All We Can Do Is Keep Breathing

ALL WE CAN DO IS
KEEP BREATHING
thealmightyavocado
2
CHAPTER 1
take my heart in your hands.
||☤||
“Tomlinson! Rounds!”
A loud, hurried voice echoes down the hallway, jolting Louis awake
instinctually. He sits straight up on the abandoned gurney he’d passed
out on a few short hours ago, sleepily flipping his wrist to get a good
view of his watch.
5:56 A.M.
Morning rounds start in four minutes.
“Shit.” Louis huffs under his breath, hopping off the gurney in an
instant as his groggy brain tries to catch up with his body. He hastily
stuffs his arms into the sleeves of his white coat, bundling up all his
crap and scattered charts and hightailing it down the empty hall.
Whoever it was that gave him that timely wake up call is now long
gone, bolting off to make sure they’re on time. Such is the life of an
intern.
Louis considers taking the elevators, but they always take eons to
queue up and he will certainly be late by the time he even gets onto the
lift. Which means he only has three minutes to somehow climb four
fights of stairs from the basement, cross the east foyer, climb two more
flights of stairs and make it to the surgical wing in time for rounds.
Easy.
3
There have been closer calls. Times when Louis made it to rounds with
only mere seconds to spare, but Louis is never late for rounds. Never.
And although he’s come close more times than he can count, the price
for selling his soul for a few minutes of sleep, he’s never ever late.
Louis makes his way across the hospital grounds, booking it as fast as
his legs will carry him. He spots Niall across the foyer, moving just as
quick as Louis. Out of all the surgical interns in their class at Seaside
Seattle Medical Center, Louis and Niall are always the ones cutting it
dangerously close.
“Morning champ.” Niall nods as Louis scurries to catch up to him,

aligning their rushed strides.
“Hey Horan. You sleep here too?”
“I had too.” Niall sighs, taking in a massive gulp of his iced coffee.
“I've been monitoring urine output from a whipple patient last night.
I only ran out to get coffee. Got you a latte.”
“Ugh, bless you.” Louis sighs in thanks as he eagerly takes the warm
cup, welcoming the sight of caffeine. “God, I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah. You got me last time so I figured I’d return the favor.”
Niall shrugs easily, offering a small smile. “Were you on-call last night?
I didn’t see you on the floor.”
“Ohh…” Louis sighs heavily, recounting the lackluster events of his

highly regrettable evening. “Nah, I had last night off so I went on a
blind date—a horrible, god-forsaken blind date. And you know I already
hate blind dates on principle, they’re cringy and awkward and
just…embarrassing. But, I dunno…I decided to give it a go because
it’s been awhile since I attempted to date anyone and he seemed kinda
cute or cute enough, so why the fuck not, right?”
“Right, I suppose.” Niall nods agreeably, still sipping on his drink.
4
“Not right. Sooo not right.” Louis shakes his head, with wide eyes and
another regretful sigh. Louis knew it was bad when his date happily
informed him that he lived in his parent’s basement and he seemed to
have no plans of ever moving out. Ever. Plus, he was so handsy, they’d
known each other for all around 10 minutes and the man was already
trying to feel Louis up in the cramped booth of the restaurant. And to
make matters worse, the conversation between them was nearly
nonexistent and all the guy wanted to talk about was his extremely
invested hobby of bird watching—which, what the fuck? Bird
watching, seriously? Louis was out of there, faking an emergent page
to the hospital before they even placed their dinner order. “Next time
I go in search of love and validation, do me a favor and stop me, yeah?”
Niall laughs full on. “Will do. Who has time to date anyway?”
“Exactly.” Louis agrees wholeheartedly. “I ended up bailing and just

coming back to the hospital. I was studying up for Dr. Carmichael’s
spinal diversion case because I want to be ready just in case she lets
me scrub in, but then I passed out on the lower level. Literally just
woke up three minutes ago.”
“That’s gotta be a new record, Tommo.”
“Such is life apparently. I like to live on the edge.” Louis smirks.
They approach the nurses’ station at the final moments of 5:59. As

usual, Payne and Malik are bickering amongst each other next to the
other interns in their surgical class, so Niall and Louis easily join them.
“Morning scrubs. Let’s get to it.” Steve rolls by out of literally

nowhere, not stopping or waiting for his interns to follow behind him
with his usual clipboard in hand.
Aoki is Louis’ resident, as well as the Chief Resident. He’s a pretty cool
guy, always laughing and full of energy, but he’s also strict to a certain
degree, commanding instant respect. Steve’s got a bit of a mischievous
streak in him and definitely knows how to cut loose, but when it comes
5
to medicine he is utterly no nonsense. He’s impossibly tough on all his
interns, but he also has the biggest heart Louis has ever seen in a
physician. He just has a way with people, easily making him the best,
most likable resident.
The interns all scamper after Steve as they begin morning rounds
about the surgical floor. As interns, they are expected to stay informed
as to their patient’s varying conditions overnight and to be certain of
that, their resident calls on each of them to orally present their patient’s
chart.
“Good morning, Mr. Griffin.” Steve smiles cheerfully as he and his

interns enter the first patient room. “How are you feeling this
morning?”
“Tired.” The older man, grumbles from his hospital bed, scowling as
he eyes the young doctors filling his room. “You all come in here so
goddamn early everyday.”
“I know, I apologize, Mr. Griffin. But this is a teaching hospital and

we will be out of your hair just as soon as we assess your current
condition. Payne.” Steve calls promptly, turning towards the intern in
question. “Present the case.”
“Um—right, yes of course, Dr. Aoki.” Liam clears his throat, stepping
forward before proceeding to easily riddle off the patient’s chart by
memory. He answers all of Steve’s questions about his patient without
a hitch and Steve gives Liam his assignment for the morning and they
move on to the next patient room.
It goes on like that as they round the wing, checking up on all the in-
patient post-op as well as pre-op rooms with Steve handing out orders
like a drill sergeant.
“Well Mrs. Hahn, it looks like we are just waiting for those kidney
stones to pass.” Steve announces, scribbling something onto her chart
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before turning to Niall. “Horan, I want you to continue monitoring
her urine output and sodium levels around the clock.”
“Ugh, not more urine output.” Niall groans under his breath, pulling
a face as he lowers his head. “God…spare me.”
Steve raises an eyebrow, never missing a thing. “What was that, Dr.
Horan?”
“Nothing.” Niall stands up straighter, returning his face to neutral. “I’ll

get right on that, sir. Happy to do it.”
Louis snickers a bit under his breath and Niall shoves him as they leave
the patient room. Following behind Steve, they move on to the last
patient on the rounds presentation for this morning.
“Tomlinson, I understand you are assigned to this case with Dr.

Carmichael.” Steve says, looking to Louis.
“Yes, sir.” Louis nods, moving forward.
“Alright then. Present the case, please.”
“Gemma Styles.” Louis starts from memory. “27-year-old female

diagnosed with a mixed glioma composed of an anaplastic astrocytoma
and a high-grade oligodendroglioma. As she is also 21 weeks pregnant,
all radiation and chemo treatments have been restricted. We are
monitoring her vitals and brain activity for the possible appearance of
further dividing cells in her temporal lobe. Her latest biopsy showed
no further change as of this morning.”
“Very good.” Steve commends, nodding towards Louis. “And the

baby?”
“The baby is in good health overall—all vital signs present normally

and fetal development is progressing well.” Louis answers promptly.
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“Good.” Steve repeats, looking down at Gemma’s chart. “Gemma,
how are you feeling? Any headaches? Dizziness?”
“I’m alright, I think. A little nauseated.” Gemma smiles widely with a

little shrug. “Nothing I’m not used to by now. However, it would be
nice if I could get a few extra pillows? My back is killing me, it’s almost
like I’m pregnant or something?” She jokes dumbly.
Steve chuckles, smiling back at her. “I’ll have someone get right on
that for you.”
The doctors file out of the room, but Louis lags behind as he always
does when it comes to this patient. His favorite patient.
“You’re falling behind today.” Gemma says, eyeing Louis closely. “Fun
night last night?”
Over the months that Gemma has been emitted to SSMC, she and
Louis have developed a very close friendship. She was transferred in
from a different hospital on Louis’ very first week as an intern, scared
shitless and utterly overwhelmed. They were oddly drawn to each
other from the start, both from different parts of England, in a new
city without any friends or family. They clicked almost instantly,
finding more and more in common every day. Louis considers her the
very first real friend he made since moving back to Seattle.
“If by ‘fun night’ you mean getting my ass groped by some barely
attractive, ridiculously creepy guy. Then yes, I had loads of fun.” Louis
deadpans, rolling his eyes. “And I am not falling behind, I didn’t even
mess up. I know your chart backwards and forwards.”
“Yeah, yeah whatever…but back to this date you had—”
“I told you it was not a date!” Louis protests again. “I left before it
could have ever been considered a real date anyways.”
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“Oh, give me the details, Lou! Please!” Gemma begs, sitting up in her
bed. “I’m trapped in this hospital room, basically tied down to this
bed, the least you could do is tell a poor girl a hot story.”
“First of all, you are not tied down.”
Gemma lifts both of her arms, riddled with various tubes and
monitors. “The chains that bind me.”
“Well, it’s definitely not a hot story.” Louis denies adamantly. “Quite
the contrary, I assure you.”
“Tomlinson! Get over here!” Steve calls abruptly from the nurses’
station outside.
“Yes, right—sorry! Coming!” Louis scrambles towards the door. “See,

you’re gonna get me in trouble.”
“But…my story!” Gemma pouts.
“There is no story!” Louis laughs as he heads out the door. “I’ll see
you later.”
||☤||
True to his promise, Louis is back in Gemma’s room by the end of the
day, folded up on the loveseat sized sofa in her room. As usual, he has
a mountain of paperwork and charts to tackle and it’s become a habit
for him to do his charting in her room. Louis tells Gemma it’s because
she has decorated her hospital room the best and it feels really homey.
But really Louis just adores Gemma and her company and he’d much
rather hang out with her than go home to his empty, lonely house.
From her hospital bed, which she covered in lavender sheets and blush
pillows, Gemma randomly lets out a long, heavy sigh.
9
Louis flicks his gaze up from the chart he’s noting, pausing his pen as
he waits for Gemma to follow up her sigh with a statement as she
usually does. But when she doesn’t, Louis shrugs a little and goes back
to his work.
A few moments pass but then Gemma is sighing once again,

melodramatic and ridiculously loud, practically begging for attention.
“You’re…in a mood today...” Louis comments slowly, peeking up

again.
“I am not.” Gemma answers defensively, frowning a bit as she picks

at her nails.
“Oh, you definitely are.” Louis smiles at her knowingly. “But to be fair,
you have every right to blame it on the pregnancy hormones or the
tumor or something.”
“I seem to have so many free passes to choose from when it comes to

my varying temperament these days.” Gemma smiles back at Louis,
before sighing again and shaking her head. “But, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“Ok…” Louis nods slowly, not quite believing her. He lowers his head
back down to his work, sensing that this conversation is most likely far
from over.
And Louis is proven right in only a manner of minutes as Gemma

throws her head back and sighs heavily for the umpteenth time today.
“Oh for god’s sake, just say it, Gemma!” Louis insists, setting his notes
completely aside to give her his full attention. “What’s bothering you?”
Gemma bites on her inner cheek anxiously, while still picking at her
chipping nail polish. She meets Louis’ eyes sheepishly. “My brother is
coming.”
“You called him?” Louis raises an eyebrow.

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Gemma nods slowly, tugging her lip through her teeth.
“Finally.” Louis says, sounding relieved. And he is; Gemma has been
all alone here for months, flat out refusing to reach out to her younger
brother. It’s part of the reason she and Louis have become so close,
so quickly. She’s come to rely on him in the way she would her own
brother.
“Yeah, yeah—I mean, you kept pressuring me to do it.”
“You know I wasn’t trying to pressure you. It’s just that he’s the only
family you have and I really think he should know what’s going on
with you.”
“He knows I’m sick, but he doesn’t know how bad it’s gotten...and he
definitely doesn’t know about this…” Gemma points down to her 5-
month pregnancy bump.
“How do you think he’s going to take it?” Louis wonders, moving to
perch himself on the edge of her bed.
“Ugh god—horribly.” Gemma groans, covering her face with her

hands. “And in all honesty, I probably still wouldn’t even tell him if it
wasn’t for…”
Louis drops his head, nodding in understanding without her needing

to finish.
Gemma is a high risk patient on all accounts, her prognosis has been
deemed terminal by every professional opinion. Neurosurgeons and
oncologists and neurologists alike, all saying there isn’t much they can
do for her. And because of the baby growing inside her, her condition
is likely to worsen quicker, especially without the chemotherapy and
radiation treatments needed to keep her brain tumors at bay. That’s
why Louis, as well as her primary doctors have been pushing for
Gemma to reach out to her family, she needs the support, now more
than ever.
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“It’s just…he worries so much, about everything, you know? He has
the biggest heart and—I’m afraid it’ll be too much for him…seeing
me like this, hearing that we don’t have much time together…”
Gemma’s voice falls quiet. “We’re so close—we’ve always been
inseparable. It’s just us, we don’t have parents or family—just me and
him. I’m all the family he has left and I...I—he’ll be heartbroken and I
can’t bear to see that. I feel like I’ve been lying to him this whole time
and that kills me, but I…I dunno...I guess I just wanted to spare him
the pain. I’ve made peace with my condition, I’ve had time to
understand it a bit more, but Harry…he won’t…he won’t get it.”
“Would you rather he found out about it without you having the
chance to tell him?” Louis asks.
She shakes her head gradually, head bowed towards her lap. Louis can
tell just how hard this is for her; she talks about Harry all the time.
There’s no one who means more to her than her brother and it’s easy
to see that her heart is in the right place, only wanting to protect him.
But she can’t go through this alone anymore. Not when she has
someone who loves her and deserves to know the truth.
“I know it’s a hard conversation to have, but it’s better if he hears it

from you.” Louis advises, reaching to give Gemma’s hand a
comforting squeeze.
“I know, I know…you’re right.” Gemma nods, still looking impossibly

overwhelmed and nervous. “But I don’t even know how to properly
tell him. How does anyone start a conversation like that?”
“Well how about we practice, yeah?” Louis offers, wanting to be

helpful. “I’ll be Harry, and you be you. Obviously.”
Gemma tilts her head and smiles at him fondly. “You’re so sweet, Lou.
But that’ll never work.”
“Why not?”
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“Because I’m shit at pretending and you already know everything so
it’s easy to talk about it with you. Thanks for offering though.”
“You’re really sure you don’t want to give it a go?” Louis tries again,
leaning forward a bit. “I’m up for it. I bet I can play a very convincing
Harry.”
Gemma laughs, shaking her head. “You’ve never met him.”
“What’s that got to do with it?” Louis scoffs with a shrug. “From how
you’ve described him, I’m picturing Harry as a taller, prettier, and far
more flirty guy version of you with more hair and a better sense of
humor.”
“Oh my god Louis, you absolute wanker!” Gemma cackles in surprise.

“He may have better hair, I’ll give him that…but no matter what he
tells you, he’s not funny.” She says in all seriousness. “And besides,
you love my sense of humor.”
“I do.” Louis grins slowly, holding onto her hand a little tighter.
“Gemma, I care about you, you know? Not just as some kid doctor
assigned to your case—but really, I…I care. And I’m glad your brother
is coming for you, you deserve to have more people in your corner.”
“Don’t get sappy on me now, Tomlinson.” Gemma shakes her head

at him, but Louis can tell by her eyes that it means a lot to her. “I’m
emotional enough as it is. You know how easy it is for me to start
crying nowadays…and also how hard it is to stop.”
“Well we both know exactly how that goes, you’ll just blame it on your
raging pregnancy hormones anyway.”
“Or my tumor.” Gemma reminds. “I told you I’ve got loads of free
passes.”
||✚||
13
Harry came straight from the airport, catching a cab to the hospital.
He hasn’t seen Gemma all year because he’s been backpacking his way
through Europe and most recently France, which he absolutely
adored. He loved the culture and the language, he adored the people
and the food, but the second Harry got that call from Gemma, he was
on a plane headed to Seattle.
Gemma didn’t say much on the phone, only that she’d been
hospitalized for the moment, but Harry isn’t worried—or at least, he
is trying not to be. He and Gemma were always invincible growing up,
them against the world. They didn’t have the easiest childhood,
bouncing around the foster care system practically their whole lives.
Harry always claims he never would have turned out as good as he did
if it wasn’t for Gemma. She likes to say the same thing about him, but
Harry doesn’t think it’s nearly as true. She’s the stronger one, the older
one, the responsible one, she never gives up and it always seems like
nothing could ever bring her down. Harry admires his sister for so
many countless reasons, he’s proud of her without limit and despite
whatever may be going on with her, he’s just so happy to get to see
her.
“Gems!” Harry shouts excitedly, standing under the doorway to her

hospital room. He drops his bags down and stretches his arms out
wide.
“Get over here you big oaf!” Gemma smiles happily, perched up on
the bed.
“Oh my god, you’re huge…” Harry blurts as he gets closer to her bed,
noticing the prominent bump of her swollen belly. “Wait—oh my
god? You’re huge?”
“Surprise…” Gemma smiles a little awkwardly, making mini jazz

hands in an attempt to be cheerful.
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“Gemma?” Harry frowns in total confusion, brows furrowed as he
looks down at her surprise baby bump. His instinctual reaction is to
be overly ecstatic about something like this, after all Harry deeply
adores babies and there’s nothing better than finding out he’s going to
be an uncle. But under the circumstances and considering where they
are right now, Harry has a sense that there’s more to the story.
“But…you said on the phone that you were really sick? Are you
better?”
Gemma bites her bottom lip, suddenly avoiding eye contact.

“Um…no…worse actually but—”
“Worse…” Harry worries, letting out a heavy stream of air as any

traces of humor and eagerness fade from his features. “What…what
do you mean worse, Gem? What’s going on with you?”
“How was Bordeaux?” Gemma evades, shifting the subject as best she
can with a false chipper tone. She plasters a smile on her face and
Harry’s heart sinks. If she doesn’t want him to know, he knows it must
be bad. “I’ve been dying to hear all about your trip. The states are great,
but I miss home sometimes.”
“It’s serious, isn’t it?” Harry whispers, not at all interested in small talk.
He needs to know what’s going on.
“Erm…we’ll have plenty of time to talk about that…” Gemma avoids

again, still trying to smile for him. “So about Bordeaux, I bet the wine
was incredible—”
“Who gives a fuck about the wine in Bordeaux!” Harry bursts

uncontrollably, voice raised and echoing throughout the small room.
He doesn’t know where that came from, he never yells at Gemma—
never. But there’s a heavy anxiousness falling over him, the uncertainty
causing him to panic, compelling him to yell and scream until he gets
the answers he doesn’t know if he is ready to hear. “I’m sorry, I’m
sorry…I didn’t mean to yell, Gems. I know you don’t want to talk
about it, but I want you to be real with me. What’s going on?”
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Gemma turns her head and avoids his eyes and Harry knows that she
has never been good at talking about the hard things. Given their less
than normal childhood, they’ve both been through some pretty rough
times and things never seemed to go according to plan. But Gemma
has always tried her best to shelter and protect Harry, bearing the brunt
weight of it herself before ever even thinking about sharing it with
Harry. Harry both loves and hates her for it.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just pull one of those doctors in here and—
”
“God, no. Don’t do that, they’ll scare you to bits.” Gemma sighs,
scoots over a little on the hospital bed, patting on the now empty side.
“Fine. Sit down, I’ll tell you.”
Harry silently crawls onto the bed with his sister, trying to somehow
steel himself up for what she is about to tell him. His mind runs
rampant with a million and one possibilities, each one worse than the
last and he’s already starting to feel nauseous with anxiety.
Gemma tucks herself against Harry’s chest, as she always tends to do.
Except this time, it takes a little longer to adjust on account of her
impeding bump. Harry wraps his arm around her, not wasting any time
in dropping his cheek down to rest atop her head. He missed this, he
missed her. God, how he wishes this was how it usually is, not in a
hospital, not with looming disaster threatening to choke him.
“Ok…so…I have this thing called a mixed glioma…” Gemma starts,

voice quiet and faint as though she doesn’t want to speak the words
into reality any more than they already are. She hugs Harry even closer,
arms squeezed around his middle as she continues to force herself to
talk. “And there are some really big, scary words that go along with
that to describe it, but basically it’s just brain cancer.”
Harry’s entire body stiffens instantly as he sucks in a sharp breath. Just

brain cancer. Just brain cancer. Just. There is nothing just about brain
cancer. It’s all-consuming, all-encompassing, rooted in the very place
that stores and harbors all that makes a person who they are.
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Memories, emotions, feelings, morals, all locked away in one seemingly
safe place, seemingly ideal place. But if that place is compromised, if
that place is strategically targeted, the body no longer has control, slave
to a foreign conglomerate of sick, hungry cells raging war, tearing at
the brain until there is nothing left to salvage.
“Gemma…” Harry exhales gravely, already feeling a sting beneath his

eyes.
“Ok, but hear me out—please, H.” Gemma begs softly, reaching to

hold one of his hands. “Please don’t say anything until I finish
explaining, it’s hard enough as it is.”
Harry tries to nod his head, holding back all his ranging emotions.
“When I told you about it before it wasn’t as serious, you know? I was
dizzy all time with god-awful headaches—I thought I had a really bad
flu or something. But then I came in and they found just a few tiny
dots on some lobe of my brain and since they were so small the doctors
were really hopeful about it. They had a huge plan with multiple steps
and they said everything would be fine, right. Everything was supposed
to be fine. But then it wasn’t. There was always more—more tumors,
more cancer, different types…and each time it seemed to be even
bigger and in an even harder place to treat in my brain. They said
that…um…” Gemma pauses for a long while, tugging her bottom lip
through her teeth. “They said I’d probably only have a year to live.”
this can’t be happening
Harry pales completely, losing all the fading color he had left in his
face. His hands start shaking uncontrollably, even though Gemma is
still holding on tightly. Emotions are running though him madly, he
feels a deep sadness at the pit of his core, anger raging hot in his veins,
but also, more than any other identifiable emotion, Harry feels a
tremendous fear. Fear of the unacceptable and unimaginable notion of
not having his sister in a year's time.
“...and they told me that ten months ago...” Gemma adds finally, voice
falling quiet.
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And those are the words that cause Harry to physically break, burning
tears finally falling silently from where they lined his eyes. He opens
his mouth slowly to speak, shaking his head without understanding.
“Gem…h-how could you…how could you hide this from me for this
long? How c-could you let me fuck off across Europe? While y-you
were…while you are…”
Harry can’t even finish that sentence. He refuses to give any sort of
ground to the concept of his sister, his very best friend, dying.
“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.” Gemma buries her head even deeper
against her brother’s chest. “I wanted to tell you, really I did. We never
keep anything from each other, but I…I…”
“You should have told me…” Harry utters in a whisper, head hung.
“I didn’t know it was this bad—I...I would have been here at your side,
day and night. I would drop everything for you…you know that.”
Gemma sits up, cupping her palm to Harry’s cheek. “I know H, I know
you would have. But you’re only 24, you’re young and healthy…you
should be out living your life and doing things and seeing the
world…not waiting around and worrying over me.”
Harry lifts his head to meet her eyes, a few tears falling in the process.
“You’re a huge part of my life—you are my life.” And he means it,
Gemma is the most important person in his life, he would do anything
for her.
“God. That look.” Gemma tilts her head, moving to hold both of her
hands to Harry’s face as she reads his terrified expression. “That look
on your face right now…that’s why I kept putting off telling you for
so long. I can’t bear to see you hurting, H. Especially over me. I hate
it.”
Harry’s few soundless tears steadily begin to turn into a heavy stream
of tears, sobs escaping his throat as his shoulders start to shake.
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“Oh Harry.” Gemma pulls him in, hugging he brother tightly as she
tries to console him the best she can.
Harry goes easily into her embrace, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries
to calm himself down. He doesn’t understand how any of this could
have happened, his mind is overwhelmed with never-ending questions,
without knowing where to begin. “But…how did you get pregnant?”
“How does anyone ever get pregnant?” Gemma laughs without any
humor in her voice. “I had sex, duh.”
“Don’t make jokes…please I can’t—” Harry’s voice breaks and he

