.

“We don’t know that anything’s happened, so let’s not -”

“Don’t fucking tell me not to panic.” Harry spat at Niall as he brushed past him to leave, he needed
to get to his car and to his boy as soon as possible.

He could hear Niall and Zayn rush behind him but couldn’t focus on much else besides the
bubbling fear in his gut, the sense that he knew something had been wrong and hadn’t acted
sooner. He should’ve texted Louis back, he shouldn’t’ve cared about looking professional.
Agents watched them as they ran from the building towards their cars and Harry immediately
flicked on his sirens once he’d started the car, his wheels squealing on the tarmac as he tore out of
the parking lot. They broke all traffic laws, Niall and Zayn were hot on his tail in their own SUV as
they sped down the highway.

Harry pulled his tie from his neck and popped a few buttons, his heartbeat erratic as he drove one
handed, still trying to get a hold of Louis on his phone. He tossed it onto the seat beside him with a
curse when it still refused to ring and slammed his fist against the wheel. Frustrated tears pricked at
his eyes and he bit his knuckle to try to keep some semblance of calm. If…if something had
happened then Louis would need him to keep a clear head, he couldn't lose it yet.

When they reached the long drive to Louis’ home Harry accelerated, kicking up dirt and trying to
make as much noise as possible. The spike of dread filled his chest as the house came into view, he
could already see the door, hanging open on a single hinge. He choked back a sound as he pulled to
a sharp halt and flung his door open. He pulled his gun, and though he knew he had to wait for
Niall and Zayn, he just couldn’t. He rushed towards the house, his eyes landing briefly on the body
of Charles’ agent, his throat was slit. Harry stepped over him, and raised his gun as he walked up
the porch steps.

When he stepped over the threshold a pitiful sound tumbled from his curled lips, there was blood
on the wooden floors. He raised his gun to check the kitchen, and felt bile rise in his throat as he
walked inside. A bloody knife lay discarded amongst broken plates, a smashed cup of tea mixing
with a pool of red. He squeezed his eyes shut and drew a deep breath before he circled the kitchen
and walked into the living room. The table in front of the couch was tipped over, shattered glass
spilling in every direction, his eyes tracked the path of smudged blood on the floor and then settled
on the small handprint on the glass.

His gun trembled in his hands as he dragged a ragged breath into his lungs. Niall and Zayn had
come in and were surveying the rest of the house, he could hear them call out all-clears, but he
couldn’t move. His eyes remained glued to the handprint. It was so small. It could only be Louis’
which meant Louis was bleeding, he was hurt and Harry hadn’t been here. Tears fell from his eyes
as his shoulders shook. When a hand fell on his shoulder he flinched and ducked away, only to
realise that it was Zayn, his eyes hard and serious.

“No one’s here, he’s gone.”

Harry’s breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut, his gun hanging from limp fingers at his
side. When he heard the familiar sound of tinkling coat hangers in the distance, Harry’s eyes flew
open on a gasp and he rushed towards the main bedroom. He knew not to hope, really did, but he
couldn’t help it.

He pushed into the closet, and fell to his knees when Clifford poked his head out from between two
of Louis’ jackets, the dog whined as he hesitantly walked over to Harry. The agent dragged his
hands through Clifford fur for a moment before he pulled the dog to his chest and buried his face
against his neck. He allowed himself a single minute to calm his thundering heart before he rose
and guided Clifford out into the room, he refused to look at the bed. The image of him and Louis
curled up there this morning was far too much to bear at this moment.

When he came back into the living room, Zayn’s eyes were tracking over it, his gaze tracing over
the wet footprints. He turned slightly, then walked into the kitchen and hummed.

“What are you thinking?” Niall asked, standing on the other side of the kitchen island.

Zayn’s eyes flicked up to Harry’s own, and when he nodded the profiler bit his lip.
“Judging by the spilled tea and shattered mug, I’m going to say Louis was standing right about
here.” He shifted to a spot behind the counter, his eyes on the ground, then sweeping around the
room, “Either he heard something, or -”

“Sensed,” Harry croaked.

Zayn inclined his head, “He sensed something that frightened him,” Harry bit his lip hard, fighting
to focus, “He dropped the cup and then, judging by the wet footprints, he ran into the living room,”
the profiler walked in the living room and looked around, “He stopped here beside the couch…
why would he do that?” His eyes travelled around the room, then settled on something beside the
couch, tucked half under the rug, he picked it up slowly, “His phone.”

The profiler tapped on it, “There’s no signal, he obviously tried calling Harry,” He muttered to
himself, not registering the internal havoc he was causing within the agent, “Right, okay, so his
phone is out of service, what would he do next?”

“The cameras.” Harry whispered.

Zayn looked back up at him, then down at the phone, “Alright, so he would’ve checked the
cameras. There’s a scuff mark here, looks like his wet shoe pivoted.” He twisted to mimic the
motion and looked up, “He looked at the keypad.” He walked over to the hallway and inspected it,
“He would’ve seen something, I’m sure. I’m assuming he was here when the door was kicked
down, because he would’ve stumbled backwards and fallen onto the table.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I can…should we stop?” Zayn murmured softly.

“I need to know.” Harry said.

Zayn looked at Niall who but his lip worriedly but nodded.

“So he fell on the table and it tipped, the glass shattered, but the unsub was still advancing. Judging
by the handprint, Louis had shuffled backwards and cut his hands up. Then gotten to his feet and
used the window for support.” Zayn walked over to the window and motioned towards Niall, “Ni,
stand by the table, I need to see the distance.” Niall hurried to comply. “Okay, so the unsub is
there, I’m Louis, I’m thinking about my options.”

Harry looked around the room, then saw a small smudge of blood on the back of the couch,
“There’s blood here,” He said.