closes his eyes again for a moment before standing up from the bed to
pace back and forth across the room. He just can’t wrap his mind
around this, it’s all so uncharacteristic of how he knows his sister to
be. “Gemma, what were thinking? I can’t believe—”
“It was stupid, ok? I know it was stupid, I don’t need you to lecture
me…I know what I did. But I…I just wanted to be normal—to feel
normal again, to feel ok. Just once more, just for a little while, you
know? It sucks, all of this fucking sucks, Harry. To know that your life
is being cut short and having to watch it happen right before your
eyes…that everything you do could very well be the last time you ever
do it—it sucks.” Gemma sighs emotionally, tears welling up under her
eyes.
“And I was so angry—god, you have no idea how angry—everything

felt so unfair...I worked so hard to get here…I put everything into
becoming an engineer and being the best and it suddenly felt like it was
all for nothing and I was pissed and…yeah, I know I probably should
have called you.” She swipes at her eyes as she glances up at Harry.
“That probably would have been a fucking brilliant time to be honest
with you about everything…”
“But instead I went out and I got nearly black out drunk and I met a
guy at a bar and he was cute and really nice and he didn’t look at me
like I was already dead, he didn’t treat me like a cancer patient made
of fucking glass, so I just said what the hell, why not?” Gemma shrugs
19
to herself, rubbing at the tears trickling down her cheeks. “To this day
I don’t even know his full name…but you know what? We had a really
great night and I don’t regret a thing. And when I found out I was
pregnant…I dunno...I thought maybe it could be my miracle. Maybe
it could be my small chance at happy, the one little mark I leave on the
world.”
Harry feels like he’s being held underwater by force. Gasping for air,
begging for air, but finding no relief no matter how many times he tries
to breathe in. “Why…why would you go along with the pregnancy?
Didn’t they advise you not to? Didn’t your doctors tell you how
fucking stupid that is—”
“Yes, of course they did—over and over and over again, but I don’t
care! They’ve told me from the beginning that it wouldn’t be wise to
carry to term, that my body couldn’t take that much strain and that I’d
have to stop all treatment for the baby’s sake but…I don’t care. Harry,
I want to glow.” Gemma gushes fervently, smiling through her still
falling tears as she wraps her arms around the bump of her stomach.
“I want to get fatter, not thinner. I want to feel happy and alive for as
long as I have left. I want this baby. And maybe that makes me selfish,
but this baby growing inside me is my miracle. And with every new
day I’m given, this child has brought more joy to my life than ever
before. It’s a peace, and a happiness and I would never trade that.
There is so much ugliness growing in my body—in my brain…sucking
all the life I have left, but for once all I can feel is the beauty and new
life growing along with it.”
Harry can’t find the words, only able to gape at his sister as saltwater
pours from the ducts of his sad eyes. He doesn’t know how much
more of this he can take; he can hardly process any of what he’s just
heard.
“H, you have to promise you’ll take care of my baby for me if

something happens to me.” Gemma cries, breaking down completely.
“I know it’s a lot to ask and I know it’s more than you ever expected
walking in here today and I’m sorry—I’m so s-sorry, Harry. I didn’t go
about this r-right…I know that, but I…” Her voice fades off and she
20
tearfully meets his eyes once more, appearing to refocus her thoughts.
“After the baby is born, my doctors are going to try another
procedure…but they don’t know if it’ll work—it’s risky and…and I
just...I need you to promise me, Harry. Promise that no matter what
happens to me, you’ll be there for my baby. It has to be you, H. I need
you to do this for me—you can’t let her end up in the system like we
did. You have to take her.”
Harry just stares at her with wide, teary eyes, breathing deep and
ragged. It doesn’t feel real—nothing feels real.
“Say something, Harry please…”
“What do you want me to say, Gemma? What the fuck do you want
me to say? I…” Harry shakes his head weakly, feeling defeated in every
way. The anger is gradually setting in as the initial shock begins to wear
off. “Not only did you decide to hide all this from me, but now you
are making plans for your death. And you what? Want me to tell you
congratulations on the baby that is literally killing you? Just expect me
to happily go along with it? Be happy for you and your pregnancy?
Fuck that.”
“Harry—”
“No, Gemma! No! I write to you all the time. We text and call all the
time, and not once did you think to mention any of this to me? You
kept telling me you were fine and there was not a goddamn thing to
worry about. You told me till you were blue in the face that your
treatment wasn’t serious, but that it was working and you were ok.”
Harry says frantically, voice laced with hurt. “You’ve been lying to me
and you wait till it’s gotten so bad that your doctors practically beg you
to call someone. You should have told me…I would have been here—
I…I would have never left your side! I would—”
“I know that and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you!” Gemma
interrupts loudly.
21
Harry blinks back in angered confusion, brows pulled together with
hurt laced all throughout his expression.
“I’ve had so many surgeries Harry, so many surgeries and treatments

and plans and… I’m tired. I’m so tired, this is exhausting. I have a 6%
survival rate, I have a better chance of surviving a plane crash than of
walking out of this hospital tumor free.” Gemma holds his gaze as she
talks. “And I’ve finally started to make peace with that. I know it’s hard
to hear and I know everything in you wants to find some trace of hope
in this, I know I’ve been there. I get it, believe me, I do. But please
Harry…” She tilts her head at him, eyes still rimmed with tears. “Please
try to understand for me...”
Harry still can’t say anything, his emotions are so scattered, it’s hard to
even register them individually anymore. He’s furious, fucking pissed.
But he’s also hurt, so deeply hurt to think of all his sister has been
going through all by herself this entire time. Gemma is too strong for
her own good sometimes, and Harry’s heart is breaking because of it.
“Harry, please. I’m so sorry, I know you’re angry with me—”
“Angry? No, Gems…angry doesn’t even begin to cover it…” Harry

whispers weakly, voice hardly carrying any sound at all. He can’t stay
in this room any longer, he needs to think, he needs process, he needs
to breathe.
The four walls of this hospital room feel like they are closing in on
him, suffocating him. So Harry walks out of Gemma’s room without
another word, not knowing where he is going, but knowing he can’t
stop. He winds his way around the hospital halls, navigating down
flights of stairs as he takes his steps two at a time. He focuses on the
rhythm of his boots hitting the linoleum floor, zones in on the click
clack, click clack of his heel clinking against the tile. Anything to distract
his mind, anything to keep him standing upright.
just make it outside, just make it outside
Harry pushes through the first exit door he sees, welcoming the rush
of cool air slamming against his ruddy face. The door leads out towards
a long breezeway of space between two hospital buildings, convenient
22
benches and tables line the area as medical staff busily pass between
one building to the other.
No longer able to safely rely on his own to feet, Harry drops himself
down on one of the empty benches, resting his elbows on his knees to
cradle his head. He tries to take in the fresh Seattle air to his lungs,
tries to calm down his heart that hasn’t stopped racing since he first
set foot in this hospital, but nothing seems to be working. He hasn’t
started crying again yet, but he can feel it coming, he can feel the rush
of heavy emotion building at the back of his throat, fighting to erupt
from within him. Harry squeezes his eyes shut, fingernails digging
almost painfully against the scalp of his head as he curls against
himself.
“You must be Harry.”
Harry doesn’t answer, doesn’t even lift his head. He doesn’t have the
energy, nor the strength. Not physically. Not mentally. Not
emotionally. Not at all.
“Gemma’s brother, right? That’s you?”
Harry knows how rude he probably looks right now, but he can’t help
any of that. All he can do is sit on this bench, hunched over himself
and try not to have a total meltdown under the breezeway.
“I’m Louis—or um I mean, Dr. Tomlinson. It still feels weird to

introduce myself as that, it sounds so…official, you know? Actually, you
wouldn’t know—obviously, because you aren’t me and you aren’t a
new struggling intern barely surviving and fucking up at every turn.
Right.”
Harry blinks up at Louis in confusion, meeting the brightest, clearest

blue eyes he’s ever seen. But they’re not only bright, they’re kind and
warm and Harry feels taken off guard by them.
23
“I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Louis sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“I’m sorry it’s been a really long night. Let me start over. I’m Louis
Tomlinson and I’m one of your sister’s doctors. Well sort of, I’m a bit
more of a doctor on training wheels really. I’ve only been here a few
months, still got no idea what I’m meant to be doing and fuck, I’m
rambling again—awful habit. I’m sorry…forget what I said. I’m Louis,
that’s it. Fuck the rest, just Louis.”
Harry nods slowly, looking back down to his lap. He really doesn’t
want to be rude or impolite, but he doesn’t have a single ounce of
energy to put towards socializing or meeting anyone new, no matter
how endearing and attractive he may be. From how shaky Harry’s
hands are in his lap, he knows he is probably only two seconds away
from completely breaking down and he’d rather not do it in front of a
complete stranger who also happens to be one of Gemma’s doctors.
“Hey…are you alright?” Louis asks gently, moving to take a seat next
to Harry on the long empty bench.
Of course Harry is not alright, what a fucking dumb question. Anyone

with eyes can see he is literally falling apart. And Louis is a doctor for
fucks sake, surely he can tell when someone is not alright and—no.
Now Harry is being unnecessarily mean and even though he didn’t say
any of it out loud, Harry already feels a bit guilty for even thinking it,
especially when Louis is only trying to be nice to him.
“Is there um...anything I can get you? Coffee? Or food?

Or…anything?” Louis tries again, sliding a tiny bit closer. “A hug
maybe? We’ve only just met, so you don’t know, but I’ve been told I
give a pretty amazing hug if you’re interested. No pressure though, of
course, but I am putting it on the table if you need it.”
Harry’s face tugs into a small smile that he didn’t think he could ever
manage right now. But this guy is so impossibly sweet and his eyes
have such a calming nature about them, Harry could easily get lost in
them. And maybe it’s because he’s emotional or maybe it’s because
there is something about him that Harry finds comforting, but Harry
24
decides that right now he would very much love a hug from a perfect
stranger.
“It can’t hurt, right?” Louis smiles softly, seeming to practically read
Harry’s mind somehow. He opens his arms in invitation, looking to
Harry expectantly.
So Harry gives in and folds himself into Louis’ arms for a hug. And
Louis is right, he does give amazing hugs, warm and snug. Harry feels
oddly safe in his arms. Maybe that’s a skill all doctors have? Maybe it
comes with the job? But Harry feels like he can trust him for some
reason and before he knows it, he’s crying against Louis’ shoulder.
Heavy sobs escaping his mouth as the tears flow relentlessly down his
cheeks.
Louis rubs his back soothingly, not put off in the slightest by Harry
crying all over him. Harry hasn’t even said two words to him, but that
doesn’t seem to matter to Louis.
“I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry…” Harry pulls back a little, sniffling and trying
to swipe at his eyes frequently enough to get them to stop leaking
angrily. “God, how embarrassing…”
“No, it’s alright.” Louis says gently, pulling out a small packet of
Kleenex from his lab coat, offering it to Harry easily. He keeps one
arm held snug around Harry’s still quivering frame. “It’s best to just
get it all out, yeah?”
Harry takes the tissue, rubbing his nose, but the tears flow on
regardless and soon so do his tormented thoughts. “I…I would’ve
been h-here. I would have dropped e-everything and been here since
the beginning—god I don’t k-know why she let it get this bad without
c-calling me…she always tries to p-protect me…she always thinks s-
she knows what’s b-best for me b-but…but she should have t-told me.
I d-deserved to know…”
25
Louis nods silently, just listening as he continues to rub Harry’s back
calmingly.
“And it’s not even just the cancer!” Harry bursts, letting it all off his
chest as he cries harder. “She’s having a baby! A baby she may not even
be here to raise! And…and…I can’t d-do this? I’m not ready to be a
f-father? She’s—fuck—she’s so irresponsible to just dump this on me
when…when she knew! She knew she c-couldn’t take care of this baby
and she k-knew there was a high chance she’d have to leave them! And
I want kids, I do…I a-always have…but not like this…n-not like—”
Harry gets choked up again as he thinks about it. “Fuck, I want to
scream. Do you ever just have that feeling bubbling up inside and you
just—you want to scream. Because I fucking need to scream.”
“All the time.” Louis admits, nodding again. “I say go for it, yeah. I
certainly won’t judge. I mean we’re already outside. You could scream
bloody murder out here and I wouldn’t hold it against you, I’d
probably join you if I’m honest. Got loads to scream about.”
Harry looks at him incredulously, unable to keep himself from oddly

letting out a little chuckle. What is it about this guy that makes him feel
so…content? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload all this on you. I don’t
know why I’m saying all this to essentially a stranger.”
“To be fair, I kinda walked into it.” Louis shrugs with a small grin.
Harry smiles back before his expression morphs back to sudden

exhaustion. “Fuck…” He groans, throwing his head back as he lets his
eyes flutter closed. “I don’t even have anywhere to stay. I wasn’t
expecting this—I flew straight over here as fast as I could to be with
her and I don’t have a plan at all.”
“Stay with me.” Louis offers right away, not thinking a thing of it.
“What?” Harry rights his head to meet Louis’ eyes in question.
26
“Erm…that came off rather creepy. Sorry about that. I promise I’m
not a creep. I’m just a bit sleep deprived, yeah? But um I’ve got this
huge house my grandmum left me and it’s just me.” Louis explains,
starting to ramble again. “I’m hardly ever home, I practically live in
this hospital so I’m not going to bother you or anything like that. And
you seem like a nice guy—I’ve known your sister for quite a while now
and she talks about you so much I kinda feel like I know you in a way,
but um…I know you’re going through a lot right now, it’s the least I
can do.”
Harry just sits motionless looking to Louis in absolute disbelief with a

puzzled frown on his face. Either Louis is really trying to stack up his
random acts of kindness for the day or he is simply a genuinely good
person. Regardless, Harry finds himself trusting his newfound
acquaintance more and more.
Louis slips a key off his key ring and offers it willingly, not thinking
twice. “Seriously, stay with me. It’s not a big deal.”
Harry looks down at the key placed in his palm, then lifts his head back
up to Louis. “Do you make a habit of giving your keys out to random
guys who’ve just cried all over you?”
“No, first time actually.” Louis laughs lightly, and he has such a
beautiful little laugh paired with the softest smile Harry has ever laid
eyes on. “But you seem like an all right guy and if you’re anything like
your sister then I know I can trust you—sort of. Your sister is a bit
mischievous, I’ve learned the hard way. Anyway, you’re probably
exhausted from traveling and could use a shower so—”
“Are you implying I smell now?” Harry raises an eyebrow in teasing.

He has a habit of resorting to flirtatious humor as a way to deflect away
his feelings. And he kind of wants to hear Louis laugh again.
“No! Of course not!” Louis lets out another little laugh and once again
there is something about his laugh that makes Harry forget his
problems, even if only for a single fleeting second. “It was a general
27
statement that most people like to shower after traveling, but if you
don’t fall under that category of individuals then so be it.”
“A shower would be kinda nice I guess…” Harry thinks, smirking a

bit.
“That’s all I’m saying.” Louis shrugs knowingly, smirking right back.
He turns to face Harry full on. “Stay with me.” He says again,
narrowing his eyes at Harry expectantly, probably trying to pressure
Harry into saying yes, but there is absolutely nothing threatening about
him. Harry almost wants to laugh and tell him that he’s just about as
menacing as a teddy bear, but that’s not nearly as entertaining.
“Geez, ok fine. I’ll stay with you.” Harry sighs in exaggerated defeat,
as if he ever really needed convincing.
“Good.” Louis nods contently, pulling out his phone from the front
pocket of his scrubs. “Give me your number and I’ll text you my
address.”
“Well, I’ll admit that is a very smooth way of getting my number.”

Harry teases, taking Louis’ phone from his grasp to type in his phone
number. “I’ll have to make note of that.”
“You’re impossible.” Louis grins, shaking his head. “You do realize

I’m doing you a favor.”
“Mhmm.” Harry hums, lips quirked into another grin.
“Wow, you really are a huge flirt.” Louis laughs in disbelief. “Gemma
has told me stories but…wow.”
“What stories did she tell you?” Harry asks in surprise. That’s so like
his sister to rattle off embarrassing stories about him while he isn’t
there to defend himself.
Louis shrugs, feigning innocence. “I dunno, just stories…”

28
“Now I feel exposed and I don’t even know why.”
It’s Louis who smirks this time, sitting up straight. “Good. It gives me
the upper hand. Especially since you’re about to be my roommate.”
Harry grins, unable to stop himself from liking Louis more and more.
“It’ll just be a few nights, I promise. Until I get on my feet and
everything.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, mate. I told
you, it’s no big deal.” Louis insists, patting Harry’s knee lightly before
standing to his feet. He pulls a beeping pager out of his pocket, sighing
a bit as he looks over the page. “Well duty calls, I suppose. Raincheck
on the screamfest?”
“Definitely. Thanks again…for you know, having a sit with me.” Harry
says a little shyly. “It’s not everyday that a stranger sits down and lets
me bear my entire soul on his shoulder.”
“My shoulder is always open if you need it.” Louis smiles genuinely as
he starts walking backwards down the hall. “By the way, there’s
essentially no food in my fridge, sorry. I’ll pick up things later, but
make yourself at home.”
||☤||
So interestingly enough, Gemma’s brother is attractive after all. Not

that Louis ever really assumed otherwise, he wasn’t expecting him to
be hideous or anything…he just wasn’t expecting him to look like that.
Gemma never mentioned that her baby brother was hot—why would
she Louis supposes, that’d probably be weird.
They really do look alike though, Harry and Gemma. Both blessed
with dimples and sweet, genuine smiles. It’s hard not to instantly fall
for them just after one simple glance.
29
“Lou, you really didn’t have to let him stay with you.” Gemma says the
moment Louis walks into her room to collect her vital stats.
Thinking back on it, Louis can’t quite believe that he just willingly
offered his home to someone he only spoke to for fifteen minutes.
Who does that? Not Louis, especially not Louis. Lately, Louis hardly
ever puts himself out there in any way, it’s not always easy for him to
open up to people, even in small ways.
“Oh hush, yes I did. He’s your brother, I’m not just gonna leave him
out on the street.”
“Well thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m so worried about him.”
Gemma sighs, as she paces about her hospital room. “And he’s so mad
at me—I’ve never even seem him that upset with me before. He hardly
even wanted to tell me that he was staying with you when he came
back to get his bag. He didn’t look me in the eye. He probably hates
me…”
“He does not hate you, and you know it. He’ll come around, just give
him time.” Louis assures as he adjusts her IV drip. “It’s a lot to take in
and I think he needs time to digest all of it.”
“Yeah…” Gemma sighs again, a deep frown forming on her brow.
“Stop worrying. It’s not a good look for you.” Louis teases, lightly
pressing a thumb to her furrowed brow to smooth it.
Gemma laughs a little, playfully slapping Louis’ hand away. “Piss off.”
Louis grins, laughing along with her. “I’m serious, Gem. Stop
worrying, he’ll be back. I’ll talk to him.”
“You will?” Gemma asks hopefully.
“Yeah, of course.” Louis promises. “Anything for you.”
30
||☤||
On Louis’ way home from the hospital, he stops to pick up a few

things at the store. He buys the necessities that are tragically lacking
from his barren refrigerator, but he also grabs a few extra things to
hopefully cheer Harry up. He seemed so broken up when Louis met
him earlier, it’d be good to help him take his mind off things, at least
for a little while.
Louis finds Harry in the living room, hair still damp from the shower
he must have just taken. “Settling in ok?”
“Oh my god, you scared me.” Harry startles, having not noticed Louis
in the doorway. “But yeah—yes, I am. You have a really lovely home.”
“Thanks. I haven’t done much with it since I moved in, to be honest.”

Louis admits, looking around as though he hasn’t thought much about
it. “It’s pretty much exactly how my grandmother left it.”
“Well, it’s still lovely.”
Louis smiles appreciatively. “I see you finally got that shower. I like
you better clean.”
“Me too.” Harry laughs a bit. “It’s amazing what a shower can do for
your mood.”
“I told you.” Louis reminds, and Harry really does look a lot better
than he did at the hospital.
“Need some help with that?” Harry nods his head towards Louis’ full
hands.
Louis looks down at the bags, almost forgetting they were there. “Oh
right, yeah—sure, thanks.”
31
Harry gets up and dutifully takes a few of the bags from Louis’ grasp,
following him into the kitchen to help put the groceries away. Louis
shows Harry where everything goes, getting him properly acquainted
with the large kitchen.
“So do you just love ice cream or…?” Harry pulls out yet another pint
of ice cream, frowning at Louis curiously.
“Oh, no…” Louis laughs awkwardly, shaking his head. “So I was
standing in the frozen dessert aisle for a solid twenty minutes because
I didn’t know if you were more of a chocolate or vanilla kind of guy
or maybe even a fruity flavor type? So I got, like, ten different pints to
be safe. I’m pretty close to starting my own ice cream bar at this point.”
“You bought me ice cream?” Harry wonders, already sounding

touched as a smile spreads across his face.
“Not just ice cream.” Louis grins, pulling out two bottles of wine, one
white, one red. “Ice cream and wine.”
“What…” Harry asks again, smile morphing into confusion.
“Ice cream and wine.” Louis repeats obviously. “Honest to god, it

solves all problems, you’ll feel so much better.” He hands Harry a glass
from the cabinet along with a spoon. “It’s my go-to thing when I’m
having a shit day.”
Harry looks at him skeptically as he takes the glassware in his hand. “It
just…it seems like an…odd mix…”
“You’re seriously telling me that you’ve never once tried this before?”
“No?” Harry shakes his head, smiling. “Why would I?”
“Right, well let’s make it a good night then, I suppose.” Louis decides,
popping the cork out of one of the bottles. “I’m a bit of an expert at
32
this now, I saw it on a cooking show once and I’ve been obsessed ever
since. Basically, it’s all about flavor balance and composition.”
Harry leans himself against the kitchen counter, watching Louis

closely. “Oh, is that right?”
“Mhmm, not every wine goes with every ice cream flavor.” Louis
continues to explain. “They’ve got to have complimentary flavor
nuances and there has to be a balance of sugar versus acidity for it to
taste right.”
Harry blinks at Louis in surprise. “Are you sure you’re a doctor and
not an undercover chef?”
“Oh, god no.” Louis laughs at even the notion. “I can’t cook to save
my life. If this involved a stove, we’d be in trouble. You only need to
understand flavors at a basic level to do this decently.”
“Alright then, give me an example.”
“Moscato and mint and chip are surprisingly really good together.”
Louis tells him, thinking back on all his favorites. “Oh! One time I was
feeling exceptionally shitty and I had a malbec with a raspberry
chocolate chip and it was so good.”
“That sounds so fucking nasty!” Harry scrunches up his face instantly,

nearly laughing at the absurdity of it all.
“It’s really good, ok! Trust me! Just try it!” Louis encourages. “Red or
white?”
“Red, but…what is that?” Harry looks at the bottle in Louis’ hand

skeptically.
“What do you mean, it’s wine?” Louis frowns back, pouring Harry a
very generous glass.
33
“From?”
“Uh? I dunno?” Louis shrugs, looking over the label. “The corner
shop down the street? It was on sale.”
Harry continues making a disgusted face, watching Louis closely as if

he is trying to poison him. “Louis. It’s shit.”
“Well excuse me, we all didn’t just spend the past year in France wine
tasting. Give me a break! You’re judging me so hard right now.”
“I know you could have done better than this.” Harry continues to
mock him with a dimpled grin. “It’s bloody horrible. It tastes like
sweaty socks.”
“And why exactly do you know what sweaty socks taste like?” Louis
narrows his eyes in skepticism.
“For moments just like this when I need to draw accurate

comparisons.” Harry claims, biting back a laugh.
“Ok, maybe it’s not the best by itself, but with the ice cream it’s not
bad.” Louis defends, handing Harry his own pint of a chocolate based
ice cream that should pair well. “And—I mean, for 5 bucks? You can’t
beat that and I’m poor.”
Harry’s laugh finally escapes in full. “Aren’t doctors supposed to make

a lot of money?”
“Yeah, I mean…eventually. Some far off day or so I’ve been led to

believe.” Louis scoffs, pouring himself a glass of wine. “But really I’m
just a poor intern who works like a slave to make pennies on the dollar
and drown in student loans.”
And for whatever reason that only seems to make Harry laugh harder.
34
“Yeah, yeah, please laugh it up.” Louis encourages, holding up his wine
glass like he doesn’t give a fuck. “Frankly the amount of money to my
name is truly laughable so cheers, mate.”
“I think it’s just the way you say ‘I’m poor’ that really gets me.” Harry
cackles in amusement. “It sounds so destitute.”
“That’s cuz it is, man. I’m poor.” Louis pouts a little bit. “Very poor.”
“Stop.” Harry continues laughing, to the point where he looks like he

may already be drunk. “Maybe it’s your accent that makes it so
hilarious?”
“What?” Louis squawks in surprise. “You do realize that you also have
a very English accent?”
“But not like yours.” Harry smirks behind his wine glass. “What’s a
Brit like you doing in Seattle, anyway?”
“Oh…um…well I moved to America when I was eighteen to live with

my grandmother. I needed to uh…get away…” Louis evades
purposely, breaking eye contact. “She supported me through school
and everything and when she passed away two years back, she left me
this house. So it’s just been me since I started residency a few months
ago.”
“But, you don’t have any other family back home?” Harry questions,
digging his spoon into his pint.
Louis looks down, breathing faltering slightly. He shakes his head out,
blinking away the heavy truth. “Um no. I—I don’t...I don’t really have
a family…anymore…”
Louis doesn’t talk about that. He doesn’t talk about his life before
moving to America to live with his grandmother. If he doesn’t talk
about it, he can almost remain in the reality that it never happened. He
35
can almost trick himself into believing that nothing is missing and
everything is fine.
But Harry doesn’t even press any further, he just nods in

understanding. It’s like he just gets it. Most times people press on with
incessant, badgering questions. Questions, questions, questions. But
Harry just nods, own head hung in silence.
“I never really knew my parents, or at least I don’t remember them.”

Harry says quietly, head still bowed. “Gemma does a little bit, but not
much. They left us each money when they died, but we couldn’t access
it until we got to be eighteen, so we were all over the system. We were
lucky not to be separated as kids though, I don’t know what I would
have done without my sister. Even when we got older and she decided
to go to the states for school, I was lost without her. I guess I could
have followed her, but I wanted to travel through Europe, thought it’d
be a cool experience and all that. Now it seems like it was probably a
mistake…”
“Why?” Louis frowns in question. “You didn’t know what was going
on with her.”
“No, I didn’t know it was this bad. But I…I knew something was
wrong…I knew it in my heart and I didn’t want it to be true, I didn’t
want to acknowledge it. I guess I thought if I didn’t know, it couldn’t
hurt me—it couldn’t be real or serious if I never knew about
it…” Harry admits, sighing heavily as he runs a hand through his hair.
“It’s just that…the worst possible scenario always seems to happen in
my life. I thought maybe for once…it wasn’t, you know? Maybe
Gemma was just in a mood or feeling a lot of pressure from her job
that was making her so anxious—not that she was potentially dying. I
never thought…” His voice fades off as he takes in several deep
breaths, refocusing himself. “But I knew it couldn’t have been
good…I knew. And it’s probably part of why I’m so pissed about it.”
Louis has never understood anything more. When the cards dealt to
him have never been played in his favor, he started to expect the worst.
36
Always staying on edge, always preparing for the next blow. It’s why
Louis never allows himself to get too comfortable.
“Anyway, enough about that.” Harry decides, finishing off his glass
and going for another. “This wine is still total shit by the way. I’m just
in the mood to be tipsy.”
“It gets the job done, I told you.” Louis smirks, following suit with
pouring himself a fresh glass. “And paired with ice cream it’s the best
comfort.”
Harry sits cross-legged with a pint of chocolate raspberry ice cream in

between his legs. “You aren’t wrong, I’ll give you that.”
“I know.” Louis nods with a grin.
“So your residency is for surgery right?” Harry wonders curiously.
“Mhmm.” Louis hums, lips locked around his spoon.
“So…that means you’re, like, super smart?”
“Uh…I don’t know? Some days, maybe…”
“So…that’s a yes.” Harry decides with a slow smile, letting his own
spoon hang from his mouth. “What kind of surgeon do you want to
be?”
“You know I didn’t quite know at first?” Louis reflects gradually. “I

go back and forth most days, but I’m pretty sure I want to go for a
neurosurgery fellowship. It’s complex and everything, but I dunno? It
clicks—I understand it.”
“Super, suuuper smart then.” Harry repeats, raising his eyebrows.
“Shut up.”
37
“I think you can do it.” Harry decides with one simple nod of his head.
“You’ve quite literally just met me. You can’t possibly know that.”
Louis replies flatly.
“I know, but…I know. You’re going to do it, I have a feeling.” Harry

smiles, shrugging a bit. “You’re going to be great one day, I’m sure of
it.”
Louis looks at him incredulously, matching Harry’s dumb smile. “Well,

thank you world traveler, Harry Styles, who I just met.”
“You’re very welcome, Louis Tomlinson, future neurosurgeon, who I

also just met.” Harry grins slowly.
And although there are a million and one other things he should be
doing, charting or studying and god knows what else, Louis stays put
on the couch with Harry. He’s got his own pint of ice cream wedged
between his legs and a wine glass full of shit wine in his hand, laughing
and joking with Harry as though they’ve known each other their entire
lives.
Louis learns a lot about Harry, like how he speaks French almost
fluently and that he went to school in London and earned a degree in
business and marketing. There’s no doubt that he’s smart, but he’s also
so refreshingly different from most people Louis knows. He’s a bit
weird and goofy, but in a cute kind of way, so much so that Louis feels
helplessly endeared by his antics.
They talk with all the familiarity of old friends, effortless and simple.
The conversation never once reaches a dull point, or an uncomfortable
lull. And they happily talk and laugh with each other until they
eventually fall asleep sprawled out on the couch, lured by the pull of
alcohol metabolizing in their system.
“Shit!” Louis curses bolting up at the sound of his alarm going off.
The very last emergency alarm. “I’m gonna be late for rounds! Fuck,
38
fuck, fuck!” He hisses under his breath as he scrambles off the couch.
“Why do I always have to cut it so damn close all the time?”
Harry hums blearily, lifting his sleepy head. His long hair is sticking up
everywhere as he watches Louis trip about the room like a chicken
without his head.
“Look, don’t judge me for not showering or brushing my teeth. I’ll do

it at the hospital, I swear.” Louis strips out of one shirt and throws on
another one that he just grabbed out of the dryer.
“I wasn’t going to say a thing…” Harry smirks, rubbing his eyes. His
morning voice is unnervingly deep. It almost makes Louis pause just
to dwell on it, but he doesn’t have time for that right now.
“…but…that’s just fucking nasty.”
“It’s not by choice, ok!” Louis defends. “I can’t miss rounds for
essentially cosmetic reasons. Rounds wait for no man.”
“Cosmetic? It’s hygiene, Louis! Hygiene! It’s a necessity!”
“I know, I know! That’s why I’ll do it at the hospital! I have emergency

toothpaste in my locker just for times like this.” Louis assures. It’s a
pretty common thing for the interns, living out of lockers and being
ready for any form of crisis—mainly, running late. Honestly, Louis has
used the hospital showers more than his own shower lately.
Harry still looks skeptical. “Alright…if you say so…”
“You should come by later, maybe visit Gemma…” Louis tries briefly,
throwing it in casually.
“Yeah…” Harry sighs at the mention of his sister, expression suddenly

heavy and exhausted again. But he faintly nods his head in agreement.
39
“Or you know, I could show you around the hospital, give you a grand
tour or something.” Louis offers instead. “Exciting
stuff. Super exciting stuff.”
Harry smiles marginally, meeting his eyes.
“No pressure, just think about it.”
“No, you’re right…I should be there. I’ll come by later.” Harry decides
gradually, running a hand through his unruly hair. “But…uh...I think
I’m going to shower first and maybe brush my teeth before I leave the
house? Cuz I’m not gross like some people.” He smirks, back to teasing
as usual.
“You’re an ass.” Louis shoves him on his way to the door, causing
Harry to fall backwards onto the couch again. “Bye.”
||☤||
Louis once again makes it just in time for rounds, having just enough
time to freshen up a bit at the lockers.
“Cutting it close again.” Niall slides up next to Louis, dropping down

on the closest locker room bench to tie his shoes.
“I told you I like to live on the edge, it keeps me young.” Louis jokes.
“Have you guys seen Zayn?” Liam asks, sounding worried as he leans
against Louis’ locker.
“No?” Louis slides his lab coat on over his scrubs. “I just got here.”
“Yeah, same. If anything, I thought he’d be with you.” Niall shrugs,

before standing to his feet.
40
“He’s never late for rounds…” Liam mumbles to himself, sounding
confused. But none of them have time to dwell on it much further,
because Steve marches into the locker room ready to give assignments.
“Good morning!” Steve greets cheerfully, and Louis wonders how he

always seems to have so much energy at such an early hour every day.
“Before rounds this morning, you’re all required to complete a training
session in the skills lab with Dr. Phillips.”
Louis doesn’t mind that at all, skills labs beat the mundane busy work
that usually follows rounds any day. And if they can postpone that for
a bit, Louis is more than ready. Besides, Dr. Phillips is The Chief of
Surgery and any opportunity to impress him is golden for an intern
just starting out.
“Where is Malik?” Steve asks as his interns all begin to head towards
the lab, all but one.
“I think he’s…um sick.” Liam lies, always trying to cover for Zayn.
“…Sick.” Steve repeats slowly, narrowing his eyes skeptically at Liam.

“And how do you know that, Payne?”
“Because I uh…saw him…and he didn’t look well—and he erm—he

told me to tell you...”
“Saw him where?” Steve presses.
“Here—or I mean he was here… but…uh…he left because he uh

couldn’t stay? Because of the—cuz he’s um…sick. Yeah.” Liam tries
and Louis nearly winces because if there is one thing Liam is horrible
at, it’s lying.
“Well if that were true, which I highly doubt, Dr. Malik would need to
inform me himself that he was too ill to work today.” Steve answers,
eyes still narrowed. “Dr. Payne, I know he’s your friend, but he’s a
41
grown man and he doesn’t need you to cover for him. Please don’t
make a habit of lying to me or it’ll be your ass on the line.”
Liam bows his head regretfully. “Right, erm sorry, sir.”
They all follow Steve’s orders and report to the skills lab and Zayn
does eventually show up…that is, once the training is completely over
three hours later.
“Where were you?” Liam hisses as soon as he catches up to him in the

hall. He definitely doesn’t look sick, in fact it doesn’t look like anything
is wrong with him.
Zayn grins a bit, opening his mouth to answer. “I was—”
“Malik! Nice of you to finally join us.” Steve greets warmly with a
smile, dripping in sarcasm. “You look well. Did you have a nice rest,
sleeping beauty?”
“I know I missed the skills lab, I’m sorry, Dr. Aoki. I had a—”
“Surgeons don’t make excuses, Malik.” Steve’s face instantly morphs

into serious and authoritative. “If you want to be a surgeon, then own
up to your bullshit.”
“Right, ok. But sir, I—”
“Scut.” Steve says, not bothering to listen to his excuse.
“Scut?” Malik groans, throwing his head back in disgust.
“Aww, are your pretty hands not used to that? Poor baby.” Steve
pretends to pout in sympathy, handing Zayn a stack of charts. “Get
over it and get your ass to Room 5901, Mrs. Coleman is in urgent need
of a rectal exam after her colonoscopy.”
42
Zayn looks like he would rather die, groaning again as he takes the
heavy stack knowing fully well it’s filled with the most menial and
grueling of medical tasks.
“Payne, you’re on Ortho today and Horan you’re with…uh…” He

glances down at his clipboard. “Peds.”
“Yes!” Niall exclaims happily, always enthused to have the chance to

work with children.
“And Tomlinson, you’re on Neuro.” Steve reads. “All of you report to

your respective services.”
“Yes, sir.”
||☤||
Being on Neuro means being under Dr. Carmichael’s service. She’s the
Chief of Neurosurgery as well as Gemma’s primary surgeon. Louis
thinks she’s an absolute badass, one of the coolest and most talented
surgical attendings at SSMC. Any chance he gets to learn from her is a
gift, she gets him more excited about the field of neurosurgery every
time he is on her service. And lucky for Louis, Dr. Carmichael thinks
he is one of the most capable interns in his surgical class and frequently
requests him on her service. Louis just tries his best to never
disappoint her, always stepping up his game and going the extra mile
to make sure he remains in her good graces.
Louis and Dr. Carmichael walk into Gemma’s room together and
Louis is pleasantly surprised to see Harry. He seems to have just shown
up, sitting off to the side in one of the extra room chairs. Louis can
tell they probably still haven’t talked, if the way Harry is sitting is any
indication, body language almost completely closed off. But at least
he’s here and came to support her. That only demonstrates how much
Harry really cares about his sister, wanting to be by her side despite his
understandable anger and frustration towards the situation.
43
“Hello Gemma!” Dr. Carmichael waves warmly, before noticing Harry
in the room. “Oh, hello—we haven’t met, I’m Dr. Carmichael.”
“Hi, I’m Harry, Gemma’s brother.” Harry smiles politely and shakes
her proffered hand.
“Oh, so you’re the famous baby brother. It’s lovely to finally meet you,
Harry.” Dr. Carmichael says. “Your sister raves about you all the time.
Doesn’t she, Dr. Tomlinson?”
“Oh yes, all the time.” Louis smirks, giving Gemma a wink.
“So I’ve heard.” Harry nods, glancing at Gemma briefly. “Well I look
forward to getting to know you both as well. Actually, I have a few
questions about her condition, if you don’t mind?”
“Sorry, he’s a bit overbearing.” Gemma apologizes, giving Harry a look

of her own.
“No, he’s just being a good brother. Everyone needs someone looking
out for them.” Dr. Carmichael encourages genuinely. “Harry, I know
how hard this all must be to process and I’d like to help as best as I
can, so please ask away. I will be as transparent with you as possible.”
Harry nods in appreciation, offering her a small thankful smile. “So

um, yesterday Gemma told me that she has mixed tumor or something
in her brain…what exactly does that mean?”
“Gemma has a mixed glioma and basically what that means is there
are two different types of cancerous cells making up her tumor as it
grows.” Dr. Carmichael explains. “One is far more aggressive than the
other so the treatment must be very strong and direct to eradicate it.
This type of tumor only accounts for one percent of all brain tumors,
so it can be complex to treat.”
“Fancy way to say I’m dying.” Gemma sums up easily.
44
“Gemma.” Harry hisses, moderately pleasant face quickly
morphing into complete distress.
“Well, it’s the truth, Harry.” Gemma reminds him. “It’s better to just
be real and honest about it.”
Harry’s face only grows in disapproval, practically scowling, before he

turns back to Dr. Carmichael. “You’re saying that you can’t take it
out?”
“Yes and no.” Dr. Carmichael starts. “The surgery I have proposed to
remove the tumor is very risky and hardly tested. The survival rate is
slim and even if she survived, the recovery process can be so brutal
and will require rounds of heavy radiation. It’s a very long road and a
very hard fight and because of that, we have held off on the procedure,
at your sister’s request, for the sake of the baby.”
Harry doesn’t seem to be very happy with that, brow still pulled
together tightly. Louis knows how frustrated and powerless he must
feel by this news, it’s not something that is easy to hear or understand.
“Our plan is to get the baby as close to full term as possible before we
induce labor.” Dr. Carmichael continues. “So far, Gemma’s scans have
been ok and her tumor hasn’t spread too far out of control, but we are
monitoring her closely.”
Harry lowers head, digesting the information slowly. “Ok…so…when

the baby is delivered then…”
“Then we fight this.” Louis finishes for him, making sure his voice is
nothing but positive and determined. And maybe it’s Louis’ own
imagination, but when Harry meets Louis’ eyes, Louis swears he sees
some of the worry dissipate from Harry’s features.
“Yes, exactly.” Dr. Carmichael agrees with a nod. “And in the

meantime we remain optimistic and prepare for a healthy new baby.
45
Which, by the way Gemma, Dr. Johnson will be in shortly to do your
routine ultrasound and sonogram for the baby.”
||✚||
Once all the doctors have scurried out of the room, it’s only Gemma
and Harry left in the silence. Harry has plenty to say, but he doesn’t
want to be the first one to talk and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t
know where to start.
“I’m really glad you’re here.” Gemma speaks up quietly. “I…I wasn’t
sure that’d you’d come back…”
“Of course I’m here, you really thought I’d leave you?” Harry frowns
deeply, taken aback. “Gemma, you’re my sister, you’re my best friend
for fucks sake—I couldn’t leave now if I tried.” He admits, sitting
down on the edge of her bed. “That being said, I’m still mad about
this. I’m trying really hard not to be, because I know you don’t need
the extra stress right now.”
“Harry listen, I’m so sorry for how I’ve handled all this. Really I am.”
Gemma apologizes, face heavy with remorse. “It was all so unfair to
you…and I don’t know what I can do to make it right, but all I know
is that I don’t want you to spend however long we have left together
being mad at me.”
Harry lifts his head to meet her eyes. He knows just how worried she
is about him, he can see it all over her exhausted face. Harry doesn’t
want to fight with his sister anymore, there’s no sense in it now. What’s
done is done and he’s here now. All he can do is be here for Gemma
now, as best he can.
“You’re right, Gems.” Harry nods, reaching to grab her hand.

“And…I’m sorry for how I reacted, I didn’t mean to explode and fuck
off. I just…I’m scared…”
46
“I know.” Gemma squeezes his hand tightly. “This is all so scary, but
we don’t have to talk about it, not right now. We can talk about normal
things and tease each other and go back to just being us.” She offers
him a soft reassuring smile. “Here, I’ll start. Your hair is getting so
long, I almost mistook you for Tarzan when you came in yesterday.”
Harry instantly breaks into a smile of his own. “Yeah, well you’re just
jealous because my hair is better than yours and I’ve obviously got the
better genes.”
“You wish.” Gemma challenges with her eyes narrowed. “We both
know I’m the better Styles. It’s just a fact.”
Harry laughs, shaking his head fondly. “I’ve missed you. I think I
skipped over saying it yesterday, but…it’s really good to see you,
Gems.”
“I’ve missed you too, H. More than you know.” Gemma takes his
other hand as well, holding them both with her smaller ones. “Stay
with me for the ultrasound, yeah?”
Harry leans in to kiss her forehead. “Ok.”
Dr. Johnson, the obstetrician, comes in a half an hour later in light

pink scrubs, introducing herself to Harry just as Dr. Carmichael had.
She sets up the ultrasound, squeezing gel over Gemma’s stomach and
moving the wand around in order to bring up the clearest image of the
baby. She goes through and makes sure everything is normal and that
the pregnancy is progressing smoothly.
“Everything looks great.” Dr. Johnson reports with a smile, scribbling

a few things down on her chart. “And we’re still keeping it a surprise,
right Gemma?”
Gemma starts to nod her head. “Yep—”
47
“What?” Harry interrupts in total surprise. “You don’t even know
what the sex of your baby is?”
“I don’t need to know. I love my baby regardless.” Gemma says,

looking down at her stomach. “Besides, I like surprises.”
“Well, I would like to know.” Harry insists.
“That’s too bad.” Gemma laughs, shaking her head. “Dr. Johnson is
sworn to secrecy.”
“Just whisper it to me, I won’t tell her I swear.” Harry encourages with
a grin, leaning in towards the obstetrician.
“I can’t, she’s right.” Dr. Johnson laughs, toweling off the gel from
Gemma’s belly. “Your sister runs a tight ship around here.”
“Of course she does.” Harry tilts his head fondly, looking down at
Gemma.
It kinda feels normal, and Harry can shut his mind off and just pretend
like the only reason he is at this hospital is because his sister is having
a baby, nothing more. He can close his eyes and just allow himself to
be happy for her, relish the joyful normalcy and awaited excitement
that comes with having a child.
“Avery Elliot.” Gemma says out of the blue.
“What?” Harry blinks in confusion.
“I’ve decided that’s what I want to name my baby.” Gemma

announces proudly. “Avery Elliot.”
“That’s a cute name for a boy.” Harry agrees.
48
“It doesn’t matter if they’re a boy or girl, it’s the name I want. I’ve
made up my mind.”
“You don’t think it kinda sounds like two boy’s names?”
“No, it’s two neutral names and I think that any name can be for a boy
or a girl. Besides, it doesn’t really matter because I like how it sounds,
it’s pretty.” Gemma stubbornly decides. “And for the record, I feel like
my baby is a girl.”
“You feel like…” Harry quotes back in teasing.
“Yes, I feel like.” Gemma swats his shoulder with a grin. “We talk, me
and her.”
“A girl named Avery Elliot? Well, that’s definitely unique.” Harry tests
out the name with a growing smile. “I kinda like it, I think?”
“It grows on you.” Gemma nods happily. “No matter what happens,
make sure she gets that name, ok?”
“You’re going to be here to do it yourself.” Harry reminds in

confidence. He refuses to accept any negative outcomes, deciding to
remain positive and keep hope alive regardless of what his sister says.
“Oh my god…” Gemma’s eyes widen as she gasps suddenly in

surprise.
“What? What’s wrong? What happened?” Harry asks in succession,

instantly on alert.
“Give me your hand!” Gemma urges, reaching out to grab it when