“He jumped over the couch, tried putting as many obstacles between himself and the unsub as
possible.” Zayn’s tone was proud.

“How’d he get to the kitchen though?” Niall asked, looking at the distance.

They spotted another finger smudge on the counter, “He climbed over the counter.” They walked
into the kitchen again and looked around, there was a discarded drawer lying on the floor, a bloody
handprint on the handle.

“He went for a knife.” Harry said, swallowing hard.

Zayn hummed, looking at the pool of blood, then at a small bloody footprint near the doorway, “I
think he injured the unsub, see here, this is his footstep again.”
“It…” Harry cleared his throat, willing his voice not to tremble, “It could be his blood, Z.”

Zayn looked at the knife and shook his head quickly, “It’s not, there’s blood on the handle.” he
pointed out. Harry’s chest eased only a fraction. “He got out of the house.”

Harry’s head snapped up at that as he rushed towards the doorway, “He might be in the woods!”
He called behind him as he rushed onto the porch and down the stairs.

“Louis!” he yelled as he ran, his heart clawing at his throat, “Lou!”

He was just about to breach the tree line when he drew to a halt near a small pool of blood. A
choked cry fell from his lips as he looked around, the earth was disturbed here as if there’d been
some kind of struggle.

“No, no, no.” He whined, curling his fists into his hair as he crouched down beside the pool of
blood. In the distance he could hear wailing sirens, he ignored it, deep down in his gut he knew his
boy was gone. That Louis was no longer here.

“Harry!” Niall called. He looked over at his friends, they were standing on the porch, Niall held
Clifford’s leash in one hand as the dog barked and was pointing towards the trees across from
Harry. Harry lunged to his feet and rushed over, a moment later he could spot a figure in the
bushes.

“Fuck,” He cursed when he spotted the familiar uniform, “Booth.” He said as he knelt down beside
the man and rolled him over, expecting the worst.

What he wasn’t expecting was a choked groan, his eyes flew wide and his hands clamped around
the slice at Booth’s throat to staunch the bleeding.

“Call an ambulance!” He shouted at Niall, then turned back to look down at Booth, “Hey, hey
Booth, it’s Harry, it’s Styles. Open your eyes.”

Booth groaned, his lashes fluttering before his eyes opened, they widened and he hurried to sit up
but Harry held him down.

“Easy, easy, you’re wounded. Help’s on the way.”

“L-Louis,” Booth choked, his eyes flying above him toward the house, his fingers scrabbling over
Harry’s sleeves.

“He’s g-gone. He’s gone, Booth.”

Booth frowned up at him, then shook his head quickly, his eyes filling, “N-no, don’t say that.”

“The Angel Killer got him.”

Booth's eyes hardened, his nostrils flaring, “Son of a bitch.” he spat. “I saw him Harry, I know
what he looks like.” he added quickly, his eyes widening.

Harry had to fight not to beg him for any information at that moment, his priority had to be to keep
the man still so that he wouldn’t bleed out, “Shh, it’s okay. We’ll get you to confirm the head shots
in the office later, yeah?”

“O-okay, Styles. I’ll do that.” Harry believed him.

*
They watched as the ambulance left with Booth. Forensics had come into the house and taken
blood samples, as well as from the pool of blood near the tree line. Harry stood back with clenched
fists, the need to do something tearing him apart inside. Zayn and Niall stood by his side while
Zayn spoke with Sarah about his theories of how the events unfolded, she hummed her agreement
when he walked her through it all like he’d done earlier.

“Liam called, he’s at the office.” Zayn said once he’d joined them again, “We should get back, see
if he recognizes the man in the photo that Louis pegged.”

“We already know it’s him.” Harry snapped.

“Yeah but if we have an eye witness to corroborate that means we can get state police involved, as
well as an APB.” Niall added.

Harry clenched his jaw but agreed, then followed them out of the house, holding onto Clifford’s
leash for dear life. The dog was sniffing around, looking for any sign of Louis and the sight was
breaking his heart. He looked out over the forest and hoped his boy was holding on.

When they got back to the office, Zayn left to get Liam as Harry and Niall walked into Harry’s
office. He couldn’t sit down so he paced in front of the board, chewing at his nail. Clifford sniffed
at Louis’ chair, then walked to the corner where Louis normally sat and whined softly as he sat
down. Harry scrubbed a hand over his face, willing his tears not to fall. God, he needed to be
strong.

Liam walked in then, his eyes tearstained as he looked at Harry, his lips parted slightly before he
pursed them as if trying to refrain from crumbling on the spot. Harry could sympathise, he really
fucking could.

“I need you to look at these three photos and tell me which one looks like the tech-analyst you
mentioned.” Harry urged, stepping aside. Liam nodded, swallowing thickly as he walked towards
the board. Zayn perched himself on the desk beside Niall and crossed his arms. They all held their
breath as Liam narrowed his eyes. He paused on the picture of the man on the right, his eyebrows
slowly rising.

“Him.” He whispered, pointing at the man Louis had chosen.

Harry reached over and grabbed the photo, “Zayn, it’s time to deliver the profile, call the state
police and all available agents.” Zayn nodded and hurried from the room.

“C-can I stay here? I’ll help wherever I can.” Liam said.

Harry nodded, “Yeah, thanks. Appreciate it.”

“It’s Lou.” Liam murmured, wiping at his eye quickly when a tear slipped.

Harry looked away, swallowing hard and clearing his throat. Niall dragged his hands over his face
and cursed under his breath, then walked over to Clifford and settled on the floor beside him.
They’d have to wait for everyone to get there.

The room was packed with agents, state police were mixed in between and all had been handed
photocopies of the profile, as well as the unsub’s photo. Harry, Niall and Zayn stood at the front of
the room as it fell silent.
“As all of you know, we’ve identified the Angel Killer, we still don’t have a name but what we do
have is a profile, a distinct way to determine what kind of man he is, and how you’re going to find
him.”

Harry stepped forwards, “The unsub has kidnapped his latest victim who was under FBI
protection,” He swallowed hard, “Louis Tomlinson was abducted from his home four hours ago.”

Zayn nodded, “The man you’re looking for is a recluse, he lives in the woods and very rarely will
he leave it. He prefers living off the grid, but he has access to surgical tools and high quality tech
that he likely makes himself. He used a frequency jammer to block cell-service and any wifi-
connection within Tomlinson’s home before he entered. His psychosis is severe, we suspect he
may suffer from schizophrenia and is either aware of it and tries to disprove the illness, or he’s
rejected the disorder that had been placed on him by medical professionals.”

Harry continued, “He believes that Malcolm Oliveira’s cartel had been his community, we suspect
the dismantling of the gang was what triggered his psychosis. The unsub latched onto the cartel’s
norse mythological ideals, they’d named their drugs based off of Norse Gods, such as Tyr and
Loki, the God of war and bloodshed and the trickster, respectively. He believes he is a viking, one
that was summoned by Odin to exact vengeance for his chosen family.”

Zayn cleared his throat, “This man is dangerous, and while he suffers from a severe psychotic
disorder, he’s also incredibly smart and unpredictable. You won’t be able to reason with him, so
should you find him, apprehend him if you’re able to, if not…”

The agents and police nodded their understanding, scribbling their notes.

“So he was at a Psychiatric Hospital during that five year break?” An officer asked.

Niall nodded, “He spent two years there, then according to staff, he checked himself out. We
assume he went off the grid and spent the rest of his time plotting and biding his time. There’s a
probability he had other victims during those three undocumented years.”

Harry hummed in agreement, “We need a search party out in the woods, helicopters - the lot. Look
for any abandoned buildings.”

One of the agents scoffed, “There are over a hundred abandoned buildings out there.”

Harry grit his teeth, “And you’ll search every fucking one.”

“What’s the timeline for victims he’d held captive?”

“Timeline?” Niall asked.

“Until their bodies turn up.”

Harry curled his trembling fingers into fists and crossed his arms as he stepped back, his mouth
dry.

Zayn hesitated, “Just under forty-eight hours.”

“Get to work.” Niall called out, dismissing them. Everyone hurried from their seats, snapping their
files shut and calling to run the unsubs APB.

*
It was well past midnight and Harry was still in his office with Niall, Zayn and Liam. They sat in
silence as they waited for any leads, desperate to be a part of the search but Charles had told them
to let the agents do their work, that they needed to be here if any call came through. They’d been
told that Booth had made it, that his surgery went well and that he was in recovery, he was still
adamant about helping them find Louis, but Harry had told him to rest.

Niall had left just before it had gotten dark and returned with Clifford’s food and some water,
though the dog remained restless and didn’t eat his food. Harry thought back to the last time either
of them had eaten and realised it had been when he’d made Louis breakfast. His heart ached when
he thought of how beautiful his boy had looked where he’d been perched on the counter.

“I didn’t tell him when I should’ve,” Harry whispered. Three pairs of eyes raised to him and he
swallowed, feeling his eyes prick, “I should’ve told him I loved him.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Liam said quickly, “You’ll tell him when we get him back.”

Niall and Zayn remained quiet, they knew, just as well as Harry did, that time was running out and
they’d yet to find anything. That their chances weren’t looking good, Harry fought to keep his hope
from dwindling.

“Louis got away once, he might again.” Niall murmured.

The word might clanged through Harry’s head. It echoed around his mind, down into his chest and
squeezed around his heart like a vice.

“I should’ve told him.” He murmured, staring out the window into the darkness.

Harry jerked awake when his phone rang, he sat up quickly from where he’d fallen asleep at his
desk. Liam was sprawled out below the board and Niall had his head tipped back on the chair, his
legs spread out in front of him as soft snores puffed from his mouth.

Harry cleared his throat and grabbed his phone quickly, “Styles” He said. Niall and Liam stirred
just as the door opened and Zayn walked in with four cups of coffee. He handed them to Liam and
Niall before placing one in front of Harry as he listened to Sarah talk.

Bile rose in his throat as she confirmed what he’d already known, “Right, okay, thanks Sarah.” he
muttered then hung up. Beyond the window, the sun was rising slowly, it was around seven am.

“What did she say?” Zayn asked as he sipped at his coffee. Liam and Niall sat up properly and
turned towards him.

“Confirmed that it was Louis’ blood in the living room and out by the forest, you were right, he
managed to injure the unsub in the kitchen.”

“We should let the agents know,” Niall said, drawing his phone from his pocket.

Harry watched him as he filled one of his friends in on the unsubs possible injury. He looked down
at his coffee, then sighed and sipped at it. Clifford let out a yawn beside him and he looked down
at the dog. He hadn't eaten his food during the night.

“You need to eat something,” He said to the dog.

Liam rose, twisting to crack his back with a groan, “I’ll take him out front to do his business.”
Harry bit his lip, not wanting to part with the dog, but knowing Clifford needed the fresh air,
“Yeah, okay.”

The bartender nodded and picked up Clifford’s leash to guide him from the office.

Niall halted as he spoke, his eyes flying to Harry’s as they widened. Harry and Zayn sat up quickly
as they watched the colour drain from Niall’s face.

“Yeah, text it to me.” He pulled the phone from his ear slowly and hung up.

“What is it?” Zayn asked quickly.