Harry doesn’t move fast enough. She places his hand over her swollen
belly, watching for his reaction. “You feel that?”
49
Harry nods his head as a slow, captivated smile spreads across his
cheeks. He stares down at his hand in amazement, feeling slight little
movements under his palm. “That’s incredible, Gem.”
“I think she likes your voice.” Gemma grins up at him. “You know
who else she kicks for?”
“Who?”
“Louis.” Gemma reveals. “She loves Louis, it’s the weirdest thing.”
“Huh…that’s interesting…” Harry hums to himself.
“Isn’t it?”
||✚||
“You look so lost I almost feel embarrassed for you.” Louis grins in
amusement as he strolls up to Harry standing awkwardly in the middle
of a split hall.
“I’m not lost…not at all. I’m just uh…admiring the hallways...” Harry
tries, even though he knows it can’t be further from the truth. Gemma
is getting lab work done so he thought he’d find something to eat in
the cafeteria—if only he could find the cafeteria. Why are hospitals
built like a maze?
“Oh right, of course, yeah.” Louis nods slowly, sounding so sarcastic

Harry almost starts giggling. “Well I guess you don’t need me then. I’ll
just be going. See you aro—”
“No, wait!” Harry blurts instantly before Louis walks away.
Louis turns and raises a single eyebrow, biting back a smirk.
50
“If by chance I was maaaybeee trying to get to the cafeteria or
something…” Harry shrugs indifferently, pulling a face. “Which
hallway would you suggest that I admire next?”
Louis lets out a little laugh, shaking his head before grabbing Harry’s
hand. “Come with me.”
“You don’t have to take me, I’m sure you have better things to do. I
don’t want to distract you or—”
“It’s perfectly alright, Harry. Relax, I was heading there anyway.” Louis
assures, pulling him down the right hallway. “If you want, you could
eat lunch with me and my friends. They’re basically the only people I
ever see.”
“Ok, I’d love to meet your doctor friends.”
“Good.” Louis smiles. “Just a fair warning, they’re quite an interesting

bunch so I can’t safely guarantee that you won’t be slightly
uncomfortable at least once, so I apologize.”
“What does that even mean?” Harry frowns in confusion.
“You’ll see.” Louis grins as they enter the cafeteria. The line is
surprisingly empty, so they breeze through collecting their lunch and
walking over to Louis’ usual table.
There are already three people sitting at the table, who Harry assumes
must be Louis’ friends. Two of them are talking loudly and animatedly
to each other while sharing their food and the other one seems to be
in his own world, hunched over a book, taking avid notes.
“Hey guys, this is Harry.” Louis greets as they approach, causing each
one of them to lift their heads. “Mind if he has lunch with us? I found
him wandering around looking like a lost puppy and I felt bad.”
51
Harry knocks his hip against Louis’ playfully, giving him a look before
waving hello to the three guys.
“Sure bro, sit with us. We don’t bite, I promise.”
“Harry, that’s Liam, Zayn, and Niall.” Louis introduces, pointing to

each one of them and Harry commits their names to memory. He and
Louis take a seat next to each other around the circular table.
“It’s lovely to meet you all.” Harry smiles, waving a little again.
“Ooh…you’re British too, like Louis.” Zayn observes, looking

between them curiously. “Are you two related?”
“No, it’s just a coincidence.” Louis shrugs, popping open a bag of

chips.
“Mmm...I see, I see…” Zayn props his head up on the table and leans
in a bit more. “So Harry, are you single? Also, follow up question, are
you and Louis fucking?”
Harry blushes instantly, nearly choking on his bottled water. He was

definitely not at all expecting that question or the way Zayn is intently
watching him and Louis.
“Zayn.” Louis hisses, turning his own shade of red. And Harry thinks
it’s kind of adorable how embarrassed he looks.
“What?” Zayn gapes innocently, holding a hand up. “He’s cute, Lou.
I was just curious—god. And for the record, I completely approve.”
“Oh my god, why can’t you be normal?” Louis sighs, holding a hand
to the side of his face as he avoids eye contact with Harry.
“We’re friends.”
52
“Gotcha.” He gives them a wink and Harry is already starting to see
what Louis meant earlier.
“Ok well, let’s not scare poor Harry away.” Liam speaks up, giving
Louis an apologetic look as he scrambles to change the subject.
“I am so sorry. They don't get out much.” Louis mumbles to Harry,

leaning over to him. But Harry can’t help but laugh, finding the whole
thing hilarious. And it doesn’t fail to melt the apologetic anxiety from
Louis’ face, even getting him to chuckle a little too.
“Oh, hey so Z, where were you this morning?” Liam asks. “You still
haven’t told me.”
“On-call room.”
“So you overslept?”
Zayn smirks, licking his lips. “Not exactly…”
Realization seems to suddenly dawn on Liam's face. “What the fuck! I

covered for you and basically lost Aoki’s trust and you were having sex
in an on-call room! Unbelievable!” Liam bursts in outraged disgust,
gasping at Zayn. “Unbelievable!”
“Aww you covered for me, Li.” Zayn pouts, wrapping his arms around
Liam from the side. “You’re the best, I love you—”
“Don’t touch me, I’m not doing it again. Ever.” Liam frees himself
from Zayn’s hold insolently, turning away from him dramatically. “I
hope you fucking flunk.”
“You don’t mean that, you know you’d miss me if I was gone.” Zayn
leans into Liam, speaking to him in an almost flirty way.
53
“Yes, I do mean it!” Liam bickers back petulantly, crossing his arms
over his chest. “And I wouldn’t even notice if you were gone because
I’m too busy doing my damn job, unlike you. I hope the sex was worth
your spot in the program.”
“Are they always like this?” Harry whispers to Louis curiously.
Louis nods, rolling his eyes a bit. “I think Liam has a thing for Zayn
to be honest, but I don’t think Zayn has realized it yet. But I just stay
out of it.”
“The sex was soooo worth it.” Zayn claims, licking his lips. “We went
multiple times and I—”
“TMI. Some of us actually sleep in those beds.” Niall scoffs in disgust,

finally speaking up for the first time after being so engrossed in a
medical journal he’s researching. “And can you two please shut the
fuck up already, I’m trying to concentrate. Go work it out or fuck it
out in an on-call room somewhere.”
Liam turns the brightest shade of red, fish-mouthing without knowing

what to say. Luckily Zayn’s pager goes off, saving him from having to
form a real reaction.
“Ugh, Aoki won’t stop giving me shit to do.” Zayn groans, sliding out
of his chair bitterly. “Literally shit. I’ve been giving rectal exams all
fucking day.”
“Good thing the sex was worth it.” Louis smirks in teasing, sipping on
his water.
Zayn groans again as the rest of the table snickers at his expense.
“Anyway it was great meeting you, Harry. Maybe you can teach my
friend here how worth it sex can be.”
Louis flips Zayn off, but Zayn only smiles back, winking again as he
leaves.
54
“Oh! That’s it! I got it!” Niall exclaims suddenly, jumping out of his
chair, seeming to have found whatever he was looking for in his book.
“Shit, I gotta go—nice to meet you, Harry. Sorry, I didn’t get to talk
to you much.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Harry waves him off politely. “Another time.”
“That is if there is another time, I may never bring you around these
lot again.” Louis says as what might be a joke with an underlying
serious tone.
Soon Liam’s pager follows suit, beeping incessantly and causing him
to go running out of the cafeteria just as Niall and Zayn had, leaving
Harry and Louis alone at the once lively table.
“So...is that a common thing around here?” Harry wonders, snacking

on a peanut butter coated celery stick as he leans back in his chair.
“What? Hook-ups in on-call rooms?” Louis raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, does that, like, happen…a lot?”
“More than I’d like to know.” Louis answers. “But yeah it does.
Apparently people can’t keep it in their pants until they get home.
Especially if they spend most of their time here.”
“Hmm.” Harry hums in consideration before leaning his elbows down

on the table to look at Louis curiously. “So have you ever…”
“…What?”
“You know…” Harry wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “…Hooked

up with someone in an on-call room?”
55
Louis whacks his shoulder, expression pulled into a surprised frown.
“Are you really asking me about my sex life!? I hardly know you! We
met yesterday!”
“And we’ve been through so much since then!” Harry defends, biting
back a laugh. “We live together now, we were literally just accused of
fucking, you’ve seen me cry, I’ve seen you naked—”
“You have not seen me naked!” Louis argues, shoving Harry this time.
“I saw you shirtless—whatever, same thing.” Harry shrugs with a

smirk.
“Not the same thing but…ok.”
“Anyway, we’ve jumped sooo many levels of friendship in just 24

hours!” Harry continues, grinning. “I think it’s a fair question.”
Louis lifts his chin up, narrowing his eyes at Harry. “For your
information, I find on-call room hookups to be cheap and dirty and
hardly worth my time, so no. Anyone that I decide to fuck has the
decency to want to do it elsewhere.”
“A man of standard, I respect that.” Harry nods with another grin.
“Would you?” Louis turns the question right around, narrowing his
own eyes at Harry. “You’re gonna be here for awhile, you never know
who might offer to have a go at it in a twin-sized bunk bed in a room
with paper thin walls. Extremely romantic.”
“I mean, I could potentially see the excitement of it—the thrill and all
that but…no.” Harry decides slowly. “That wouldn’t be my thing.”
“Mm I see.” Louis nods curiously, eyes still narrowed. “And what
would your thing be then?”
56
“Ooh…we don’t know each other well enough for that.” Harry smirks
knowingly.
Louis shoves him again, nearly causing Harry to fall from his chair
laughing. “You dick! A few minutes ago we were best friends
according to you. And now you want to keep secrets.”
Harry cackles loudly, leaning over himself. “I like you, Lou. You’re
hilarious.”
||☤||
“Louis, I have the best idea!” Harry bursts into Louis’ room excitedly.
Louis blears at the clock on his bedside table, almost not believing his
eyes. “Oh my god…You’ve gotta be shitting me, Harry…”
Harry drops onto Louis’ bed undeterred, snuggling right into the free
side as if he belongs there. Funny that, because he’s only been staying
with Louis for just about two weeks now and he already has no
problem making himself completely at home. Harry curls up close to
Louis, hovering over him. “Here me out, ok?”
“Sleep.” Louis groans, pulling a spare pillow over his head. “I.
am. Sleeping!”
“Ok, yeah I know, I’m sorry—but I had this idea and I had to tell you
right away! You ready?” Harry asks eagerly, raising an eyebrow at
Louis.
“Am I ready?! Did you really just ask me if I? Am? Ready? At fucking
4:30 in the goddamn morning!?” Louis snaps. He’s always cranky in
the mornings, but this is barely morning, it’s an inhuman time of day.
And this is his day off, essentially his only time to ever sleep in.
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“Louis, please.” Harry asks again and there’s something hidden behind
his voice that Louis can’t quite place in his sleepy state of mind.
“Do you even sleep, demon boy?” Louis grunts, flipping onto his back
as he groans again. He peeks one tired eye open at Harry. “Why did I
ever let you into my house?”
“No…I…I can’t sleep—not since…um…” Harry answers seriously,

stumbling over his words as voice falls quiet and raw. And that’s when
Louis places it. He knows exactly why this sounds so familiar, it’s
because he’s been there.
Something in Louis softens inexplicably even despite the exhaustion

he feels tugging at his core. He shifts his body towards Harry, rubbing
his eyes awake and settling his gaze on his face. Louis notices the
drawn lines of fatigue, the deep dark circles ringing around Harry’s
eyes, the worry seeping from his pores and Louis’ heart immediately
goes out to him. He’s been there, he’s had his share of sleepless nights
and wide awake mornings, praying for something—anything to distract
his mind.
“Go on then…I’m already awake, might as well get on with it.” Louis
huffs, but there’s not any real irritation behind his words anymore,
only gentle understanding.
Even in the dark of the room, Louis can clearly see Harry’s smile
spread across his face, obviously relieved that Louis isn’t going to kick
him out.
“Alright, here it goes: Ice cream and wine floats. Boom.” Harry
pretends to drop an imaginary mic on the bedspread. “You know, like
a root beer float…but wine instead.”
“You’re serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”
58
Louis laughs, he full on laughs, tossing his head back against the
headboard with his eyes squeezed shut. It’s probably the hardest he’s
ever laughed since he moved to Seattle and it’s all because of Harry
Styles at ass-o-clock in the morning. “Oh my god, you are the strangest
person I’ve ever met.”
“Well thank you.” Harry beams like he takes those words as the highest
form of compliment.
Louis keeps laughing, somehow unable to stop now that he’s started.
But it feels really good to just laugh completely uninhabited, he hasn’t
felt this randomly carefree and light in who knows how long.
Harry just watches him, tilting his head to the side as though
completely fascinated by Louis. “You have a pretty laugh.”
“I don’t think I’ve laughed like this in ages.” Louis admits, finally
settling down.
“That’s a shame, you should laugh all the time. It’s lovely sound…”
Harry whispers in what sounds like awe, still watching Louis closely.
“Mmm.” Louis hums softly, just staring at Harry in the close proximity
of his bed. He sort of wonders what it’d feel like to kiss Harry—his
lips are so full and they look almost inhumanly soft, but they can’t
possibly be as soft as they look, right? Louis could wonder that back
and forth for hours in fascination, but instead he clears his throat,
sitting up and letting his sheets pool at his hips. “So I suppose ice
cream and wine floats could very well be a stroke of genius…or it
could be fucking horrible.”
“Wanna find out?” Harry tempts, raising an eyebrow as he follows suit

and sits up on the bed as well.
“I hate to break it to you, but 5 A.M. is not really the typical alcoholic
dessert hour.” Louis smirks.
59
“Oh, who really cares, Lou?” Harry grins, grabbing Louis’ hand to pull
him out of bed. “Let’s call it dessert for breakfast.”
“Ok…” Louis smiles, following after Harry willingly. “But only

because I don’t have to go in to the hospital today.”
||☤||
“It’s…different.” Louis decides slowly, spoon hanging out of the side of

his mouth as he considers the flavors. Harry made a total of three
concoctions with what they had in the kitchen. One is a peach sorbet
mixed with moscato, the second is a strawberry ice cream paired with
rosé and the last one is completely out of the box, salted caramel ice
cream with a dark sherry.
“Yes…it is very…different…” Harry tilts his head to the side in
consideration, eyes narrowed. “But…dare I say…a…good different?”
“Hmm…” Louis dips his spoon back into the last cup to taste it again.
They’ve been going back and forth, repeatedly trying each one of
Harry’s wine floats while stupidly speaking like pompous old wine
tasters. Oddly enough, the salted caramel one is growing on him.
“Definitely a different different.”
“The best kind of different.” Harry adds, grinning wide.
“You’re an idiot.” Louis laughs in a fond sort of way.
“A different kind of idiot.” Harry amends, raising his eyebrows.
Louis laughs even more, eyes crinkled.
“Really, I’m just saying stupid shit to get you to keep laughing.” Harry
admits, still grinning down at Louis.
Louis smiles, dropping his gaze down to the floor as he shakes his
head.
60
“So does it ever get lonely in this big house by yourself?” Harry asks
randomly, leaning against the countertop.
Louis lifts his head back up. “Uh well…I’ve only been properly living
here a few months since I started the program at SSMC, but...yeah I
guess sometimes it does…” That’s a total understatement and he
knows it. It got so lonely that he hardly ever came home, always trying
to find somewhere else to be—usually the hospital.
“You should get a pet or something.” Harry suggests.
“I have a pet or something…” Louis looks to Harry pointedly,

smirking.
“I’m not a pet.” Harry pouts, slapping Louis’ shoulder lightly.
“I provide shelter for you, I get out of my warm bed to entertain you,
I feed you—a pet.”
“But I cook.” Harry defends, wagging a finger at him. “Could a pet

cook for you?”
“A good one could.” Louis jokes.
“Shut up.” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Ok, but seriously, I think
you should get a dog. Man’s best friend and all that, you know?”
“But I don’t have time for a dog.” Louis argues, and he’s not lying, he
really doesn’t have the time.
“What do you have time for?” Harry rolls his eyes a bit.
“Nothing.” Louis sighs.
Harry leans in closer, still leant up against the countertop. “Does being
an intern make you this unbearably lame?”
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“Erm, no?” Louis tries, scrunching up his nose. “Well yes. Probably.”
“You need a dog.” Harry repeats again with even more certainty.
“Spice up your life a bit.”
“And explain to me how having a dog spices up my life?” Louis

questions, arms crossed over his chest.
“It just does. Go with me on this.” Harry insists knowingly. “You’ve

got this beautiful house all to yourself, but there’s no one but you in
it.”
“You’re here.” Louis reminds.
“Yeah…for right now.”
Louis falters a bit at that, he’s enjoyed having Harry around for past
few weeks and he doesn’t like thinking of when he might not be
around anymore. “But I—I’m hardly home! I told you I practically live
at the hospital.”
“Ok yeah, but when you are home it’s what? Just you and the dust
bunnies.” Harry sighs, shaking his head with disapproval.
“Hey…” Louis pouts a little in offense.
“Come on, let’s go.” Harry tells him, grabbing his hand. “We’re getting
you a dog.”
“Now?!” Louis widens his eyes in total surprise.
“Yes, now!” Harry insists adamantly, practically dragging Louis out of

the kitchen. “There’s no time like the present. And you’re off today,
it’s perfect!”
“I think it’s you who really wants a dog, but you’re deflecting on me.”
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“Fine, you caught me. If you get a dog, it’ll be like me getting a dog
cuz I’m here all the time anyway. I’m living vicariously through you.
Happy now?”
“Yeah, actually.” Louis nods.
And that’s how they end up at an animal rescue shelter, showing up

right when it opens. There’s no one else there besides a few workers,
why would there be? Who in their right mind adopts a dog at 7 A.M.?
Harry, apparently.
They walk, stride for stride down the long hall of enclosed gates at the
shelter, each containing a poor canine without a home. Harry looks
each one of them over carefully, but keeps walking as though he knows
exactly what he’s looking for but just hasn’t found it yet. It seems like
they’ve been walking the rows for ages, Louis just entertaining Harry
with no actual intention of adopting a dog. What is he going to do with
a dog? He can barely care for himself in all honestly.
Harry halts abruptly, pivoting his heel to face a particular gate and
Louis practically collides right into him. “This one.”
Louis turns slowly to face the cage. There lies a miserable little
abandoned puppy, with the saddest dopiest eyes Louis has ever seen.
The poor thing looks absolutely pathetic and depressed, like he’s been
kicked. “That one?”
“Yes, that one.” Harry nods, reading over the little information placard
attached to the outside of the gate. “He’s just a puppy. And it says here
that he’s an English Springer Spaniel mix.” He turns to beam at Louis
excitedly with wide eyes like a little boy. “Lou! Now we have got to
take him home, he’s English!”
Louis raises an incredulous eyebrow. “We?”
63
“You!” Harry adjusts, draping an arm over Louis’ shoulders and
bumping their hips together repeatedly. “You’ve got to take him home!
Aww, look at those big sad eyes.”
Louis looks back at the dog over his shoulder, eyeing the odd pup
curiously. “Hmm he looks a bit like that one actor…”
“Which one?” Harry wonders, squinting his eyes at the puppy trying
to visualize it before Louis has even said anything.
“You know the one who played on Doctor Who?” Louis tries to
remember, squinting his eyes. “Umm Benedict Cumbersome or
Cucumber or Cockfuck or something?”
“Cockfuck, really?” Harry bursts into surprised high pitched laughter,
throwing his head back with his eyes squinted shut. “Because that’s
obviously a typical last name.”
“I mean…I did say or something.” Louis reminds cheekily with a
knowing smirk.
“I believe it’s Cumberbatch.” Harry corrects after he has settled his

laughter enough to talk again.
“Ooh right, right…that’s it!” Louis smiles smugly, wagging a knowing

finger to Harry. “Benedict Cumberbatch. He looks just like that guy!”
Harry tilts his head in consideration, chewing on his inner cheek as he

eyes the dog. “Hmm…I guess he kinda does…”
“It’s the eyes I think.” Louis observes, inclining his own head in
thought. “No…maybe the ears?”
Harry shrugs, moving to open up the cage and pick up the puppy.
“Come on, Lil Benedict. You’re coming home with us.”
“Wait, what?” Louis frowns, looking down at the dog cuddled to

Harry’s chest. “You can’t be serious.”
64
“Dead serious.” Harry confirms, holding the puppy’s face up to Louis’.
“Look at this face. How can you say no to this little sad English face?”
“Easily. No.”
“He needs a home, Lou! He needs love—he needs you—”
“Stop…”
Harry turns the dog around and holds the puppy’s head next to his
own, pouting the same way, eyes somehow becoming bigger. “Pleaseee
take me home. You already took in one English stray, what’s one
more?” He talks for the dog, speaking in a babyish but still endearingly
cute voice.
Louis shakes his head at him, but feels his resolve diminishing.
“And he’s already got the perfect name and everything.” Harry
continues to beg. “Come on, this is fate.”
“Fate.” Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“What? You don’t believe in fate?” Harry questions with a frown.
“Erm…I mean I do…yeah…I guess.” Louis debates, leaning his head

to the side. “But not when it relates to a dog.”
“Fate’s in the small things just as much as the big things.” Harry tells
him in certainty.
Louis’ lips gradually upturn into a smirk. “You’re a philosopher now

too, I see.”
“Not as my day job–well it doesn’t quite pay the bills.” Harry teases
dumbly. “But I do know some things are simply fated to happen. No
65
use fighting it. Which is why you have to take our new friend home
where he belongs.”
Louis sighs, feeling like there is no way Harry is going to let him get
out of this. “Ugh fine.”
“Yay! You have a home now, Benny!” Harry lifts the pup up above his
head happily.
“I can’t believe I’m spending my one day off adopting a dog.”
“A day well spent honestly.” Harry beams from ear to ear, dimples
digging deeply at his cheeks.
“Says you. The man who forced me to do it.” Louis tries to complain,
but he truly doesn’t feel that upset about it, more so fascinated by the
bright smile on Harry’s face.
“I didn’t really have to twist your arm all that much, but if you want to
blame me for bringing a new source of joy into your life then so be it.”
“You’re fucking impossible.” Louis sighs again.
They take Benedict home and Harry insists that they take him out for
a walk, claiming that he needs to acclimate himself to his new home.
And unsurprisingly, young Benny full of endless life and bubbling
energy, ends up busting free from the leash Harry is holding him by
and talks off running towards the woods. Harry chases after the puppy,
screaming the entire time and Louis reluctantly follows after him,
forging through the thick forest.
“Fuck—I’m out of shape…” Louis huffs as he, not so gracefully, runs

behind Harry. “Is it just me or are we going uphill?”
“It’s not just you.” Harry pants, following after the left behind paw
prints in the mud.
66
“This is embarrassing…I think I need to take up running or something
to improve my cardio.”
“You and me both. I liked to consider myself fit, but obviously I’m no
match for our new little friend.”
“I’ll say…” Louis sighs, forcing himself to keep moving.
“Benny! Come here, boy!” Harry shouts for the millionth time. He’s
been calling the dog to absolutely no avail. At first, they could at least
see his little tail wagging in the distance behind the trees, but now there
are almost no signs of the pup.
“I told you a dog was a bad idea…” Louis reminds, shaking his head
as they pause for a moment to catch their breath. “He’s been ours for
not even a single day and he’s already running rampant.”
“He’s just a puppy, Lou. It happens, we’ll train him.”
“You’ll train him.” Louis corrects pointedly. “That is if we even find

him. He’s so fast. Are English Spaniels hunter breeds? Because we will
never catch him at this rate—”
“Shit! There he is!” Harry jumps into motion as he spots the furry
speckled dog, standing just up the dirt laden path. “Benedict! Stop!
Heel! Stay!”
Louis crosses his arms over his chest and gives Harry a look. “So is he
supposed to magically already know what those words mean or…”
“Shut up, he’ll learn them.” Harry tries. “...I hope….”
Louis sighs again, shaking his head, watching on as Harry tiptoes

towards the puppy, obviously trying his best not to spook him away
before he has a chance to catch him. Benedict stays still in his spot, tail
wagging happily as though he thinks this has all been some sort of
game.
67
“That’s it Benedict, you’re a good boy, right? You’re not gonna run off
again. You’re a good, good boy.” And right when Harry almost grabs
his collar, Benedict takes off again, shooting further up the hill.
“No! No! Benny please buddy!” Harry groans in frustration, nearly

falling over as he attempts to go after the disobedient dog
again. “You’re not helping me convince Louis to love you! Don’t you
want him to love you?”
Louis cackles, watching Harry slip and slide in the mud.
“Oh my god, he stopped.” Harry gasps in total surprise, looking back

at Louis. “What the fuck, that actually got him to stop. I
can’t believe this dog!”
Louis only laughs harder with that, bent over his knees. And while
Louis continues to laugh at him, Harry somehow manages to finally
capture their mischievous pup, clipping him back up to his leash.
“I got him! See, he just wants your approval, Lou. All he wants is for
you to love him.”
“Well of course I love him now.” Louis calms his giggles, bending
down to affectionately scratch behind Benedict’s ears. “Anyone who
can get you to look that stupid has my entire heart. He’s a proper lad
now, aren’t you Benny?”
Even on a leash, Benedict still wants to keep walking, tugging against

the strain of his harness towards the top of the hill.
“I mean...we might as well go the rest of the way.” Harry shrugs,

already giving into the dog’s pull of the leash.
“This dog already has you totally whipped.” Louis smirks, shaking his
head with a chuckle as he follows after Harry and Benedict.
68
Together, they near the edge of the dense forest, bright light peering
through the branches. The dirt path fades out into a grassy clearing of
beautiful open space overlooking Seattle from a distance. The way the
rolling hilltops meet the sun looks almost unreal at this height.
Everything is vibrant and golden, almost like walking into another far
off, mythical world.
Louis and Harry both collectively gasp as they take in the scene before
them, standing in the midst of the quiet field sprinkled with wild
flowers.
“Have you ever been up here before?” Harry wonders in awe.
“No...” Louis shakes his head slowly “I had no idea it existed.”
“This must be Seattle’s best kept secret.”
The wind rolls over the soft, long bladed grass, like waves of the ocean,
The silence of the space stretches out for peaceful miles.
“Standing up here, it feels like we are the only people who know it
exists.”
So they sit and spread themselves out in the gentle grass. With no one
to disturb them, no one to find them, Harry and Louis stay up there,
with Benedict draped over their legs, until the sun slowly starts to set.
The horizon paints like a masterpiece, splotches of color reflecting
across the warm hued sky. And with a view like this to reflect on, they
can almost pretend they don’t have a single care in the world.
||✚||
Everything with Louis is easy. Comfortably easy. Louis understands