Niall shook his head, swallowing hard, his eyes still glued to Harry’s own. Dread settled in his gut
as he watched the blonde struggle to form words, he almost wished he wouldn’t.

“They…they found a body - in the woods.” He whispered.

The words rang hollowly around him as he stared at his friend. His vision narrowed as darkness
swept into his mind, carving his heart from his chest and ripping it to shreds. Harry felt
momentarily disconnected from his body as he stumbled to his feet, he reached for his keys in a
daze, but Zayn grabbed them easily as he watched him.

“Harry maybe you shouldn’t -”

“Don’t.” He said, his voice hoarse.

Zayn and Niall stood quickly, grabbing their coats and helping Harry with his own, Zayn muttered
something about texting Liam to say they needed to meet with someone.

He let Niall drive them to the crime scene, he wasn’t sure his trembling body would be able to
handle any heavy machinery at this point in time. Maybe ever again. He stared out at the passing
buildings, and let tears slip from his eyes. He wasn’t religious, had never been, but he prayed to
God in that moment. He prayed and he prayed.

Please, please, please.

Not him, not him, not him.

Niall and Zayn sent him furtive glances but he ignored them, willing his stomach not to empty it’s
non-existent contents over the car seats. He squeezed his eyes shut once they neared the woods and
clenched his fists and continued to pray. In the distance he could see flashing red and blue lights,
the movement of bodies and strung up yellow tape.

He opened the door before Niall had even stopped and stumbled from the car, Niall called ahead to
the agents to let Harry through when he barreled past them. He felt a cold sweat break out over his
skin as he ran, an odd keening sound filled his ears, it took him a moment to realise it was coming
from his own throat, and that tears were still falling from his eyes.

He saw the blood first and stumbled, his chest heaving before he pushed himself towards the
strung up body. The flayed back was on display, the ribs spread, the lungs -

“No.” Harry cried as he rushed around the tree to look at the face.

It was a stranger.

It wasn’t Louis.
Harry recoiled from the body quickly with a choked off sound and fell to his knees, emptying out
his stomach in the grass. Relief and disgust warred through him. Relief because it wasn’t Louis,
and disgust because he felt relief that someone else had been subjected to that fate.

Arms curled around his body and he was pulled to his feet, he spun around at the sound of the
voice in surprise, but Charles pulled him into his chest and held him firmly.

“You need to be strong, Harry. Louis will need you to be strong.” He murmured softly.

Harry let himself be held by his mentor, his body wracked with sobs. When his breathing steadied,
he pulled away and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Harry, you should see this.” Harry looked up at Zayn who was crouched beside the victims feet,
his gloved hand poking at something. He walked over to the profiler and cleared his throat as he
knelt beside him, Zayn sent him a nod and squeezed his shoulder.

“Is that a…scalpel?”

“And some kind of hatchet.” Zayn murmured.

Harry frowned, “Why would he leave the murder weapons behind?”

Zayn bit his lip, “I suspect it’s a message…a surrender of some sort.”

Harry’s head snapped up at that, “Surrender? So he’s not going to kill Lou?”

Zayn hesitated, looking at him carefully, “I think it’s symbolic, Harry. He likely has other
weapons, this just means he now has what he wants, that Louis will be his last.”

Harry surged to his feet and kicked at the dirt in fury, tugging roughly at his own hair. Just then
Niall hurried towards them, something flashing in his eyes as he held out an evidence bag.

“They found something in his pocket.” He shoved the packet into Harry’s hands with an expectant
look.

Harry frowned down at the rolled up piece of material with sporadic dots of blood over it, “It’s a
piece of material.”

Niall grinned, nodding excitedly, “Yeah, but it’s the same colour as the shirt Louis was wearing
yesterday morning, and look at the blood. It’s too perfectly spaced, not splattered. I think it’s a
message.”

Harry stared down at the bag in his hand, his heart hammering in his chest, “Oh my god.” he
breathed.

“They said we could take it.” Niall added.

Harry nodded, clutching it firmly in his grip, “Let’s get back to the office.”

They stared down at the unfurled strip of material on the desk. Niall was chewing at his nail, Zayn
was clicking his tongue and Harry was frowning, pursing his lips as frustration hummed through
his body. There was no sequence to the dots of blood, the smudges in between - he couldn’t make
sense of it.
When the door clicked open, the three looked up quickly, Liam stepped inside with Clifford and
shut the door behind them. He peered over their shoulders and frowned.

“What you got there?” He asked.

Harry shifted to pull Clifford back when he tried to nose at the material. “A message from Lou,
found it in the pocket of the recent victim.”

Liam sucked in a sharp breath as he looked at Harry, he shifted closer and fucking smiled tearfully,
“Oh yeah, it’s morse code.”

Everyone’s heads snapped up at that, “What?” they all barked out.

Liam frowned, “Yeah, dots and dashes. We used it in the gang.”

“You can decipher it?” Niall asked eagerly.

Liam nodded and picked up the material, his eyes flicked to the whiteboard before he walked over
and grabbed a marker, uncapping it with his teeth and blowing the cap from his mouth.

“See this here, three dots, that’s an ‘S’. This one, two dots and a dash is a ‘U’.”

“Babe, I love that you want this to be a teaching moment, but we’re on a time crunch here.” Zayn
said.

Liam nodded quickly, glancing down at the blood spots and lines on the material, then placing
letters on the board. Harry watched as the letters appeared before them.

S-U-B-U-R-B-A-N R-U-I-N-S

“Well that’s cryptic as fuck.” Niall muttered.

“Suburban ruins…like a housing development? He’s not in the woods?” Zayn asked, scratching at
his jaw.