Harry naturally, without having to put much effort into it and Harry
never feels like he is having to overly explain or justify himself like he
does with other people. Louis just…gets it. And he makes this whole
shitty situation so much easier. Bearable.
69
As the weeks pass, they fall into a bit of a routine with each other.
They spend the nights that Louis isn’t on-call just talking and joking
around together. Sometimes Harry cooks, other times they sit picking
at take out boxes, playing with Benedict and drinking that same god-
awful cheap wine paired with their favorite ice cream flavors. It’s
effortless and it’s comforting. With Louis, Harry can forget about his
problems for a while and just breathe.
Sometimes Harry wonders what happened to Louis, where he came

from. Sure, he knows he moved here for the surgical program, but
what happened before that? There are little pieces of him hidden away
that he carefully skirts around, that he doesn’t ever talk about. But
Harry would never push because he hardly likes to talk about his own
past. In fact, if Louis didn’t already know parts of it from Gemma,
Harry probably would avoid talking about it completely.
Why talk about it? Why revel in the worst times of his life, why dissect
and rehash memories he’d rather let fade? Being passed around from
home to home as a kid, never having a real place to call his own. To
be honest, Harry doesn’t know what it’s like to stay still, he has no idea
what it feels like to lay down solid roots in one place. It’s probably why
he was so compelled to backpack across Europe, finding a comforting
appeal in always being on the move.
But as of now, he’s been in one place, in one house far longer than
he’s spent anywhere in years and Harry finds it oddly refreshing. He
could get used to it if he allowed himself and maybe it’s high time he
stopped hopping from place to place and learned to call somewhere
home.
During the days Harry spends his time glued to Gemma’s side, never
leaving her room. In all honesty, he get’s so worried about her that he
doesn’t even want to leave in the evenings. Gemma has to practically
beg him to go and sometimes Louis has to physically pull him out of
the room to come home with him.
Sometimes, when he and Gemma are simply joking around like they
used to, Harry can almost trick himself into believing everything is fine.
70
He can force his mind into an alternate reality where Gemma isn’t sick
and these aren’t the walls of a hospital room. That they are just two
best friends watching a movie together or two close knit siblings
playing a heated game of scrabble.
It works most days, at least somewhat. Harry shuts everything out for
as long as he can, trying his best to just live in the moment and enjoy
his sister’s welcome company. But there are also other days, like today,
when the truth is slapped against Harry’s face so hard it nearly
paralyzes him.
They’re sat together on Gemma’s hospital bed, legs crisscrossed over

her lavender sheets, painting each other’s nails. Gemma already coated
Harry’s in a deep plum color and now he’s doing hers in a light teal.
It’s taking longer than it should because they can hardly sit still,
constantly laughing with each other as always.
“Oh my god, remember that one time—” Gemma starts, interrupting

herself with her own giggles. “We were staying with those horribly
prudish foster parents…and they wouldn’t let you paint your nails…”
“Ohh…” Harry sighs, already laughing as he shakes his head, knowing

exactly where this is going.
“So you colored them in with permanent marker?” Gemma cackles,

biting her lip. “It didn’t come out for weeks.”
“All of my fingers were stained fucking black with ink.” Harry snickers
at his own expense.
“Hilaaarious.” Gemma laughs, stretching out the word. “And I think

you were, like, eleven or something…so you were more than old
enough to know better.”
“I knew better, but I didn’t care. There’s a difference.” Harry smiles,

holding his head up defiantly. “I was proving a point and making a
71
statement, which was more than a good cause to embarrass myself. I
stood my ground.”
“Yeah, you did.” Gemma smiles proudly. “I always admired you for
that.”
Harry grins back. “I’m pretty sure all of my stubbornness was learned
directly from you.”
“Bullshit.” Gemma laughs, slapping Harry’s knee with her newly

panted hand.
“True shit.” Harry argues, smiling wider. “You’re the most stubborn
person on this earth, I swear to god. All hail the queen of
stubbornness.”
“Well if I’m the queen, you my dear brother must be the king, you
stubborn ass.”
“Mm no, I’m a prince at most.” Harry contests with a shake of his long
curls. “I’m hardly stubborn enough to sit at the king’s thrown next to
you, my liege.”
“Look! You’re being exceptionally stubborn right now!” Gemma

holds an accusing finger to him, eyebrows raised. “You’re only proving
my point, your highness.”
“Oh shut up.” Harry laughs wholeheartedly again.
A knocks sounds on the already open door, and Dr. Carmichael stands
tentatively in the empty doorway with a chart in hand. “Is this a bad
time?”
“No, no it’s alright. Come in, have a chat.” Gemma smiles, waving her
doctor into the room happily. Harry likes Dr. Carmichael, especially
since Gemma seems to especially like her. She’s compassionate and
caring and there’s something really genuine and open about her.
72
Dr. Carmichael smiles, walking further into the room. “You know, I
always love a good chat with you, Gemma. I wish I was visiting under
better conditions this time, but I do have something we need to talk
about.”
Gemma nods, seeming unsurprised, but Harry immediately feels his

heart rate pick up. He doesn’t understand how his sister can be so calm
about all this, it doesn’t make sense for her to be so at peace when
faced with more potentially life-threatening news. Harry wishes it was
good news, but with the somber tone and solemn mannerisms of Dr.
Carmichael, he knows that is not the case.
“Gemma, your latest scans aren’t good.” Dr. Carmichael informs

solemnly, eyes gentle. “Your prior glioma is impeding and we’ve
discovered new aggressive anaplastic cells on your right temporal
lobe.”
“What does that mean exactly?” Gemma asks quietly and Harry
immediately takes her hand in his, trying to slow down his pulse.
“It means that the longer we wait to operate, the worse your condition
will get. The division of the cancerous cells in your brain is
unpredictable. The risk is becoming far too great.”
“So you’re saying if she doesn’t have the surgery now, she could…”
Harry’s voice trails, complexion quickly losing color. He doesn’t want
to say it out loud, he doesn’t want to give the concept open space to
become a reality. “…She could have less time?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, yes.” Dr. Carmichael confirms, nodding
slowly. “Our original plan allowed Gemma to carry to term, with the
expectation that hopefully no new growths would manifest in her
temporal lobe. But unfortunately, with the reduction of treatment due
to the baby’s safety, the masses in her brain are progressing out of
control. It’s becoming far too dangerous to leave untreated at this stage
and I worry that waiting any longer could be catastrophic. We really
do need to operate.”
73
“What about the baby?” Gemma worries, holding her free hand
protectively over her swollen belly.
“Oh my god! Just forget about the baby!” Harry erupts suddenly in
irrational frustration as he turns to face his sister. “They are trying to
save your life, Gemma!”
“Harry—”
“No!” Harry shakes his head, refusing to listen to her this time. “Why
aren’t you more concerned about yourself?! Why won’t you let them
help you!?”
“Because I have terminal cancer, Harry! They can’t save me!

They can’t!” Gemma responds, raising her voice only slightly to get her
brother’s attention. “They are trying to give me a few more months,
but I am going to die. I am. But this baby still has a real chance to live.”
“You don’t k-know that, you don’t know that you’re going to d-die.
What if the surgery saves you what if—what if…” Harry starts crying,
overwhelmed and unable to keep his emotions at bay anymore. It
doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t. And it seems like he is the only one who
doesn’t get it, who refuses to get it. Why won’t she fight harder? Why
does it seem like she has already given up before it’s even over? Why
won’t she prioritize herself? Why can’t more be done for his sister?
Why won’t she do something?
“We will try to hold off on the surgery as long as we can for the sake
of the baby.” Dr. Carmichael decides, already excusing herself towards
the door as she can probably sense they need time alone. “We can
discuss further later…but how about I give you two some privacy.”
Harry drops himself into one of the bedside chairs, hiking his knees
up to his chest as he tries as hard as he can to stop crying. He rocks
himself a bit, ankles crossed at the edge of the chair, holding his body
together with both of he arms clasped over his drawn up legs.
“Harry?”
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He keeps his head buried down to his knees, not ready to face his sister
just yet. He feels so helplessly frustrated, not knowing how to shake
this feeling that’s consuming him from the inside out. It’s torture.
“Please Harry, just look at me?” Gemma tries again gently and she
sounds like she’s trying really hard not to start crying herself, voice
cracking a bit. “Please…”
Harry rubs his entire face against his sleeve, before slightly lifting his
head to tearfully look up at her.
She’s holding a small box in her lap, looking down at it for a long
moment. Her cheeks are wet and her hands are unsteady atop the
package “It’s for her…and you. For when I’m gone. I was going to
wait to give it to you, but now I…”
Harry starts shaking his head wildly. She keeps planning for a future
she is certain she won’t be a part of, she’s so ready to erase her presence
in his life and every time she does, every time Gemma tries to cut her
life short, it feels like a dagger struck straight through Harry’s heart.
The tears begin falling harder as he continues to shake his head

frantically. “No. Gemma, you aren’t gone yet, you’re—”
“Harry.” Gemma stresses his name, but her voice is as soft as the look
in her eyes. “I know you don’t want to think about me not being here.
I don’t want to think about it either. But you have to be strong, you’ll
get through this—”
“Gemma stop! Stop talking to me like you’re already dead! You’re still
here! You’re still here…” Harry continues rocking his body back and
forth, muttering the words over and over again as the tears stream
down his cheeks relentlessly.
He’s been trying so hard to stay positive, trying to keep some

semblance of faith alive in his heart. He kept telling himself it will all
work itself out in the end, somehow everything will be alright because
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miracles happen and sometimes things really do work out. But
this…this isn’t turning out to be one of those times. This is real, it’s
happening whether he opens his eyes to it or not—his sister is dying
and there is not a damn thing he can do about it.
Like a ruptured dam, Harry sobs, head once again rested down against
the tops of his pulled up knees. Somehow he is sitting, yet he feels like
he can’t quite hold himself up any longer, like he could collapse and
collapse and collapse until he’s nothing but a puddle on the cold hard
floor.
“Oh, come here, H.” Gemma holds her arms out to him, wanting so
much just to hold him. “If you’re going to cry, at least come cry and
cuddle with me.”
And there’s nothing Harry needs more than to be cocooned by his

sister’s arms, so he drags himself up on weak, weary legs and crawls
into the hospital bed with her. He curls himself around her pregnant
body, twisting their legs together.
“You know I love you, right?” Gemma whispers to the crown of his
head, rubbing his back softly.
Harry nods without words, arms wrapped around his sister as he rests
his head just above her baby bump.
“Oh, I love you so much, Harry. You’ve always held my entire heart.”
Gemma professes. “I can’t stop thinking of you— all I want is to
protect you. I wish I could protect you from all of this and take it
away...but I can’t. I guess that’s why I keep talking about it so casually.
To offset the blow of it maybe. I don’t want this to break you.”
“It already is.” Harry whispers, sniffling. “Gemma, nothing you say or
do is going to make this any easier...I love you, you’re the most
important person in my life.”
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“I know, I know, H.” Gemma comforts, lips pressed against his hair
as she tries to console him. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”
“I just…I…I don’t know how to survive l-losing you…” The tears

break Harry’s face as he starts to sob again.
Gemma holds him tighter because that’s all she really can do. At this
point, it’s out of her control—it’s out of anyone’s control. So they hold
on to each other while they still can, crying together in each other’s
trembling arms as they try to make sense of and prepare for the
looming future awaiting them.
||☤||
Louis hops out of his outdated bucket of a car, pausing to stretch his
exhausted limbs. It’s nearing 5 A.M. and he is just now getting home.
He was stuck in surgery, which he is in no way complaining about. It’s
an honor to get to stand in on any major surgeries as an intern. This
time he just happened to be in the right place at the right time and he
was the nearest intern available.
And when The Chief of Surgery asked him to hold the retractor for
his seven-hour surgery, Louis held that retractor steady for seven,
long, grueling hours without a single peep of complaint.
Needless to say his back is shot to shit.
Louis waddles towards the front door, fiddling around with his keys as
he drags his feet. He looks up at the porch and finds Harry sitting on
the swing quietly, unmoving.
“Harry?” Louis calls, walking over to him gradually. “Have you been
out here all night?”
Harry blinks and looks around, seeming to do so for the first time in
hours, only now registering what time it must be. “Oh…um…I guess
so. Yeah…”
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Louis sits down on the swing next to him. They sit for a moment in
silence, before Louis wraps an arm around Harry, gently guiding his
head down to rest on Louis’ shoulder. Harry doesn’t contest, instead
he nuzzles closer to Louis, welcoming the comfort.
“I just keep thinking that any moment she could just—” Harry’s voice
drops off as he sucks in a harsh breath. It takes him a minute to
recompose himself, curling closer to Louis. “And it’s like she’s pushing
me away—trying to prepare me or whatever. But… she’s not gone
yet…she’s not…”
Louis rubs Harry’s back soothingly in small circles, remaining quiet as

he lets Harry get it all out.
“She’s everything to me, Lou. She’s the only person I have left…”
Harry whispers brokenly, heavy water building up behind his hushed
voice. “It was just us. My whole life it’s just been us—me and Gem
against the world…and I…” He shakes his head slowly, staring out
straight ahead. “I’m not ready to lose her. I can’t—I…I just…”
“Come on, let’s go.” Louis decides suddenly, knowing exactly what
Harry needs right now.
Harry sits up a bit, lifting his head to meet Louis’ eyes in confusion.
“What? But don’t you have to go back in today?”
“I do get breaks, you know.” Louis answers with a small smile. “They
may be short and fleeting, but they do happen every blue moon. I
exceeded my hours for the week and I’m not on-call today.”
“But you haven’t even slept…”
“Neither have you.” Louis points out. He stands to his feet and holds
out his hand to Harry. “Come on.”
“Where?” Harry questions curiously, taking Louis’ hand and following

after him regardless.
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“Somewhere only we know.”
They pack a backpack full of food, a hodgepodge of leftover takeout

and random snacks and signature crappy wine, and they climb up the
hill that leads to their favorite clearing. With Benedict in tow, eagerly
running ahead of them on a leash, Harry and Louis take their time
walking up the newly forged path, hands linked together.
When they reach the top, they both pause for a moment to take it all
in. Up here it’s like the world as they know it fades away completely.
Everything falls to a standstill and nothing matters, except the moment
they’re living in. They’ve never been up here at such an early hour of
the morning and they’re just in time to spread out on the gentle
meadow and watch the sky paint and transform with color as the sun
rises from the east.
And with the way the fresh light is already peeking out from the
mountaintops, Louis just knows it’s about to be a truly beautiful day.
“Do you ever think about your future?” Harry asks out of the blue as
he stares up at the clear sky. They’ve just finished eating their
impromptu picnic and they’re laid out, backs pressed against the soft,
dewy grass.
“Yeah, sometimes…” Louis answers, eyes closed as the sun warms his
face. “Why?”
“Oh, well I dunno really…it’s just that…” Harry pauses, glancing at

Louis and there’s an air of nervousness in his tone.
After several beats of silence, Louis opens his eyes, turning his head to
Harry questioningly. “Just what?”
Harry sits up a bit, a determined glint to his brow. “Ok—I’m gonna

be honest with you—can I be honest with you, Lou?”
“Always, H. You can say anything.” Louis promises softly.

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Harry relaxes marginally, settling back down against the ground.
“So…I have this vision, right? Like a little film I play in my head when
I don’t really like how my life is—which is constantly lately, but
anyway…I guess it’s like a goal of sorts…”
“A goal? Like a life goal?” Louis asks curiously, propping his head up
with one arm as he lays on his side towards Harry.
“Yeah, exactly.” Harry confirms with a nod. “Just simple list of things,
you know? They aren’t anything particularly grand. Just normal things.
Things I never really had before, but I always wanted.”
“Like what?” Louis wonders, watching Harry intently. “Describe it for

me, Harry. I want to picture it.”
“Um…ok…” Harry looks down laughing nervously as a slight blush

creeps along his cheeks. “Well I call it my Someday List—and I’ve
never told anyone this or said it out loud before and now even the title
sounds dumb. I can practically feel you judging me.”
“It’s not dumb. And I’m not judging you at all.” Louis promises
seriously, inching his body a bit closer to Harry. He brushes his
knuckles against Harry’s forearm gently. “If you want to share it with
me, I’d love to know. What’s on the list?”
Harry lies back on the grass, looking up at the open blue sky again.
“Well the premise of it is uh me—obviously, and I’m married and
we’re…happy. Not just any kind of happy, but…like, a real kind of
happy, if that makes sense? One that I’ve never really experienced
before…and we have a family—a beautiful, loving family. And the list
is all the little things and traditions I want for us to someday have apart
of our everyday lives.” He explains, although a bit bashfully, still
uncertain. “Have I lost you yet?”
“No, no…keep going.” Louis encourages gently, dropping himself

back as well, lying flat against the crisp, dewy grass, focusing solely on
Harry’s voice.
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“Ok um…well…it’s having brunch every weekend on Saturdays
because Sunday is far too cliché.” Harry starts, getting right into it.
“Saturday brunch?” Louis considers slowly. “That sounds nice. I’ve

never thought to have it on a Saturday.”
“It makes more sense if you really think about it. Saturday is just a
better day.” Harry explains seriously. “I could go on about that, but
then we’d probably never have time for me to tell you the rest of the
list so anyway…it’s mini spontaneous weekend trips where we just
throw all our shit in the car, grab the kids, and go. Who knows where,
who knows why, we just go.”
“Just like that?” Louis asks, raising a curious eyebrow.
“Just like that.” Harry nods, smiling. “A completely random and

unplanned vacation. The kids will love it.”
Louis matches Harry’s smile. “How many kids exactly?”
“Umm…at least four.” Harry decides slowly. “I think it’d be cool to

have two boys and two girls.”
“Four is a good number.” Louis agrees, a big family always sounded

perfect to him, especially considering the large family he came from.
“I’m a fan of symmetry and all that.” Harry laughs a bit, curls blowing
in the gentle breeze. “But it really doesn’t matter, I just want loads of
little babies running around our house.”
“That sounds lovely.” Louis grins, slow and warm. “What else?”
“It’s dating.” Harry says next.
“Dating? Just dating? That’s rather simple, isn’t it?”
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“No, not just dating. Dating as in we never stop dating.” Harry explains
further. “Even when we’re old and married and set in our stupid ways,
I still want to date them and have little date nights and lunch dates and
just…dates.”
“Dates.” Louis echoes, peeking over at Harry.
Harry gets a stupid look on his face. “We’ll date the shit out of each
other.”
Louis laughs, eyes crinkled. “I guess you’d never lose the spark that
way.”
“Mhmm…I promise to fall in love with something new about them

every day for as long as we live.” Harry professes and there is a glint
in his eye that’s just…intoxicating.
“Harry Styles, you’re such a sweet old romantic.”
“Am I?”
Louis nods, feeling himself start to smile uncontrollably.