Harry stared at the words, a memory tickling his brain, “Paint the door blue and call it suburbia,”
he murmured to himself, repeating Louis’ words from that day before the meeting with Richards’,
though he had the room's attention, “ I’ll find my own ruins … he called the warehouse ruins
during the search.” He ran to his desk and grabbed his phone, “Oh my god!”

“What?” Liam asked, his eyes wide.

“We’re looking for an abandoned warehouse with a blue door.”

Six SUV’s sped away from the Field Office, their sirens blaring as flashing red and blue lights tore
through the city of Portland.

They’d found only one warehouse with a blue door in the northern part of the forest. The state
police were approaching from the opposite direction. They had an ambulance as part of their
convoy, as well as a service-dog strapped in the FBI’s best K-9 vest.

The Angel Killer should never have messed with a clairvoyant. He wouldn’t know what hit him.
Chapter End Notes

We're nearly done, woah! x

 Louis
Chapter Notes

TW: Depictions of violence and gore

It's the last chapter, whoop! :)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I say love

Don't mean nothing

Unless there’s something

Worth fighting for

It's a beautiful war

Beautiful War, Kings of Leon

Louis faded in and out of consciousness, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Oliver
had been taken. He only knew the back of his head was throbbing, that his body ached from being
curled up on the hard floor, that he was cold. Mostly he longed for Harry, though. Longed for his
laugh and his soft curls and his sure, steady hands. He missed Clifford but he was glad the dog
wasn’t with him, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about what could’ve happened if he hadn’t
told him to hide.

The Angel Killer hadn’t hit him this time though, he left him alone. Though Louis knew that was
bound to change. He was so tired, he couldn’t really delve into his subconscious to offer ways of
escape. He could hear the sound of rats scurrying around him, squeaking as they scratched at
corners of the room. He swallowed drily, his cheek pressed to the cold cement, and blinked as a
tear slipped from his eye.

He’d had a full blown panic attack a moment ago, when the silence had become too much. His
breathing had grown shallow and the walls had started shrinking around him, crushing him. He
only felt numb now though, not numb to his fate, just numb to the agony.

Slowly, a plan started forming in his mind, he let it crest and build and take shape. Biting his lip as
he mulled over the outcomes, none of them were great but he had to try. He had to try for Harry,
for Clifford, Liam, even Niall and Zayn - but mostly for himself. He owed it to himself to fight,
he’d come this far in his life, had faced so many obstacles that it would almost be laughable to give
up now.
In the distance the sounds of footsteps echoed. Slowly, Louis pushed himself into a sitting position,
his heart pounding in his chest as the steps grew louder, nearer. He drew his knees to his chest and
waited, chewing on his lip as his eyes flicked about the room. He fingered the manacle around his
ankle, there would be a very brief moment where he’d need to act. He’d have to be quick.

The footsteps stopped outside the door and Louis flinched when the sound of scraping metal
sounded throughout the room. The door swung open with a clang, and Louis slumped weakly onto
his side.

“It’s time.” The man said.

“No, please!” Louis cried, “Please don’t do this!”

The man muttered under his breath as he grabbed the chain and yanked, dragging Louis across the
floor towards him.

“Tick, tick, tick.”

Pain lanced through Louis’ head as he was pulled to his feet and he had to fight to stay conscious,
he couldn’t do this if he passed out.

“Please, stop!” He sobbed, keeping a discreet eye on the man's hands. He grunted, unlocking the
chain from the wall and looping it over his shoulder. Louis watched as he shoved the keys into his
front right pocket.

“It’s time.”

He grabbed Louis’ arm and tugged him towards his chest, Louis used the momentum to fall into
him roughly. The man stumbled and he used the distraction to slip his fingers into his pocket. They
curled around the keys and he pulled them free a moment later when the man steadied himself.

His harsh face filled Louis’ vision, his one dark eye was manic, the other rolled in it’s socket
loosely and he had to fight not to gag as he stared at him. Louis held still, his breath frozen in his
lungs. He felt a tear slip from his eye, and he knew then that the next time he begged it wouldn’t be
forced.

“Tick, tick, tick.” the man whispered, his foul breath washing over Louis’ face. He rose and
yanked his arm once more. Louis pocketed the keys, he’d have to do something before the man
noticed.

He racked his brain as he was pulled down the filthy hallway, their steps echoing.

He sucked in a sharp breath and swallowed, “What time is it?”

The man grunted, his grip tightening over Louis’ arms, “Don’t speak.”

“What time is it?” Louis repeated louder.

“The time, the time…the time.”

Louis watched as the man’s head twitched slightly, as if trying to shake off a voice only he could
hear, “I know that!” he snapped, pulling his pocket watch out from his pants.

“What time is it?” Louis said.

“I know, I know.” The man’s steps slowed and his hand came up to tap at his head, while he stared
at the clock. “the time…is.”

Louis watched as his hold on the chains loosened when he started pacing, creating more slack.
Louis slowly pulled the keys from his pocket, and watched the man hit his own head, as if to shake
the thought free.

“You know what time it is.” Louis said.

The man nodded fast, “I know, I know, I know.” When he turned his back, Louis quickly sank to
his knees, his fingers trembling as he tried to fit the first key into the lock. When it didn’t work he
looked back up.

“Tell me what the time is.” he said again, all the while fitting keys into the lock. The second last
one slipped in, the small click had Louis’ breaths stuttering in his chest. He kept the manacle
around his ankle, as he stood up quickly.

“Games, games.” He shook his head then swung to Louis, “Stop!” he bellowed, shoving the watch
back into his pocket.

Louis swallowed hard and recoiled, his heart hammering in his chest.

“It’s time.”

Louis nodded quickly and made sure to follow when the man moved again, so that the manacle
wouldn’t slip free. His eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail he could. When they
reached the door, he held his breath wondering if he’d made a mistake waiting until then instead of
escaping as soon as the manacle was free. Though something kept him tethered to the spot, he
chose to stick with his intuition.

The man pushed the door open, then grabbed Louis’ arm and pulled him forward, his grip was
bruising around his bicep and Louis had to choke down the small yelp that fell from his lips. He
looked around quickly. The room had tarps strung up around the walls, as well as spread out on the
floor beneath a surgical table. Louis’ pulse stuttered when he looked over at the row of tools on the
tray table. He fought to keep his past memories of a room very similar to this one at bay. He
wondered briefly why he wasn’t blindfolded, he suspected it had to do with the man's deteriorating
and untreated psychosis. He was making mistakes, and Louis was counting all of them.

Ten minutes.

Louis wasn’t sure why the thought burst through his subconscious but he clung to it, knowing it
felt hopeful. Though if he didn’t act soon, he wouldn’t have ten minutes to spare.

“Tick, Tick, Tick.”

“That’s you, right? Your name’s Tick.” Louis said carefully as the man pulled him towards the
table, his eyes flicked down to the knives on the tray table before he looked back up at the man.

The man grunted, “Quiet.”

Louis hummed, his eyes landing on an axe lying beside the table, he swallowed hard and averted
his eyes, “You were a part of Malcolm’s Cartel.”

The man spun on him, “Don’t say his name!” He bellowed.

Louis flinched at the sight of fresh blood dribbling from his mutilated eye. “That looks really bad,
Tick.” Louis said shakily, lifting his hand to point at his face.

He wiped a rough hand at the eye then recoiled, as if surprised that it hurt. Louis glanced back
down at the knives, and slowly shifted his body towards the tray table.

“Get on!” The man yelled, slapping his hand onto the table. Louis hesitated, knowing that he was
trapped the second he got onto it.

Louis stepped backwards, bumping into the table, and palming a surgical blade behind his back,
“P-please, d-don’t!”

When the man barreled towards him and grabbed his arm, Louis spun around, ripping out of the
manacle. The grip on his arm tightened and yanked him back, he used the momentum to punch the
blade upwards and straight into his injured eye. He roared, his arm swinging and colliding with the
side of Louis’ head. Louis stumbled into the table, sending the tools clattering in every direction as
dizziness washed over his body. The throbbing in his head intensified as he struggled to drag
himself to his feet.

The man was still screaming as he ripped the blade from his eye, Louis gagged at the sight of
something white and congealed sticking to the knife. He spun on his heel and ran to the opposite
end of the room when the man lunged for him. His adrenaline flooded through his system as he
pushed hanging tarps aside.

In the distance he thought he could hear the sounds of sirens, but he didn’t allow himself to even
contemplate the reality of that. The room was a maze of tarps and metal pipes, he yelped when he
tripped over one that sent him sprawling, he grabbed at the plastic sheeting and it ripped from it’s
metal links as he went down.

“Louis, Louis, Louis.” The man called behind him. He whimpered as he crawled on his aching
hands and knees, ducking beneath the nearest tarp. He held his breath and tried to move as silently
as possible. He scurried towards the next when the man’s silhouette fell over the one nearest him.

“No hiding!” The man screamed.

Louis stuffed his hand over his mouth to still his frantic breaths, his heart clambering away in his
chest. He heard it then, and it wasn’t an illusion, the sirens. They were loud, everywhere all at
once. Louis felt tears spill from his eyes.

Harry had found him. He just had to stay alive until he got there.

“Loud, loud, loud!” The man screamed. Louis ducked beneath another tarp, and beyond it his eyes
landed on the door. He held his breath, weighing his options before lunging from his hiding spot.
He sprinted towards the door, his hand already reaching outwards when the material of his jumper
drew tight around his throat and he was pulled off of his feet.

He could hear the sounds of pounding footsteps somewhere in the building.

“Harry!” he screamed as he clawed at the man’s hand that was twisted in the fabric of his jumper.

He heard an answering shout as he was dragged to the table, he fought, kicking and screaming as
he was shoved down onto it.

“Harry!” He cried, batting at the man's hands, he looked up into his blood coated face, feeling fury
bubble up in his chest. He wouldn’t let him do this again, he wouldn’t let this man put another
mark on his body. He shoved his thumb into his eye and the man yelled as he stumbled back, Louis
struggled as he climbed from the table, his adrenalin wearing down and his head throbbing
violently. He heard a sound behind him, and spun just in time to see the man raise an axe above his
head. Louis gaped in horror as the man's eye stared back at him, his arms swinging in a sharp arch.

Three loud shots burst through the room. The man stumbled, the axe slipping from his fingers as
he looked down at his chest, Louis followed the motion. Three holes over his heart slowly started
seeping blood, the man looked up at him again, he reached his hand out towards him then
collapsed after a stumbled half-step.

A moment later, arms wrapped around Louis’ body.

“Baby,” Harry choked into his hair, his breath heaving, Louis sunk against him. His eyes were still
wide open as he drew back to look up into Harry’s face, his green eyes filled with so much
emotion. Harry ran his hands over Louis’ face, wiping away tears that Louis had forgotten were
there.

“You’re here.” He whispered in awe.

Tears slipped from Harry’s eyes as he nodded, “I’m here.” He crushed his lips against Louis’ own
before pulling him back into his arms, “I’m here, you’re safe.”

“Thank you.” Louis croaked, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders and burying his face
into his hair.

“I love you.” Harry murmured, tightening his hold.

Louis sobbed at the words and clung to him harder, “I love you too, H. So much.”

A bark echoed around the room and Louis lifted his head quickly, he sank to his sees as Clifford
barreled towards him. “Cliff!” The dog licked at his cheeks as he wagged his tail excitedly.

“Lou, you’re bleeding.” Harry said quickly, his eyes wide.