“Completely.”
“Well it probably doesn’t help that my list would never, ever be

complete without long carefree drives at sunrise and evening walks at
sunset.” Harry smirks and Louis can hardly tell if he’s joking or serious.
“Oh, of course not.” Louis grins knowingly. “I’d be more shocked and
disappointed if those weren’t on the list, to be honest.”
“I figured.” Harry laughs, lying back on his back. “Anyway…it’s

ridiculously over the top and nearly obnoxious Christmases, with
cookie decorating and handmade holiday ornaments and the ugliest of
sweaters and annoying Christmas music blasting in our house for two
months straight.”
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“That definitely sounds like all the trimmings.”
“I’m not joking, I want festivity shooting out of our asses.” Harry
states seriously, turning back to face Louis and watching on as Louis,
of course, starts to laugh. “If my whole family isn’t smelling like
gingerbread and wrapped up in Christmas lights with a wreath hanging
from each of their necks, then I won’t be happy.”
Louis continues giggling, finding Harry ridiculous yet wonderfully

endearing as usual. “Did you know I’m a Christmas baby—well
Christmas Eve, but still.”
Harry gasps, eyes wide with what appears to be genuine delight. “Aww
Looouu! That’s wonderful! Listen, no matter where we are in the future,
we have to celebrate the entire holiday and your birthday together, ok?
Promise?”
“Ok, yeah…I promise.” Louis bites his lip as he grins back at Harry.
“Good, and that leads me to my next thing. When it comes to

birthdays we’ll have special traditions—little things we do every single
year for every single birthday. With running inside jokes.”
“Like ice cream and wine floats?” Louis smirks in suggestion.
Harry giggles, nodding his head slowly. “Like ice cream and wine
floats.”
Louis laughs along easily. Is it just him or is this list starting not to
sound like it’s intended for a fictitious person in the distant future?
Because the more Harry tells him, the more Louis can easily see
himself in each one of these things, building a beautiful life with Harry
at his side.
“It’s...dancing in the moonlight.” Harry says next, getting that same

starry-eyed look on his face.
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“Dancing in the moonlight? Like the song?” Louis wonders.
“Exactly like the song.” Harry smiles, turning on his side to face him.
“It’s a good song.” Louis hums.
“It is, I love it.” Harry agrees happily. “Alternatively, we can slow
dance to old vinyl records in the living room, but I think it’d be better
under the moonlight.”
Louis grins, unable to stop himself from imagining being wrapped up

in Harry’s arms, swaying under the moon. “I think you’re probably
right.”
“It’s crossword puzzles in bed on lazy Sunday mornings over coffee

with eggs on toast.” Harry lists next.
“You make a mean eggs on toast.” Louis compliments from

experience.
“Ahh, you think so? Thanks Louis.” Harry beams, entire face breaking
into a smile. “And it’s secret family handshakes with all our kids, that
we would make as ostentatious and ridiculous as possible just to
embarrass them.”
“I’m already embarrassed for them picturing what’d you would come
up with.” Louis shakes his head, rolling his eyes in a fond kind of way.
Harry wiggles his eyebrows mischievously and honestly Louis thinks

he’s already his own version of an embarrassing dad.
“Alright lastly, I want tons of polaroid photo albums filled with

candids of us and our growing family through our time together.”
Harry describes, getting that same starry, tender look in his eye.
“Dozens and dozens of pictures so that when we’re old and grey we
can look back on our time together and relive it all and smile about the
life we built together.”
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“Like a time capsule. A family capsule.”
“Yeah…” Harry smiles softly, sighing a little bit as he lays his head
back. “It’s stupid, I know—”
“No, no it’s not stupid at all.” Louis shakes his head instantly, reaching
to squeeze Harry’s hand. “I like that list.”
“Yeah?” Harry wonders in surprise, only proving how insecure he

really is about it.
“Yeah. It’s…well…it’s hopeful.” Louis encapsulates slowly.
“Exactly.” Harrys nods, humming in agreement as toys with a blade of

grass. “I think so too.”
Louis gazes at Harry for a moment, small smile spreading across his
cheeks as he watches him. He’s beautiful and lovely and so very sweet
and Louis thinks he could lay out here and stare at Harry’s profile for
as long as he lives. “I really hope you have all of those things one day.”
Harry lifts his head, flicking his bright gaze up at Louis as his mouth
upturns into a dimpled grin. Louis can only grin back, feeling
weakened by the intensity of his overwhelming green eyes seeming to
stare right through him. Louis reaches over next to Harry and plucks
a wild daisy from beside him, tucking it into Harry’s curls, right behind
his ear.
They spend the whole day up there in their secret place. Doing
absolutely nothing, but somehow it feels like everything. For a bit,
Harry looks so wonderfully carefree, laughing and joking with Louis.
He’s all windswept curls and cute, bashful giggles, riddled with
dimpled grins and soft smiles; but every so often a darkness overcasts
his features. If he isn’t in conversation with Louis or distracted by
Benedict’s antics, his mind wanders off to a gloomy, dark place. A
place where his sister is gone.
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Louis tries as hard as he can to bring him back, he tries to get him back
to the present. He places more flowers in Harry’s hair or he picks up
one of his novels that he brought up here and he reads it aloud to him,
trying so hard to keep his mood light.
As they lie down in the gentle grass together, Harry rests his head on
Louis’ chest. They lay in comfortable silence, perfectly at ease with
each other as they watch the sun set in the west.
Harry peeks up, resting his chin on Louis’ sternum. He watches him
for a moment as if deliberating what exactly he wants to say. “Thank
you for today, Lou.”
Louis’ hand slides up Harry’s back, tracing light patterns to his spine.
“Yeah, of course, Harry.”
“No, I mean...you don’t get much time off as an intern and the fact
that you were willing to waste it away with me—”
“It wasn’t a waste, Harry.” Louis reaches up to brush a stray hair away
from Harry’s face, running his thumb along the soft skin of his cheek.
“I’m happy to spend time with you.”
Harry smiles before dropping his head back down again, contently
nuzzling against Louis’ chest. “I’m glad I met you.” He whispers softly
after a few quiet moments.
Louis snakes both of his arms around Harry’s frame, holding him close
against his own body. A body that slots so easily with Harry’s. “I’m
glad I met you too, H.”
||☤||
It happens on a Tuesday evening. A Tuesday not unlike any other

Tuesday or even any other day of the week, but on this Tuesday, the
fifth of April, things happen that Louis will not soon forget.
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Louis is just popping by Gemma’s room to record her vitals and check
output levels as instructed by his attending, and he finds Gemma sat
up in her bed, flipping through channels on the TV.
“How are we this evening, love?” Louis asks with a smile as he walks
into the room. “Feeling ok?”
“Oh fantastic!” Gemma nods cheerfully, palm resting on her swollen

belly. “H promised to get me gelato from that gourmet place two
blocks away. And we’re going to watch trashy soaps. So I’m absolutely
winning, obviously.”
“Lucky.” Louis grins, scribbling a few notes down on Gemma’s chart.

“Gelato sounds fucking amazing right now. And brainless TV sounds
equally appealing.”
“Right?” Gemma agrees. “Aren’t I lucky to have such a wonderfully

amazing and attentive little brother?”
Louis’ smile grows uncontrollably and he can feel his cheeks coloring.
“He is quite amazing…”
Gemma pauses for a moment, eyes narrowed as she observes Louis

carefully. She leans closer to him, trying to suppress a grin. “Do you
have a thing for my brother, Lou?”
“What? I mean—um…Why w-would you…we aren’t even…” Louis

stutters, embarrassingly flustered as he drops his pen on accident,
flourishing an even brighter shade of pink.
“You should tell him how you feel.” Gemma encourages knowingly,
wiggling her eyebrows.
Louis crouches down to pick up his pen ungracefully, nearly tripping

over himself in the process. “I’m not…I mean…I erm? Uh…that’s
not—”
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“But tell him while I’m in the room to see it. I wanna see him get as
flustered and red as you are right now. Honestly, sooo much better
than anything on TV.” Gemma smirks, laughing amusedly at Louis’
expense. “God, I’m dying just thinking about it!”
“Gemma!” Louis hisses in embarrassment, cheeks still painfully red.

Yes, he may have swiftly blossoming feelings for Harry, but he doesn’t
exactly know what to do with those yet and he’d rather not be put on
the spot.
“What?” Gemma giggles, reaching out to grab Louis’ arm reassuringly.

“Oh, lighten up Lou, it’s cute! You both are so adorable and bashful
about it. And you’d look so perfect together! Makes my little sick heart
swoon with happiness.”
“Well, I’m glad to have your approval? I guess?”
Gemma meets his eyes seriously, expression soft as she gives his hand
a squeeze. “Of course you have my approval, Louis. You’re an
absolute sweetheart and you’re exactly what my baby brother needs.
Especially now. I’m really happy he has you.” She says genuinely.
“Although, I am a bit tired of hearing about you all the time. I swear
he talks about you nearly every other word.”
“Stop, he does not!” Louis blushes crimson, feeling equivalent to a

young school child talking about their first crush. He is a 26-year-old
man, he’s a fucking doctor for god’s sake. He needs to get his shit
together.
“It’s always ‘Louis said this’ and ‘Louis does that’ and ‘did you know
that—Louis! Louis! Louis!’” Gemma echoes exaggeratedly, offering a
little shrug. “He’s proper gone for you, I’d say.”
“No, he is not.” Louis reddens again, and truthfully he’s lost count of
how many times he’s blushed in the last five minutes. The thought of
Harry talking about him—or also having feelings for him, is having an
overwhelmingly embarrassing effect on Louis’ cheeks.
88
“Is too! And you wanna know what I think?” She sits up a bit and
narrows her eyes at him.
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.” Louis smiles easily.
Gemma nods knowingly. “Right you are. I think that you—”
“Gemma?” Louis’ playful face falls as he observes her abrupt change

in body language curiously.
Her head tilts slightly to the side and her eyes roll back against her head
and suddenly Louis knows what’s about to happen before it even truly
begins. He surges to her and gently tilts her body onto one side, as her
body begins to seize uncontrollably.
“Code Blue!” Louis shouts, trying to keep Gemma’s shaking body on

her side. “Page Dr. Carmichael now!”
Technically, a Code Blue is reserved for patients in cardiac arrest, but

Louis figures he needs all the help he can get right now and seizures
as strong as these usually end up leaving the patient tachycardic or even
pulseless leading to a true Code Blue anyway.
A team of nurses and technicians come roaring into the room, rolling
a crash cart in with them. The charge nurse immediately takes over
holding Gemma’s body steady on her side.
“What do you want to do, Doctor?”
“What?” Louis breathes out heavily, eyes locked with the nurse. Two
seconds ago he was just taking vitals and Gemma was laughing and
joking with him and now her life and her baby are at risk.
“You are running the code, tell us what you want to do.” The nurse
urges, looking to him expectantly.
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“Shit.” Louis’ brain runs wild, he’s never ran a code all by himself, only
with supervision of at least a resident. He is only a few months into his
intern year, he was just a medical student earlier last year for fucks sake.
He is still a complete liability.
But Louis has observed enough times and read enough books and
taken enough tests to know exactly what he needs to do. He just needs
to stop doubting himself, take charge and trust his training. No time
to panic.
i can do this, i can do this.
“Dr. Tomlinson?”
Louis shakes his head, refocusing his attention on the juddering patient
in front of him. “Um ok…do we have an airway?”
“Can’t quite get one in, Doctor.” A female nurse informs, struggling
along with a fellow colleague to get the intubation tube placed. “Her
teeth are gritted.”
“And you’ve paged Carmichael?” Louis stalls again, feeling the fear
rising up inside him. He glances at the doorway, willing his attending
to appear, willing her to storm in and save the day.
“Yes, yes.” A different, male nurses urges. “I paged her several times,
but we can’t wait. We need to do something now.”
Louis takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes for only a second before
reopening them, completely refocused once again.
“Alright, push 2 milligrams of Diazepam.” Louis orders, taking charge

of the situation the best he can.
The nurses follow instructions, injecting the drug through her IV

while continuing to monitor her outputs. “No change.”
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“Push two more.” Louis instructs, anxiety edging his way into his
voice.
“Still no change.” The nurse notes after pushing the drug. “Maxed out
on Diazepam.”
“How long has it been?” Louis looks up frantically.
“Almost 2 minutes, Dr. Tomlinson.”
“Fuck.” Louis curses under his breath, knowing that the baby is most
likely in all kinds of distress, not to mention the constant strain being
placed on Gemma’s brain. “Ok, let’s—”
“V-tach!” One of the nurses yells next, while another immediately

begins to bag Gemma’s face and start chest compressions, defaulting
right into life support.
“Dammit.” Louis curses, looking at the fast paced tachycardic spikes

on the heart monitor. “Charge to 200.”
“Charged.” The nurse promptly hands Louis the paddles.
He hardly takes a breath as he holds the pads to her chest, scared

shitless. “Clear.”
The defibrillator shocks Gemma’s system, Louis removes the paddles

and nurses resume chest compressions. “Still V-tach.” The nurse reads
from the heart rhythm strip. “36 seconds.”
“Ok. Let’s charge to 300 then.” Louis decides quickly.
“Charged.”
“Clear.”
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The shocks wave through Gemma’s chest again and Louis keeps his
eyes glued to the monitor, waiting for the peaks of activity to
normalize.
“45 seconds.” The nurse says, but Louis choses just to wait it out a few
more seconds, sometimes it can take a moment to stabilize. He feels
like he hasn’t taken a breath in years, but he keeps his eyes locked on
the ECG outputs, paddles held midair.
“We have sinus rhythm.” She announces as the monitor begins do

display normal signs of rhythm.
“Oh, thank god.” Louis sags with pure relief, setting the inactive
paddles down. But his relief is instantly cut short as Gemma’s body
once again convulses sporadically.
“No…no… no.” Louis stutters, eyes growing wide with terror. This is
beyond his limited scope of practice; he needs an attending right now.
“W-Where is Dr. Carmichael? Is she—”
“I’ve paged her several times.”
“Page her again! Page anyone!” Louis begs desperately, racking his brain
for something they can do. He shouldn’t be alone in this, he shouldn’t
be making all of these decisions without even the aid of his senior
resident.
“Dr. Tomlinson, it’s still your call.” The nurse informs him dutifully.
“How do you want to proceed?”
Louis doesn’t want to proceed; he wants it all to stop. The pressure is

so heavy, but he can’t just give up. He may be new and he may not
have as much experience, but this is his job. This is his responsibility.
“Ok um…” Louis reframes his focus, zoning in and breathing deeply
to remain calm. “Let’s try pushing 2 Lorazepam.”
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The nurses quickly begin administering the drug just as Dr. Carmichael
comes running into the room. Louis nearly passes out at just the sight
of her, instantly deflating.
“Tomlinson, what happened?” She barks urgently, eyes scrambling to

read the monitor.
“She’s h-having multiple grand mal s-seizures. She’s loaded on

Diazepam. And I j-just pushed 2 milligrams of Lorazepam, but the
seizures persist. The b-baby is possibly—definitely in distress. Her h-
heart—she had sinus V-tach...” Louis explains as calmly and
sufficiently as he can muster, fumbling over his words only slightly.
“But she was stabilized after 45 seconds.”
“Good, good. You did good, Louis.” Dr. Carmichael assures

genuinely, easing his raging fears. “I’ll take it from here.” She turns
back to the nurses, taking command. “Ok go ahead and push two more
Lorazepam.”
Louis backs up and tries to calm his trembling hands and quivering
breath, adrenaline coursing through his veins like a drug. He just ran
his first solo code, on Gemma no less. The stakes were as high as they
could be, but he survived and now Dr. Carmichael is here. Everything
is fine.
everything is fine, everything will be ok
Except Gemma is still shaking violently, seizures skyrocketing out of

control as the spasms continue relentlessly. The only good thing is that
Harry isn’t here to see this. It could have happened when he was in
the room, instead of Louis and that kind of trauma is not something
easily forgotten or pushed aside.
“Her surgery can’t wait any more.” Dr. Carmichael decides after still
no change in Gemma’s condition. “Call the O.R., tell them to prep for
an emergency craniotomy.”
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“Gems, I think that strawberry gela—” Harry cuts himself off
midsentence as he steps into the high energy room, the enclosed tub
of gelato he is holding slips from his grasp at he watches on in stunned
horror. His now empty hand just floats in the air, holding the invisible
shape of the container. He appears frozen in time, unmovable and not
breathing, feet stationed to the ground.
“Oh no…Harry…” Louis mumbles under his breath, wishing he could

rewind time and prevent the look of terror painted over Harry’s
features. Louis scrambles over to him by the door, calling his name
repeatedly.
“Her brain is frying. We need to put her under before we go to the

O.R. or she won’t make it.” Dr. Carmichael continues, reading the
output monitor. “Push 100 of Sux and 20 Etomidate.”
Louis continues to call Harry’s name several times, but it’s like he can’t
hear him, stuck in a trance. Louis knows exactly what it is like to be in
shock, to be so stunned that your body has no choice but to pause, to
momentarily stop existing out of self-preservation.
Slowly the seizures stop and Gemma’s body falls reluctantly still once
more, but the feeling of relief by the medical staff is fleeting as the
machines start to go off again for a different reason.
A nurse reads off the monitor. “Pulse is dropping.”
“She’s in V-fib, she’s going into cardiac arrest. Starting compressions.”
“Harry!” Louis shakes his shoulders and he seems to marginally snap

out of it, tilting his head to meet Louis’ eyes in a daze. “Harry, you
shouldn’t see this.” He pulls Harry’s stunned body out into the hall,
away from all the chaotic mess. Louis forces Harry down into one of
the chairs lining the hallway, kneeling down in front of him.
Harry shakes his head wildly, hands shaking limply at his sides.
“Louis—I…she’s…what is—”
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Louis slides his hands into Harry’s, giving them a comforting squeeze.
“Harry, I need you to stay calm, ok?”
“Pressures coming up slowly.” A voice announces from inside the

room.
“Pupils unresponsive. Breath signs weak.” Another one follows. Louis

recognizes the voice to be Dr. Carmichael’s. “We have to get her to
the O.R. now! Let’s move! Her body can’t take much more of this.”
Harry’s eyes are so impossibly wide and Louis knows he’s terrified so
he keeps talking to him, trying to keep him as calm as possible. “Harry,
breathe, ok? You have to breathe—breathe with me.”
“Tomlinson, let’s go. You’re scrubbing in with me.” Dr. Carmichael

informs as she comes rushing out of the room, pushing Gemma’s
gurney rapidly down the hallway.
Although Louis registered her words somewhere in his clouded brain,

he makes no effort to move his body, still holding Harry’s hands
tightly. He can hardly focus his attention anywhere that isn’t Harry.
“Page Johnson to meet us in surgery.” Dr. Carmichael orders towards

the nurses’ station as she hurriedly strides along with the bed down the
hall. “We need her to monitor the fetal heartbeat. The baby is most
likely in distress.”
Everyone is moving in a flurry all around him and Louis feels as

though he can only watch it happen. He can feel Harry shaking next
to him, he can feel the tremor of his hands intertwined with his own.
“Tomlinson!” Dr. Carmichael shouts urgently from the edge of the

hall, snapping Louis out of it.
“I’ll come out to give you an update, I promise.” Louis squeezes

Harry’s fingers one more time before letting them go. He stands to his
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feet and slowly begins backpedaling towards the O.R. “As soon as we
know anything. I promise.”
Harry nods blankly, but his hands are still shaking uncontrollably as he
watches Louis with wide terrified eyes. Louis doesn’t want to leave him
like this, alone and scared, but he has no choice. It’s his job. And he’s
impossibly grateful to the nurse who comes up to Harry and wraps her
arms around him. “I’ll walk with you to the waiting area and stay with
you awhile.”
||☤||
“Dr. Tomlinson, you did very well today.” Dr. Carmichael

compliments as they stand in the prepped O.R., surgery underway.
“You did exactly what I would do. You assessed the situation and
thought fast enough on your feet. Not many interns can do that this
early on.”
“Thank you, Dr. Carmichael.” Louis nods slowly. He can’t see her face
fully behind her surgical mask, but Louis can tell she’s smiling at him,
proud of her quickly learning student.
“Would you like to dissect the skull flap?” She asks, making room for
him at her side, along the operating table.
“I—yes. Yes, of course.” Louis stutters, caught of guard. Getting to

do anything besides retract and operate the suction as an intern is rare
and he’ll take any opportunities he can to learn and be better.
The surgery seems to go smoothly for the first hour. Dr. Carmichael
quickly gains control over the situation, remedying the damaged tissue
and stabilizing Gemma’s overstimulated nervous system. Everything
is good, everything is fine. Until suddenly…it isn’t.
“She’s hemorrhaging.” Dr. Carmichael assesses over the now blaring

machines ringing out alarms all around the sterile room. Her hands
work wildly, attempting to save her patient’s life. “Push Mannitol.”
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“Check her eyes.” Dr. Carmichael directs her next order towards
Louis.
Louis immediately rounds the operating table, manually opening

Gemma’s eyes and flashing a light over them several times. “Pupils
blown and non-responsive.”
Dr. Carmichael’s face says it all, even behind her surgical mask, but she
continues working diligently. “Let’s hang more units of blood.”
The surgical team follow her orders as Louis watches Gemma’s

outputs on the screen. It’s not getting any better, nothing is changing
and Louis knows this can’t be good, but everything is already being
done. He chances a look at the fetal monitor next and it’s not much
better, the screen displaying persistent late decels, indicating the baby
is in dangerous amounts of distress.
“The baby isn’t getting enough oxygen.” Dr. Johnson announces next.
“Dr. Carmichael, I’m sorry, I’ve waited as long as possible, but I have
to deliver this baby.”
Dr. Carmichael stays silent for a moment, fingers still working as her
mind whirls and processes, before she stops and nods slowly. “Ok, go
ahead and proceed with the delivery plan.”
Wasting no time at all, Dr. Johnson and her team begin an emergency
cesarean section, cutting into Gemma’s swollen belly to rescue the
premature baby. Louis doesn’t assist, standing a bit off to the side, out
of the way, to observe.
“Can the baby survive?” Louis wonders, knowing that Gemma was
not fully to term, only barely touching the 29th week of gestation, still
critically undeveloped. “This young? I mean—”
“Yes, the chance of survival is manageable at this stage, and right now
it’s the baby’s only chance.”
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“But why isn’t the baby crying?” Louis worries, watching on as the
extremely small newborn remains unsettlingly quiet.
“Baby is cyanotic.” Dr. Johnson announces, indicating that the infant’s

airways must be compromised. She carries the slightly blue-hued
newborn girl to a predestinated area of the O.R. to work on saving her
life. Louis watches on from a distance as tiny tubes and ventilation
apparatuses are strapped to the tiny infant. At such a young age, to be
born prematurely and already need so much assistance just to live, tugs
strongly at Louis’ heart.
“Ok, the baby is out, let’s see what we can do.” Dr. Carmichael
instructs, jumping back in to work on Gemma again. “How many units
has she had?”
“Seven, Doctor.” The scrub nurse answers. “Pressure’s still dropping.”
“Hang another unit. And let’s push more Mannitol.” Dr. Carmichael
orders, moving fast. “Her heart is working too hard, I’m afraid she
might—”
“V-fib!” The scrub nurse informs as the heart monitors goes off,
confirming everyone’s worst fears. “Starting compressions.”
Everything from there happens so fast. The team goes through the
measures of providing tireless life support. Going through several
rounds of attempting to restart Gemma’s heart, applying charge after
high voltage charge, followed by ceaseless compressions and assistance
of drugs, but to no avail.
“She’s lost too much blood…she’s…” Dr. Carmichael shakes her head
in discouragement, lifting her hands from Gemma’s stationary body
and stopping compressions. The machines whirl and beep all around
them, alerts going off. “She’s gone…”
Louis stands there utterly shocked, held captive by the events

happening around him. He knew the risk was high, extremely high. He
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knew that, he did. But then seeing it happen, watching her flat line,
watching the last traces of life drift away. Powerless to do a single thing
about it.
“Time of death: 21:39.”
It all happened so fast, the surgery not even lasting long enough for
him to have the opportunity to give Harry an update. It seems like just
minutes ago he was laughing and joking with Gemma about his
potential feelings for her brother. And now, Louis stands there, eyes
still locked on the monitor, watching the medical technicians begin to
disconnect the machinery, watching the anesthesiologist suppress the
sedatives, watching as the two attending surgeons in the room begin
to close up her body stitch by stitch, making it presentable. Presentable
so that her incisions and open cavity don’t completely terrify the
awaiting family.
Terrify Harry.
“Tomlinson.” Louis feels the heavy hand of his attending on his

shoulder, startling him from his unblinking stares. “Hey, we need to
inform the family. Get scrubbed out and meet me at the nurses’
station.”
“Right, yes—ok.” Louis tries to shake himself out, tries to appear as if

he is fine, but his mind keeps wandering, keeps thinking about Harry.
Unknowing, still hopeful Harry.
His world is about to shatter completely and he doesn’t even know.