Louis let him help him to his feet, “I’m okay, though. I’m okay now.” He said, looking up at the
man who’d just saved his life.

~ One week later ~

Clifford yipped as he barreled through a pile of leaves, surprised to find a layer of snow blanketing
the top half. He shook his coat quickly and sent the white, wet flecks in every direction before
looking over his shoulder to see if Louis and Harry had noticed.

Louis giggled, pressing the back of his wrist against his mouth, the snow had settled in overnight.
His dog had woken them with excited barks as he bounded onto the bed, spinning in circles before
he’d ran back down the hallway to the front door. Needless to say they’d gotten the message and
had dressed quickly to take him out for a walk. Louis still wasn’t allowed to run yet, he’d suffered
a minor-concussion but Harry wasn’t taking any chances, so Louis had promised not to perform
any strenuous activity. Morning handjobs and sneaky blowjobs notwithstanding.

The past week had been a bit of a whirlwind, he’d spent two nights at the hospital with Harry by
his side at every waking moment. Liam, Zayn and Niall had been there during visiting hours and
had filled him in on how they’d found Louis. That Liam had been in the office and that he’d
deciphered the morse-code on the strip of fabric from his shirt. How quickly Harry had figured it
all out. Just like Louis knew he would, because Harry had admitted that nothing Louis had ever
said could be deemed forgettable to the agent.
Surprisingly enough, Charles had visited as well, though Harry had kept the interaction short, he
really didn’t want Charles anywhere near Louis while he was still in the hospital and had refused to
leave the room when they spoke. Charles had apologised to Louis for his past behaviour, and while
Louis accepted his apology, he would always be wary of the man. Harry hadn’t been as quick to
accept but he’d remained silent. Likely so as not to cause any unnecessary stress during Louis’
recovery.

Louis had also asked Harry to move in, it seemed rushed to everyone beyond their immediate
circle, but it just made sense to them. Harry didn’t want to leave Louis’ side, and Louis didn’t want
him to. The agent spent most of his time at his house anyway, it only seemed fitting.

Harry’s arm curled around his waist as he tucked him into his side and pressed a kiss to his
temple.

“I got the tickets today, we pulled some strings so they’ll be letting Clifford in the cabin.” Harry
murmured into his ear.

Louis beamed up at him, “Yeah?” It would be his first time on an aeroplane, surprisingly, and
while he was sure he’d be fine he was grateful to Harry for arranging a spot for Clifford.

Harry hummed, squeezing his hip.

“Three whole weeks of vacation, how will you manage?” Louis teased as they walked along the
path, his eyes on the dog.

The agent rolled his eyes, “I can take a break, the holidays just get really busy.”

“You’re a workaholic, nothing wrong with that.” Louis shrugged, biting his lip to hide his smile.
Harry pinched his side and he yelped, pulling away as he laughed.

The agent pulled him in again, halting their steps as he wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist, his
green eyes sparkling with amusement, “Gemma and mum are excited to meet you.”

Louis felt a blush lick over his cheeks, “‘m excited to meet them too.”

Harry furrowed his brow when Louis bit his lip ring, “What is it?”

Louis huffed, it still boggled his mind that Harry could read his mannerisms so well, he hadn’t
been lying when he teased the agent about his possible clairvoyant-tendencies when it came to
reading his needs.

“I just want to make a good impression,” His eyes flicked beyond them, looking over the lightly,
white-dusted trees, “You’re bringing home a boy with a lot of baggage, who needs meds and a dog
that’s -”

“Don’t do that,” Harry murmured softly, his hands slipping under Louis’ jumper and jacket to splay
out over the skin of his lower back, his eyes were soft and sincere when Louis met them, “I’m
bringing home a boy that has the biggest heart, that’s kind and giving and annoyingly self-
sacrificing, he’s strong and independent and I love him. So don’t put him down.”

Louis cleared his throat around the lump, “Damn, I always wondered if there was someone else.”

Harry’s eyes widened momentarily and then he barked a surprised laugh, “You’re an idiot.” He
chuckled, shaking his head before leaning down to peck lightly at Louis’ lips. Louis sank into it, it
felt like it had been too long since he’d really gotten to touch Harry - even though it had only been
the night before.

He hummed in the back of his throat and curled his fingers into the agent’s hair, tugging slightly to
the side to deepen the kiss. Harry inhaled sharply through his nose when Louis parted his lips and
swiped his tongue across his plush bottom lip.

“Lou…” Harry murmured, squeezing at his hips. Louis could feel him contemplating his options,
so he did what he knew would drive the agent crazy, he whined in the back of his throat. Harry
shivered against him before yanking him more firmly against his chest, his tongue licking into
Louis’ mouth.

Louis gasped, shifting slightly to offer some friction against his rapidly filling cock. A moment
later he was slowly being pushed backwards, he smiled against Harry’s lips when his back met the
base of a tree. Harry slipped his thigh between Louis’ own, his lips trailing down to his neck.
Sucking wet, warm kisses over his throat.

“Teasing me in the forest, that’s considered public indecency.” Harry hummed against his throat,
his tongue lapping over the skin of his pulse.

Louis tilted his head back and groaned softly, “Sounds like a serious offence, what are you going to
do about it, Agent Styles?” He asked as he rocked his hips.

Harry growled, his hands stroking over Louis’ warm skin, “You’re obscene.”

Louis giggled, meeting Harry’s lips again. He moaned when he felt Harry’s erection push against
his own. The agent circled his hips in delicious figure-eight motions.

“I’m racking up charges here, you should grab the handcuffs.”

Harry’s hips stuttered against his own as he drew back, his pupils were blown and his lips were red
and spit-slick, he stared at Louis, “Jesus.” He breathed, his voice hoarse.

Louis shivered, rolling his hips against Harry again. The agent shut his eyes as he groaned, leaning
into the motion.

Harry’s lips crushed against his own once more as his hands fell to Louis’ waistband, he pushed
down his sweats and pants and Louis gasped when the cold bark of the tree scraped lightly against
his bare arse. A second Harry licked the palm of his hand before he wrapped it around his cock.

“Harry.” Louis moaned, driving his hips forwards and back, the tip of his cock dribbling precome
and slicking Harry’s fingers.

“That’s it, baby.” Harry murmured near his ear, before sucking the lobe into his mouth.

Louis panted, squeezing his eyes shut as heat coiled in his gut. “‘M gonna make a mess.” Louis
groaned.

Harry made a choked off sound in his throat, then hummed, “Can’t have that.”

Louis gaped when Harry sank to his knees and braced his hips firmly against the tree with his large
hands, a fresh burst of heat flared over his skin when he looked out at the forest. He felt so exposed
and it sent a thrill throughout his body. Thankfully Clifford was still running about up ahead and
wasn’t paying them any attention.

His focus snapped back to Harry when he felt warm lips wrap around his flushed head. Harry
licked into his slit before he pulled back and dragged his tongue from the base of his cock to the
tip.

“Fuck.” Louis groaned, curling his fingers into Harry’s hair. Harry looked up at him as he slowly
sank down on his cock. Louis felt his eyes water at the wet, hot tightness of his mouth, his hips
stuttering forward.

It didn’t take Harry long at all to swallow him down, he set a devastating pace as he bobbed his
head and circled his large hands around to Louis’ backside, cupping both cheeks firmly and
encouraging his motions. Louis couldn’t look away, he watched as Harry’s eyelashes fluttered, his
lips swollen and his cheeks hollowed. Spit dribbled down his chin, and he hummed, the vibration
travelling through Louis’ entire body.

A blinding heat swept down his spine and claimed his gut, seizing tightly and he moaned long and
loud as he came into Harry’s mouth. Harry swallowed down every last drop, lapping at his head,
his eyes fixed on Louis’ face.

“ I’m obscene? Jesus, H.” Louis gasped as he sank against the tree. Harry tucked him back into his
pants and pulled up his sweats before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Louis made a
mournful sound at the wet patches on the agent’s knees but he waved it off as he rose and pulled
Louis into his body, kissing him firmly. Louis marvelled at the taste of himself on the agent’s
tongue, like a claim.

“I love you,” Harry murmured against his lips.

Louis sighed against him, “I love you, too.”

When Harry shifted, Louis felt his erection and hummed, squeezing it firmly.

Harry choked out a groan and chuckled, “I think Clifford’s suffered enough trauma for one day.”

Louis giggled, “Let me take you home, we’ll feed him. That should give us about thirty minutes or
so, more if we close the door.” He winked cheekily.

Harry’s eyes twinkled with mirth, “Don’t tempt me, we still have -”

“The doctor cleared me three days ago, H. I’m fine, I promise.”

Harry bit his lip, his eyes travelling over Louis’ face, “I just don’t want to hurt you, your body’s
been through so much.”

Louis nodded slowly, contemplating, then he shrugged, “What if I fucked you?”

He was surprised when heat flashed through Harry’s eyes, his hands clenching around Louis’ hips,
“Yeah?” He breathed, his eyes flicking from Louis’ lips to his eyes.

Louis grinned, “Maybe I’ll use those cuffs on you instead.” Harry’s dick twitched against his thigh
and Louis sputtered a laugh, “Now you’ve got my attention for sure.”

“Only now?” Harry asked, arching a brow.

“Guess you’re stuck with me, you’ve sealed your fate.”

Harry grinned, his dimples popping, “As if you didn’t already know you’d have a ring by next
year.”
 Louis sighed, though a fond smile still settled over his lips, “You’ll have to work hard to surprise
me for the rest of your life.”

Harry cackled, “I look forward to it, baby.” He murmured, claiming Louis’ lips. Louis smiled into
the kiss. His heart swelling as Harry’s arms circled around him. Clifford bumped into the backs of
Harry’s knees and he braced a large hand against the tree above Louis’ head as he chuckled into his
mouth.

Louis didn’t like surprises anyway. He knew they still had a long way to go, that Harry had his
own healing to do. That was obvious in the way the agent’s eyes always searched him out in a
room, or when Louis would get up in the middle of the night to fetch a glass of water and Harry
would burst into the kitchen a moment later, his eyes frantic, his gun gripped in his fist. It only
happened twice, the second time Harry had sank to his knees on the kitchen floor and pulled Louis
into his lap, his heart hammering against Louis’ soothing palm on his chest.

He’d promised to wake Harry if he needed something from that point onwards, he knew the fear
wouldn’t last, could already predict the healing process. He’d give it a few months, though he
didn’t mind, he couldn’t. Not when Harry had been so strong for so long - for him. So he would be
strong now. He would soothe the agent’s fears and murmur assurances late at night and let himself
be held tightly until Harry felt settled and his racing thoughts would calm. They both had a ways to
go, but they were also endlessly grateful, and happy. Mostly they were happy. They would be fine.

This was all he’d ever need.

Love, safe, home.

~ The End ~

Chapter End Notes

Thank you so so very much for being with me on this journey. To be completely
transparent with you all, this fic was a monster to write and while I loved every
moment, it was trying at times. So believe when I say there were some tears involved!
Thank you for the support and the kind words, I really hope it lived up to your
expectations :)

I decided to post the remaining chapters because of Louis' tour coming up, but mostly
because I empathise with the stress that WIP's cause. So here it is x

I'm your biggest fan dear readers! xx

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