Nothing will ever feel the same again. He will always remember this
moment. For the rest of his life, he will envision this fragment in time,
relive its haunting memory.
Louis remembers being on the other end, being the family member in
the waiting room, alone, scared, just waiting for answers. Waiting for
some form of relief. Only to see a cluster of somber white coats
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shaking their heads. Apologizing. Voices sounding like static and white
noise as the realization ate him alive. Giving him the answers he was
just begging for, but now wished he didn’t know.
Now Louis is the white coat, he is the bearer of bad news and
unwanted answers. Louis can’t offer Harry the relief he wants, only the
reality he is dreading.
Louis silently prays to every deity that Dr. Carmichael won’t use this
as a teaching experience, asking Louis to do most of the talking. Since
he started as an intern, The Four L’s have been drilled time and time
again into his head, constantly put into practice. The golden rules of
how to properly and efficiently break bad news to a loved one. Being
on the other side, Louis knows it’s not that simple, it’s just not. There
is no magic golden theory to break someone’s heart, to shatter their
world. You can’t just run down a series of steps on a list, checking off
each phase robotically and that be it.
location. language. body language. leave.
The Four L’s, rinse, repeat, reuse. That’s what he’s been taught, that is
protocol. And, of course, Louis understands that as an intern, giving
the family bad news is something he must learn to do in an efficient
manner, but he can’t. Not this time. He can’t look Harry, his Harry, in
the face and tell him that Gemma is dead. He can’t.
location
The waiting area is buzzing with various families and loved ones, all
waiting for those confirming answers. The air is thick with anxious
energy, worried and terrified vibes practically painting the walls. It’s no
place to receive negative news, it’s no place to receive any kind of news
really. And it is for that reason that a doctor’s first step is to remove
the loved one from the stressful area, to a more isolated and controlled
space to deliver the news.
“Harry,” Dr. Carmichael calls gently in the waiting area, striding over
to the cluster of chairs he is sitting at. His body is hunched over
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himself, head hanging in his hands as he sits completely still. “Could
you follow us over here a moment, we need to talk.”
Harry’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, but his face only
portrays a small fraction of hope, like he knows, like he is trying to steel
himself up for the blow. Like he has been trying since the second he
sat down, to prepare himself for what may come.
Without a word Harry stands to his feet and silently follows behind
Dr. Carmichael and Louis to a nearby vacant conference room.
Dr. Carmichael holds the door open for them, directing them inside
to the awaiting table and chairs. “Would you like to have a seat,
Harry?”
Harry shakes his head, obviously too on edge to sit any longer. Anxiety
radiates off his body stronger than the heat from an open flame as he
stands only a few paces into the room.
Dr. Carmichael nods in silent understanding as she closes the door for
privacy. She then turns to subtly gesture to Louis, eyeing him closely.
And in that moment his worst fears are actualized.
body language
Louis takes a deep breath, desperately trying to clear his head and
remember what it felt like to be in Harry’s position. To be on the other
side. He doesn’t have to think very hard, he remembers being there
like it was yesterday. He approaches Harry slowly, placing a warm and
comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, meeting his eyes gently with all
the compassion and empathy he can possibly convey.
“Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice
level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way
Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage
way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s so hard, nearly impossible.
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That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement
that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving
a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without
feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.
But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase,
he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the
cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly
empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t
at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it.
“We did absolutely e-everything we could.” Louis continues, voice still

faltering every so often as he talks. “Gemma suffered a cerebral
hemorrhage causing her to stroke out on the table. The seizures caused
by her tumor taxed her body greatly, to unrepairable levels. Dr.
Carmichael did everything she could to remedy the bleed…but she was
losing too much blood and her heart was working overtime. Dr.
Johnson had no choice but to deliver the baby prematurely via C-
section…but Gemma—um the strain on her vital organs was far too
extensive.”
Harry stays utterly quiet for a while, looking down at his feet,
processing, visualizing all Louis has just laid out before him. His
breaths are heavy but altogether even, as though he is concentrating
on it, almost trying to distract his mind to avoid breaking. Harry lifts
his head back up, flickers of uncertainty and farfetched hope twinkling
among the gold flecks in his green eyes. “I need you to say it.”
language
Dr. Carmichael looks to Louis expectantly, but Louis is utterly frozen,

mouth hanging open at a loss. He knows what Harry is asking. It’s
what everyone asks, what everyone needs. That final confirmation of
death. That much needed closure, so there is no room for question,
no room for error, no room for blind hope or optimistic desperation.
Language is everything and it must be used in finality.
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But Louis can’t get his dry tongue to form the words, can’t bare to
utter them in the private space, into reality. Not with Harry burning
holes into his flesh, not with all the weight this one sentence bears,
once it’s out there, it can’t be taken back.
Sensing Louis’ hesitation and unease, Dr. Carmichael steps in as a

seasoned attending and teacher. Louis moves out of the way as she
steps in his place, resting her own comforting hand on Harry’s
shoulder. “Despite our very best efforts, we could not save your sister.
Gemma is dead, Harry. I am so very sorry for your loss.”
Harry sucks in a sharp breath, eyes falling closed weakly for a moment.
He’s going to that place; a place Louis knows all too well. A place
where he no longer hears what is going on around him, no longer sees,
no longer perceives, for it no longer matters. It’s a place deep within
the recess of his own head where the words Gemma is dead are replaying
over and over and over in his mind. The body trying to cope, the mind
trying to understand, to make sense of the unimaginable, of the
impossible.
“If there is anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Dr.
Carmichael continues gently, giving his shoulder a soothing squeeze.
“I know it may be too much to deal with right now, but Dr. Johnson
delivered a beautiful baby girl. She’s very small, at 3lbs and 10 ounces,
but she is also very strong. A fighter, that one.”
Harry just gazes at her blankly, completely unresponsive as Dr.

Carmichael talks.
“Due to her premature birth, she will need to be kept in the NICU for
several weeks for observation and monitored fetal development. But
once she is stable, you are welcome to visit her there. I understand that
Gemma has entrusted the care of her daughter under your
guardianship. Social Services has already begun to approve the custody
documents.”
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Still no tangible response from Harry, and Louis is certain that he is
not listening to her in the slightest. His ears are still ringing and
screaming the same condemning three words.
gemma is dead.
“There are still some things that need to be signed and officiated on
your end, legal certificates and such. But we can handle that at another
time with Social Services.” Dr. Carmichael continues. “I know how
hard this must be on you, but you can see the baby soon.”
“I’m sorry…what…” Harry snaps out of it, blinking in an absolute

daze, cognizance not completely there, still trapped somewhere far, far
away.
“You can see the baby soon.” Dr. Carmichael repeats gently. “I think
seeing her may help you. There is something magical about babies in
that sense.”
“Oh…” Harry mumbles in an unfocused haze, seeming uninterested

and distant. “Can I...can I see her? …Gemma, I mean? I didn’t…I
didn’t get to say g-goodbye to her…”
leave
Another step Louis has a problem with, how can he be expected to
just leave a grieving person there after delivering the worst news of
their life? Yes, he has work to do, yes he has other matters to attend
to but…how does he just up and go? Turn his back on someone’s
actualized hell and keep going about his day. How?
“Yes.” Dr. Carmichael nods, turning to look in Louis’ direction. “Dr.

Tomlinson can take you back there if you’d like.”
Well, apparently Louis won’t have to leave so soon this time. Which is
a blessing because all he wants to do is be there for Harry. There’s no
way he could function on another task right now, knowing that Harry
is somewhere in the hospital trying to come to grips with all this.
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“Yes, of course. I’ll take you.”
||✚||
“Um…I can wait outside if you want?” Louis bites on his lower lip as
they stand just inside the entrance of the still, sterile room. “Give you
some privacy...”
“No, please stay.” Harry jumps instantly, eyes pleading as he grabs

hold of Louis’ free hand. He doesn’t want to be alone. It’s hard to
know what he wants exactly, he feels numb and disoriented, but he
knows he doesn’t want to be alone. And Louis is his only constant
now. “Don’t leave me.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll stay.” Louis answers instantly, giving Harry’s

palm a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be right here. Whatever you need. I’m
here.”
Harry forces himself to breathe as he nods his head, closing his eyes.
He relies on Louis’ hand clutched to his own, finding comfort in the
consistency of his steady pulse. Louis uses his free hand to open the
door, leading Harry inside the room. The space feels cold, not just in
the notably lower temperature, but in the bareness of the stripped
down hospital room.
Louis gives Harry’s hand another meaningful squeeze before letting

him go. He stands off by the door giving Harry space, but not leaving
just as he promised.
Slowly Harry shuffles over to the hospital bed, settling down in the
chair near the edge. He stares at her for awhile unblinking, and
shocked. Taking in her unnaturally pale skin, the lack of a rising chest.
It’s all so wrong. Gemma was always such a lively person, bright and
charismatic and now her light has been diminished suddenly. Her light
was what Harry relied on for his own source of guidance. Now his life
is only shrouded in darkness, without a beacon, without a guide.
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Harry stares and stares until he can no longer hold back, his face
breaking, splitting in two, as the tears spill over. He drops his heavy
head down at her side. “Gems…”
He reaches for her limp hand, startled by the uncommon frigidity of

her palms. Harry places Gemma’s cold hand between his two warm
ones, somehow hoping by some chance, the warmth at his fingertips
will radiate back to her.
With tears raging down his cheeks, Harry braves a look up to gaze at
Gemma’s motionless face. “How am I s-supposed to go on without y-
you? It was always me and you…just me a-and you and n-now—
now....”
The words get lost somewhere between his mind and mouth and
Harry shakes his head as the sobs overtake him again. He buries his
head along the side of the clean bed, hands still laced with his sister’s.
It’s more than just the loss of his sister, it’s the loss of his only family,
his only source of ground. The only person he had left on the
earth. They weren’t twins, separated by a few years difference, but it
feels like someone severed part of him off, amputated a vital piece of
his body. Gemma always said Harry was so much a part of her, it was
like they shared a brain sometimes. So in sync with each other, so
connected. Losing Gemma is like losing himself. He hardly knows who
he is without her at his side.
“You promised we would always have each other, that nothing would
ever break us apart…” Harry whispers, swiping at his blurry eyes. “I’ve
needed y-you my whole life and I—I know you’ve been trying to
prepare me for this but…I’m not ready. I’m still not ready…”
He knew it was going to happen eventually, he knew Gemma didn’t

have much time left. The signs were written all over the wall, she was
only getting worse, Harry knew that. He knew. But knowing doesn’t
make it hurt any less.
106
Harry looks down at the cold, lifeless hand in his. A hand that has
comforted him, hugged him, held him though the worst of times. A
hand that basically raised him. A hand that represents his whole world.
A hand he has to somehow learn to let go of.
“Goodbye Gems.” Harry whispers sorrowfully, pressing a tearfully

gentle kiss to her forehead as he forces the unfamiliar words out. How
do you say goodbye to someone for the last time? How do you let go?
“I love you…I’ll…never stop loving you.”
Eyes fallen closed, Harry tries to imagine the sound of her voice, he
tries so hard to hold onto that treasured laugh. And realization dawns
on him that he will never hear her voice again, that comforting sound
is vanquished from his reality.
How can she just be gone? If nothing else, they always had each other.
Nothing was a constant, the world around them shifted so many times
nothing was recognizable, but they learnt to rely on each other, trust
only each other. But who is Harry going to look to now? Who is going
to keep him going? This is the hardest time of his life and he wants to
rely on his best friend to get him through it, he wants to turn to his
sister for comfort but she’s gone.
Gemma was the strong one, she was the one who would know how to
deal with this. How is he supposed to handle this without her? Without
her shoulder to lean on, to rely on, to cry on.
Harry tries so hard to keep it together, to let his last parting words of
farewell stand. He tries to force himself to make peace with this, to
accept the impossible as Gemma would have wanted him to. But he
can’t. Harry can’t do it. He can’t accept it. He collapses back in the
chair weakly as his whole body starts to break down even more,
crumbling in on himself.
“She can’t be gone…” Harry mutters to himself as his tears flow freely,
body shaking against his own will. He gasps again as the horrifying
realty hits him once more, the disbelieving panic setting into his
107
system, suffocating his sanity. “S-She can’t…she—she c-can’t just
leave…she…she…”
“Harry…let me take you home, ok?” Louis murmurs softly. Harry

didn’t even realize when Louis appeared at his side, but he is wrapping
his arms around Harry’s body and pulling him up against him. Harry
buries his head against Louis’ neck, shielding himself from the bitter
ugliness of the truth.
Louis just holds him for a moment, fingers trailing in his hair as he
whispers. “Let’s go home.”
||☤||
The funeral comes and goes. It was a small service, nothing grand or
fancy, just the kind of thing Gemma would have appreciated. As they
had no other family, the attendance was made up of Gemma’s closest
friends. Even a few hospital staff and doctors privileged enough to
really get to know Gemma, came to show their support including Dr.
Carmichael and Dr. Johnson. The service was full of warm stories,
treasured memories, and love. She was loved and she will be missed
by everyone who knew her.
After the service Louis drove Harry back to his home, which might as
well be Harry’s too, since Louis knows he has nowhere else to go. And
Louis is happy to offer his home, feeling useless otherwise.
Although Louis is no stranger to loss, it’s strange that Gemma is gone,

uncomfortable and unnatural. Louis doesn’t know what to do with
himself at work, she’s been a vital piece of his day since he started at
SSMC and without her he can’t help but feel a bit lost and off balance.
He can only imagine how Harry feels.
Harry has been locked in his room for the past two days straight and
Louis has tried to give him space, but he is rightfully worried about
him, constantly hovering around the closed door, listening in for any
signs of life.
108
He knows Harry isn’t particularly interested in eating right now, but
Louis also knows he needs to eat, or at least try to eat. Tentatively,
Louis knocks on the wood door of Harry’s bedroom. “Harry?”
The room remains soundless, not a crack or a peep.
He doesn’t want to ask the obvious question, ‘are you ok?’, because
Louis knows Harry isn’t ok. He knows Harry is drowning within
himself and no one can save him from it.
“Harry…um…I brought you something to eat...” Louis tries again,

looking down at the to-go bag of food in his hands. “It’s not—I
mean…I didn’t cook it because well, I don't cook. Obviously. But it’s
from that Thai place? The one we went to a few times with the really
good eggrolls?”
No answer.
“Anyway…um…I’m just gonna leave it outside the door, ok?” Louis

stoops down and places the bag neatly against the door jam.
Louis stands to his feet and is just about to walk away, but suddenly
can’t get his feet to move. He presses his palm gently against the wood
of the door, leaning in until he feels the cool grains against his cheek
as well.
“I know what it’s like...losing someone...” Louis starts slowly, not sure
of how much he can even say. “Someone you love...”
Louis sucks in a heavy breath, closing his eyes for a moment as the
familiar feeling he’s been actively avoiding washes over him like a
flood. “I know that feeling...that empty, constricting pain that feels like
it’s eating a hole right through your heart. That feeling of being
stuck…like existing in slow motion…feeling time pass around you.
But not being able to do anything about it...just being…stuck…”
109
“I know...I get it…” Louis sighs sadly, palm still leaned against the
door as he talks. “I don’t talk about it—I can’t…I…”
Louis gets stopped up on his words, skirting around it. It’s been years
but, the scars cut just as deep. So deep that Louis hasn’t shed a single
tear in nearly ten years, he can’t bring himself to cry—won’t allow
himself to cry, deathly afraid that he’ll never be able to stop.
No one ever tells you how much it’ll hurt, no one can ever relay into
words what it feels like to know you’ll never see someone’s face again,
or hear their voice or feel their longed touch. It hurts, it burns, and the
sting of it all doesn’t wane, it doesn’t fade. The only thing that really
changes is how you begin to deal with it, you become better at coping,
you learn to function, but you never forget and the ache never numbs.
Instead it lingers and lurks, always looming in the shadows of your
mind, unescapable grief, unavoidable sorrow.
Louis takes a deep breath, pressing his lips together tightly. “It’s the
reason I’m here really—a doctor, I mean. To help others not have to
go through that, to save people from experiencing that…feeling.”
“I just um…I want you to know that I’m here for you.” Louis
whispers, staring at the grains of the door. “Whatever you need, H.
I’m here. I’m right here.”
There is still no answer from behind the door, but Louis knows Harry
heard him, he knows that he was listening. And that will just have to
be enough for now.
“Please eat, ok?” Louis mutters gently, praying his words somehow get
through.
And maybe his words met Harry somewhere in between, because the
next time Louis checks a few hours later, the bag of takeout is gone.
Louis can only sigh with relief knowing that Harry is at the very least
thinking about eating. He may not actually eat any of the food, but it
is progress and any progress is good.
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Soon Louis finds that Harry has moved from isolation in his room to
sitting on the living room couch. He’s asleep most of the time and he
hardly ever says anything, but at least Louis can see him. He can see
that he is still breathing and trying to make it the only way he can.
Louis still brings him food when he gets home from work and he still
talks to him like they used to talk all the time on this very couch. How
they used to laugh and joke about absolutely nothing. And now even
though Harry is hurting too much for that, Louis still wants him to
know that he’s here.
“Good morning, Harry.” Louis whispers before he leaves for work,

despite the fact that Harry is asleep, body curled up on the couch. His
hair is sticking out in all kinds of directions, but his frame twitches and
quivers slightly.
Louis gently drapes a blanket over Harry, making sure to cover his
entire body. Just as he finishes, Benedict hops up on the couch and
curls up next to Harry.
Louis smiles, running his fingers through the dog’s soft fur. “Look
after him for me, ok Benny?”
Benny nuzzles closer to Harry’s sleeping body, a protective paw resting

on one of his legs.
“Good boy.”
||✚||
Harry has been sat in the same unmoving position for the past four
hours, watching the old grandfather clock in the corner tick and tock
and push time along endlessly. The only reason he is awake right now
is because he had to pee. And once he did that, he ran out of things to
do, ran out of reasons to do much of anything.
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Besides sit. In this very spot. Entranced by the tick tock, tick tock, tick
tock of time. Has it been seconds, has it been years? Minutes or
months? Who knows why the clock turns? Who knows the purpose?
How relative this moment is to the next, what holds him captive to
this spot…
Time doesn’t feel real, nothing feels real. The only thing Harry knows
is real is the constant numbing ache he feels pitted deep and dark in
his chest, pulsing on its own, feeding off every will he has left inside.
Harry vaguely registers the front door creak open, sensing the familiar
scurry of excited paws clicking against the wood floors to the doorway.
“Hi Benny Boy!” Louis greets warmly, dropping to his knees to fully
embrace the oversized puppy. “Yeah, I missed you too, buddy.”
As soon as Harry hears the soft rasp of Louis’ voice echoing through
the halls, he feels as though he can breathe just that much easier.
Something about knowing he isn’t alone in this house calms him in
such understated ways. Harry feels darkest when he’s alone, but there’s
a strong light in Louis specifically that calls to him, reminding Harry
that one day maybe it might be ok after all.
“How is he today?” Louis asks Benedict, a worried tone falling over

his voice. And soon he is walking into the living room, already
anticipating Harry’s despondent state of being. “Oh, you’re awake?”
Harry doesn’t move his body, but his eyes meet Louis’ in silence.
Honest to god, Harry is eternally grateful for Louis. And he wishes
with everything left in him that he could somehow communicate that
to him. But everything is so hard. Harry feels trapped within his own
body, fighting against his own body, watching the days go by
mercilessly wishing it all would stop. But it doesn’t stop, it never stops.
Harry is just thankful that Louis never stops either. He never stops
trying to get through to Harry or be there for him, but all the while, he
never pushes. He never oversteps and Harry loves him for it, truly he
does. Louis somehow makes Harry feel slightly in touch with himself
again, even if for only short, fleeting moments. It’s something. And
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Harry may not be able to physically actualize his feelings, but he is so
eternally thankful that Louis doesn’t stop.
“Are you hungry?” Louis wonders, sitting down next to Harry on the
couch. “I could go out and pick something up?”
Food isn’t something that appeals to Harry much these days. He’ll eat
when he absolutely has to and mostly only due to Louis’ insistence.
Harry would have easily let himself starve to death and not think a
thing of it. He hardly feels hunger, it seems like a vague secondary
ailment to the heavy weight incessantly pulling at his heart.
“I’m feeling kinda like…Mexican food? I’ve been thinking about tacos
all damn day. One of my patients today—in the ER—he owns a food
truck with, like, different kinds of tacos and shit. And oh my god, it
sounded so fucking good, yeah.” Louis ponders out loud, smiling to
himself. “I mean…the man literally smelled like tacos! I practically
wanted to eat him—eh, that sounds a bit weird. Ok…it’s just—if you
smelled him, you’d know what I mean.” Louis laughs a bit to himself,
eyes crinkling faintly at the sides.
And god, Harry loves that laugh, loves how light and genuine it sounds
falling from Louis’ lips, loves how Louis seems to laugh with his whole
face, expressive features morphing around the tinkling, joyous sound.
Ordinarily Harry would laugh right along with Louis at that, nearly fall
over with a fit of giggles. And he wants to, god, he wants to. But
somehow he can’t. He just can’t and everything feels wrong and
purposeless. Commanding his body to do anything is nearly
impossible, but Louis continues on regardless.
“Or maybe pizza? I could always go for pizza, you know? What do you
think, pizza sound good to you?” Louis inquires, glancing curiously at
Harry as though he’s been active in the conversation the whole time.
“Nah, you’re more of a taco kind of guy if it really came down to it.”
He’s not wrong, Harry did love a good taco once. And if food was an
appetizing thing for him, he would definitely go with tacos for dinner.
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“Mmm, I thought so. Alright, tacos it is. I wonder if I can get a
discount at the taco truck if I say I saved the owner’s life? Well
ok...that’s an exaggeration—I just treated his burns from some spilled
frying oil, but still…a discount would be nice. I’m very poor after all.”
Harry lips quirk ever so slightly, not even noticeably, but somehow
Louis notices nonetheless.
“Was that…a ghost of a…smile? Did you just smile at the fact that I’m
a poor doctor, H?” Louis beams animatedly, nudging Harry’s shoulder
lightly with his own. “I don’t know why that’s always funny to you, but
I’ll take it.”
Harry drops his head to rest on Louis’ shoulder nuzzling against him.
Louis’ smell, just like his voice, is always an instant source of comfort,
clean and a bit spicy from cologne. They sit in silence for a little while,
curled up on the couch. Louis wraps his arm around Harry easily,
hugging him closer.
Louis pulls Harry out of himself somehow, just by being himself. He

doesn’t have to try to get through to Harry, he doesn’t have to put on
airs or walk on eggshells. He treats Harry exactly as he always has, even
though Harry can’t reciprocate. His spirit is wonderfully unique and
kind, compassionate in his actions and always so very caring and Harry
thinks that must be the most beautiful thing about him really.
“Hey…um…did you want to maybe…see Avery tomorrow?” Louis

asks slowly with caution, after a few minutes of silence between them.
Harry doesn’t answer that either, not because he doesn’t know the
answer. He knows that he doesn’t want to see her. He can’t. Every day
Louis asks him if he wants to see Gemma’s daughter and every day
Harry doesn’t answer. But nonetheless, Louis offers little facts about
her, little developmental milestones she is making at the NICU. Louis
visits her every single day on Harry’s behalf, making sure she’s not
alone in the cruel world she was born into. He tries so hard to keep
Harry up to date, to help him find some kind of connection with her.
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But despite all Louis’ efforts, Harry always zones out, numbing himself
against a reality he still is not equipped to face.
“She might make you feel better—maybe…I don’t know…” Louis

shrugs a little, running his palm up and down the length of Harry’s
shoulder comfortingly. “I um…I was a bit lost at first without…” He
pauses, chewing over his words. “…without Gemma around, but
visiting Avery…it just…I dunno, it helps—she helps. I know that
nothing can ever replace your sister and I know you’re still grieving the
loss of her but…” Louis turns his head to look at Harry, and his voice
is warm and soft as his lips upturn into a smile. “Oh, she’s so beautiful,
Harry. I go in and talk to her and she’s started to recognize my voice,
which is so amazing—I’m just in awe of her. And she can finally open
her eyes now, she’s getting stronger every day and she’s gotten so
big—almost 7 lbs. She’s incredible.”
Once again Harry offers no answer on the matter, feeling as though

he is simply watching his life go by while lying trapped within.
“Ok, well there’s no pressure to go in, she’s almost clear to come home
anyway.” Louis tells him. “She’s going to be officially discharged in a
few days and then you can finally meet her. I think you’ll love her. And
I know she’s going to love you.”
||☤||
Louis walks into the NICU, as he has many times over the past few
weeks, but this time isn’t like all the other times. This time Louis won’t
leave empty handed, instead he will be carrying home a finally healthy
baby girl.
“Hello, Dr. Tomlinson—oh, Mr. Styles isn’t with you?” One of the
neonatal nurse asks.
“Erm no, he couldn't make it. He’s feeling...a bit um…ill.” Louis
claims slowly, stuffing his hands down in his lab coat pockets. “So I
told him I’d take care of everything in his place.”
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Louis tried absolutely everything to get Harry to come in with him
today, but he repeatedly gave every single excuse in the book. And
Louis knows how scary this is, he understands the level of uncertainty
Harry’s life has become accustomed to, so Louis didn’t push. Instead
he took care of all the paperwork, filling out all the legal forms, only
bothering Harry for his signature when necessary.
But this feels different. This feels like a moment Harry should have
been apart of. It’s a big deal when a premature infant is able to breathe
on their own, fight on their own, live on their own. Harry has already
missed so many milestones in Avery’s survival story and this is a
tremendous moment of victory. She finally gets to go home and start
out her beautiful life.
As Louis looks down at her, freed from all the tubings and wirings that
he’s become accustom to seeing her hooked up to, he can’t stop his
heart from swelling with pride. For such a tiny thing, Avery has come
so far already and she is without a doubt the most pure, beautiful thing
he has ever laid eyes on. Gently Louis picks up her tiny body, cradling
her fragile head. Her wide, alert eyes peer back up at him in fascination,
recognizing him from all the times he’s come to visit her.
“Hello Avery, hi love.” Louis coos, holding her close to his chest. She’s
spent so much time in an incubated case as her systems were given
proper time to develop and it’s so good to see her finally thriving on
her body’s own volition. “Such a small little thing you are.”
Louis has always had a special love for babies, finding that new baby
smell oh so welcoming. He grew up caring for little babies, changing
diapers and fixing bottles, such is the life of an older brother. Was.
Such was the life.
He quickly clears his mind of his unwelcome thoughts and focuses his
attention back on Avery in his arms. She’s such a happy baby, so full
of life and joy like a little ball of sunshine.
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“You really are quite cute, you know? You’re a little heartbreaker with
a smile like that.” Louis bops her little button nose. “Those dimples
must be a family trait, it's how all you Styles' steal hearts.”
Avery beams, the tiniest of tiny little dimples peeking out of her
smooth cheeks. She reaches up her small fingers towards him and
Louis feels completely enchanted by her. He could call her beautiful
again and again and it wouldn’t be nearly enough. Everything about
her is delicate and fragile, soft and lovely. Faint freckles pepper her
perfectly smooth cheeks, a small birthmark lies just to the left of her
gentle hazel eyes, warm like honey.
Looking down at this small life in his arms, innocent and pure but
already so strong and brave, untainted by reality, he wants everything
for her. Every single good thing this world has to offer, Louis wants it
all for Avery. For her to have the best life she possibly can, despite
how it may have started out for her. Louis feels overwhelmed by the
overpowering determination inside of him to always keep her safe and
loved. To protect her and take care of her and ensure that no matter
what happens she always knows how important she is.
“But you probably already know just how cute you are, don’t you, baby
Aves?” Louis ponders and the new abbreviation of her name. “Aves. I
like it. Can I call you Aves? Would that be alright?”
Avery smiles happily again, all gums and giggles. And it’s almost
ridiculous how adorable she is.
“Alright then Aves, it’s settled.” Louis grins, rocking her back and
forth in his arms. “You get to come home today, you know? Yep, no
more hospitals and strange people poking at you anymore. Well
hmm…I take that back. Your uncle or erm…your father now I
suppose, yeah—well he’s quite strange. Not the bad kind, the goofy
kind, yeah? He’s just a bit weird, but it’s endearing, you know? I like
him and I think you’ll like him too, he’s a sweetheart.”
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Avery stares intently at Louis’ face, seeming captivated by his voice.
She always falls still whenever he starts to speak, content only to watch
him.
“Maybe you can help him, yeah? He’s going through a lot and
he…well, he needs love. And you’re practically bursting with it. Aren’t
you, Aves?” Louis coos, rubbing her tummy gently. “I wish you’d
gotten a chance to meet your mum. She would have adored you—she
adored you without even properly meeting you. All she did was gush
about you…I miss her terribly.” Louis admits sadly, bowing his head.
Gemma was such a dear friend to him. She was a wonderful person
and although he feels honored to have known her, he can’t stop
wishing that she had more time.
Louis also wishes, even more so now, that Harry came with him to
come pick Avery up, so he could have this time with her. He is sure
that Avery will help brighten his mood and lift his spirits, how could
she not? She’s absolutely delightful, it’s infectious.
And Louis knows just how much Harry loves babies and kids, they’ve
talked about it countless times. He always wanted a big family, he
dreams of being an active father and giving his kids the experiences he
never got to have with his own father. This isn’t how he envisioned
becoming a new parent, how could it be? But this little baby girl in
Louis’ arms could very well be the start of the beautiful family Harry
always dreamed of.
Louis carefully sets about buckling Avery into a brand new baby
carrier. Although a sad concept, the NICU is littered with never-been-
used, abandoned baby necessities. Carriers, strollers, diaper bags,
clothes, blankets, anything a new parent could possibly need, all left
behind by once hopeful new parents. Parents that were eager to take
their brand new baby home. A baby that, in the long fight to survive,
would never see the world outside these hospital walls.
The hospital stores all of these forgotten supplies for future parents in
need, often donating them to single parents and families who have
fallen on hard times. Louis can think of no better recipient than Harry.
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Having all the essentials to care for Avery is just one less thing for
Harry to worry about and Louis hopes with all his heart that maybe
today will be the day Harry finally starts to smile again.
||✚||
“We’re home!” Louis announces in an animated voice, cradling baby

Avery to his chest as he walks into the house. Harry hears him settle
in to the house, setting a few things down by the door before venturing
through the halls. “Later on, I’ll give you a little tour…but first let’s go
find someone who is sooo excited to meet you.”
“Harry! Look who it is!” Louis greets warmly, smiling at him as he

maneuvers around the living room to Harry seated on the couch. “Say
hi, Avery.” He coos in babyish voice, holding up one of her tiny hands
to wave it at Harry.
Harry sits motionless like a stone statue as he observes the small infant.
He doesn’t know what to do, it all feels so sudden and overwhelming.
“Do you want to hold her?” Louis offers like it’s so easy. “She’s super
sweet and lovable and it’ll be good for you to bond with her.”
“I um…I…” Harry can’t seem to make his arms move or his brain
work. What is happening? There is a living and breathing child in
Louis’ arms and that child is now his. He is meant to raise her and love
her and provide for her. But Harry can’t even provide for himself right
now, let alone a whole other human life.
this can’t be real, this isn’t happening
“Harry, just hold her. It’s ok.” Louis encourages, holding the small
child out for him.
Harry is young. He is too young for this. Too young to be a father, too
young for that amount of crippling responsibility. He loves babies,
really he does, but it’s not just about holding her, it doesn’t stop there.
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Harry won’t just hold this little baby girl and then give her back to her
parents. No, he is her parent, her only parent. He is the person she will
come to rely on for the rest of her life. And that realization renders
Harry incapacitated, practically choking.
He doesn’t know what it means to be a parent. How could he? Harry

never properly knew his own. He never knew the love of his mother
or had the guidance of his father. How can he become something he
has never seen in practice?
“H, come on. She’s so sweet and adorable!” Louis enthuses, trying to
be helpful and supportive as he bounces Avery. “Look at those little
chubby cheeks! Just hold her. It’ll be ok, you’ll love it.” He places the
three-month old baby in Harry’s arms, positioning his limbs the
correct way. “There you go. Perfect.”
Harry gazes at the baby in his arms for a moment, taking in her tiny
developing features. Looking into her eyes too long hurts,
physically hurts. Tugging sharply at the raw, sore parts of Harry’s
broken heart. Her eyes are strikingly similar to his sister’s, warm and
syrupy, and her tiny little smile brings out crescent indents that match
his own, that match Gemma’s…
He can’t deal with this. Harry can not deal with this right now. He feels
his chest build up with sudden panic, anxiousness coursing through
his veins until he feels sick with it.
“Here…um…I’m just…um—I’m going to take a shower.” Harry

excuses himself, depositing the baby forcefully back into Louis’ arms.
He stands quickly to his feet and shuffles out of the room before Louis
can question him.
This is too much and it’s happening all too fast. How did he get here?
How is he supposed to just accept this as his new life? This isn’t
normal. Nothing makes sense and nothing is as it should be and Harry
wants no part in it.
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||☤||
From that day on, Harry hardly even so much as looks at Avery. He
actively avoids interacting with her beyond what is absolutely
necessary. He goes through the motions of caring for her, of course,
feeding her, changing her, but it’s all robotic and swift. Cold even. As
though looking at her seems to be far too painful for him and the more
distance he keeps the easier it is for him.
Louis tries his best to get Harry to spend more time with her, hoping
he will take the bait, but he never does. Only ever doing the bare
minimum.
One day Louis comes home from a long shift to the sound of agitated
infant cries filling the entire house. Louis weaves his way through the
halls until he reaches the source of the crying in the kitchen.
“Harry?”
He offers no response, standing in the center of the space with Avery

wailing angrily in his arms. He doesn’t even seem to be completely
aware of where he is, zoning out completely as his baby’s face grows
more and more red.
“Harry!” Louis calls again louder, trying to get him to zone back into
reality.
“Huh—what?” Harry suddenly snaps out of it, eyes refocusing and

looking around like he doesn’t have the faintest idea where he is or
how long he has been there.
“You can’t hear her crying?” Louis frowns in concern. He crosses the
room to rescue the screaming baby from Harry’s arms, cuddling her
against his chest as he rocks her gently. “It’s alright, little love. There,
there…shhh. Are you hungry?”
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Louis sets about heating the formula bottle, testing the temperature of
the milk on his wrist before feeding it to the baby. Her cries die out as
she welcomes the bottle. “There you go, Aves. You’re alright.”
Harry looks to Louis oddly, eyes still a bit out of focus, blank
expression on his face, brow folded. His whole demeanor screams
hopelessly lost, as though he is drowning within the sea of his own life.
“Are you ok, Harry?” Louis worries again, rocking Avery back and
forth as he holds the bottle to her mouth.
“I…” Harry shakes his head at a loss, like he hasn’t a clue who he is,
let alone how he feels.
Louis frowns, tilting his head to the side. “I think you should go out
for a bit, maybe…clear your head?”
“What?” Harry blinks in a complete daze, arms held limply to his sides.
“Yeah, you’ve been cooped up in here for too long. You should go out
and get some fresh air or something. I can watch her for you, yeah?”
“Uh…are you…sure? I mean—”
“Yeah, I love babies and Avery is such sweet girl. I adore her.” Louis
smiles down warmly at the baby in his arms. “And I’m just working on
charting for the night. I’ll be up anyway.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Harry asks again still looking so
despondently lost.
“No, really go. Please go.” Louis insists repeatedly, hardly able to stand
the horrid look plastered across Harry’s face. “You need it.”
“Ok…” Harry answers slowly with a slight nod as he starts to stand to

his feet. “Thanks Lou…I uh…I owe you…”
122
“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Louis gives him an encouraging smile.
Hopefully going out will begin to help Harry snap out of the
permanent daze he seems to be in.
||☤||
Harry is long gone by the time Louis finishes feeding Avery. She’s
always sleepy after she eats so Louis doesn’t waste any time in putting
her down for the night in her newly converted nursery. Before Avery
was discharged from the NICU, Louis spent his off days renovating
one of the empty bedrooms into a little nursery just for Avery. It’s not
state of the art or anything like that, but it has all the essentials since
Louis raided the hospital for anything and everything a baby could
possibly need.
After Louis is certain that Avery is fast asleep, Louis tiptoes out of the
nursery and settles down in the downstairs study, spreading out a thick
stack of charts he needs to update. He pulls out his notes from the day
and the voice recorder to get started on the exceedingly boring act of
charting. He only gets through one patient record when he hears the
faint sound of a baby crying wafting around him.
“That was fast.” Louis mumbles to himself as he leaves the study to

trudge back up the stairs. He walks into the nursery and over to the
crib, leaning over the railing to look down at the small, worked up little
girl. “Aves, what is it, baby?”
Louis isn’t quite sure if this is one of those self-soothing moments or

if he should pick her up and try to rock her back to sleep. She’s already
been fed and given a fresh diaper not even 20 minutes ago, so he has
no idea what could possibly be wrong with her.
“Oh it’s ok, it’s ok, little love.” Louis coos softly, rubbing her tummy
gently which always calms her down. And as soon as Louis starts
talking, she recognizes his voice and slowly stops crying, just blinking
up at him peacefully.
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“Yeah that’s it baby, you’re ok.” Louis continues to sooth, whispering
to her in gentle tones. He continues mumbling calming words to her
until she gradually begins to close her eyes. “So you’re alright now,
yeah? Because I’ve sadly got a ton of reading to do and I can’t hang
out with you right now. No matter how adorable you are.”
“Goodnight Aves.” Louis sets her back into her crib and waits a
moment to see if she’ll wake up again. She remains content and asleep
so he once again tiptoes out of the room, cracking the door behind
him. But he doesn’t make it more than two steps down the hall before
she is wailing again.
Louis comes back in the room and leans over the crib again, shaking
his head as he looks down at her. “Avery, my love, what’s the matter?
Huh, baby?”
Again, the sound of Louis’ cooing voice instantly ceases Avery’s cries,
like some kind of magic.
“Oh, so you’re just lonely then?” Louis guesses, smiling a little as he

gazes at her. She’s so precious and innocent, Louis feels like he would
do anything she ever asked of him. Although she is a baby and can’t
verbally ask—but still.
Avery stares back up at him with big, wide hazel eyes, fingers reaching
up towards him.
“Hmm, aren’t we all.” Louis sighs understandingly. He’s been feeling

extremely lonely in this house again. Even though Harry is here, he
isn’t here and Louis can’t help but feel alone sometimes and it’s not the
most welcomed feeling. “I can understand that, Aves. Well…let’s be
lonely together then.”
With that, Louis lifts her up out of the crib, settling her on his hip as
he walks down the hall to collect his notes and charts from the
downstairs study. Avery seems happy perched to his side, observant
eyes categorizing his every move in fascination. Once Louis has
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collected all of his many materials, he carts them and Avery back up
the stairs to the nursery.
“You know, you’re the only girl in the world I’d try this hard
for.” Louis smiles, settling down in the oddly comfortable, old creaky
rocking chair that probably hasn’t been used in ages. It was already in
the room when Louis began converting the nursery and he figured it
might come in handy and it appears that it finally has. “Must be
another Styles’ trait, I suppose. It seems as though I’m easily bewitched
by all of you.”
Avery giggles, eyes bright as she stares up.
“Oh, you find that funny, do you?” Louis smiles, leaning down to blow
raspberries to her tiny cheeks, which only makes her happily squeal
even more. “Of course you do, my little heartbreaker.”
“Alright Aves, as I told you I have a lot of work to do. Are you ready
to chart with me?” Louis asks her curiously.
And whether she understands him or not, she smiles all the same and
it completely melts Louis’ heart.
“I’ll take your beautiful little toothless smile as a yes.” Louis grins,
kissing her cheek before settling her down to one side as he finds a
comfortable position in the chair. “What a pair we make, Aves.”
Louis reads his charts and medical journals out loud as he holds her
and she just listens to him, perfectly content and at peace in his arms.
It becomes a bit of a thing between them, Louis spending his free

evenings babysitting Avery for Harry. Harry takes to going out more
and more and Louis doesn’t quite mind because he really enjoys his
time with his favorite girl. Whenever she can’t sleep Louis sits and
rocks her in the old rocking chair, reading and studying his charts out
loud to soothe her. Usually Benedict will come in the room and curl
himself up at Louis’ feet as Louis charts with Avery.
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Sometimes he’ll take breaks and just talk to her, about nothing really,
about everything too. They understand each other somehow, they
need each other. In more ways than one, it seems. Louis talks to Avery,
and Avery listens, little fists gripping his shirt in comfort, warm wide
honey colored eyes watching in contentment. It easily becomes Louis’
favorite part of the day and he’s always anxious to come home to her.
Every night Louis talks to Avery until she feels safe enough to drift off
to sleep and oftentimes it isn’t long until he nods off to sleep right
after her.
||✚||
Harry is barely holding it together, losing himself with every moment

that passes. Piece by piece, strand by strand, he is unraveling, coming
completely undone at the seams. The weight of grief, the pressure of
fatherhood, the unexpected urgency of it all is mercilessly eating him
at his core.
And he tries to drink it away, he tries to drown his sorrows in the hot
sting of alcohol burning down his throat. He continually chokes back
his tears long enough for the buzzing liquid to slide down, hoping that
maybe it will help, maybe it’ll change something. But it doesn’t help, it
never ever helps and nothing ever changes. Everything is spinning,
everything is confusing, blurry, unfocused. He’s in pain—so much
pain. Nothing makes sense, nothing at all.
So Harry drinks anyway, despite whatever consequences may come,

because how can it possibly get much worse? He drinks to numb the
overwhelming ache, but all it does is make everything hurt more, all it
does is make everything more confusing.
i feel better when i drink…
Everything blurs together and he’s numb. Blissfully numb. And it’s
better to be numb, right? It’s better not to feel.
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…i hate myself when i’m drunk.
Anger, all he knows is deep, profound anger, fed by the rush of

alcohol. The buzz fuels his rage to the point that he hardly recognizes
who he is anymore.
i feel worse when i drink…
Clouded, everything is so, so clouded. Dark and murky. He can’t ever

tell what’s real and what’s not, everything swirling around him like a
fog.
…i hate myself when i’m sober.
All sobriety brings is clarity and with clarity comes memories and all
memories ever bring is pain. Unwanted, raw pain. So the cycle must
march on. On and on and on it goes, contorting Harry’s mind and
emotions, altering what he can tolerate as reality. And maybe the bad
of his actions will outweigh the fleeting good he hopes so desperately
to feel or maybe the scale will balance out somewhere in the middle,
wherever that may be.
||☤||
Normally when Harry comes home, smelling of vodka and tonic he

just collapses on the couch and passes out. Sometimes he’ll even make
it back to his room, rarely, but sometimes. He’s been drinking a lot
lately, utilizing alcohol as a new coping mechanism to ease the pain.
But Louis is certain that it’s not really working, only allowing Harry
another way to run and escape from his problems temporarily. Harry
leaves at night still hungover and comes back ridiculously drunk,
crashing onto a soft surface and blocking the world out until it’s time
to repeat the cycle again the next night.
But tonight is different.
127
Louis just got Avery settled in her crib after rocking her to sleep in his
arms for the past hour. His body is so dead tired from the grueling day
he had standing in surgery for 10 hours. And he’s got to be back at the
hospital again in fewer hours than he cares to admit so he collapses
eagerly on his bed, snuggling his head to the pillow and pulling the
sheets around his body. Louis lets out a blissful sigh as he immediately
starts to drift asleep, when he faintly registers the soft creak of his door
opening.
Silently Harry creeps into his room, sliding right into bed with Louis
without apparent rhyme or reason. He wiggles his way against the
mattress until his body connects with Louis’ and he cuddles against
him soundlessly.
Louis twists around groggily in the sheets to face Harry in the darkness.
“Mm…Harry?” He mumbles quietly, heavy eyes hardly open. It’s not
unusual for Harry to be in his bed, so Louis doesn’t think much of it.
Harry confirms his presence further still by mutely nuzzling his head
into the warm comfort of Louis’ neck.
Louis is barely aware of much of anything, sleepily registering the heat

radiating against his skin, the soft puffs of warm breath tickling his
neck. “Are…are you ok? What’s wrong?”
Harry still doesn’t say a single word, keeping his head buried against
the crook of Louis’ neck. And Louis swears that Harry is smelling him,
just breathing him in, somehow finding some kind of much needed
peace in his scent. Until Harry’s head tilts up at a new angle and Harry
is suddenly mouthing at Louis’ exposed skin. Then another slight slant
of his head and he’s kissing up the length of Louis’ neckline. Lips
trailing in messy, desperate motions, hands beginning to explore the
dips and curves of Louis’ body under the sheets. The warmth of his
eager palms rippling across Louis’ tingling skin, every touch is
electrifying and suddenly Louis is wide awake, aware of every sensation
Harry holds against him.
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Harry pushes closer and closer, pressing their bodies flush together. He
hooks a leg over Louis’, propelling their pelvises against each other as
he continues to trace his adoring mouth along Louis’ skin. A soft
unsuspecting moan escapes Louis’ lips in surprise as he revels in the
feeling. But at the same time, Louis begins to feel the anguished
wetness of Harry’s cheeks against his skin, the feel of silent tears
dripping down onto his shoulder.
Louis pulls back, not really knowing how exactly to react. His
relationship with Harry, whatever it is, although emotionally charged,
has yet to move into the physical realm, all of this is completely
uncharted territory. But yet, here Harry is in his bed, absolutely wasted,
sucking purposefully on his neck and holding him close as though they
are old lovers falling back into practiced routine. “Harry, what’s
wrong?”
Harry avoids Louis’ eyes purposefully, fingers still gripping onto Louis’
body urgently. Their faces are so close, only fractions apart, breathing
the same air, inhabiting the same space.
Louis cups the sides of Harry’s damp cheeks softly with both hands.
“H, talk to me, love. Please.”
Instead of talking, Harry determinedly dips down a bit more and

attaches his lips to the underside of Louis’ jaw again, hands groping
his torso in urgency. “You said whatever I need and I need you…” He
whispers, almost inaudibly, painfully, against Louis’ exposed neck.
Louis lifts Harry’s face back up, forcing him to meet his eyes in earnest,
stroking the sides of his face gently to wipe away his ever falling tears.
“This isn’t going to fix it, this—”
“Please, Louis…please.” Harry begs desperately, the quiet tears

streaming his cheeks are as visible as his constant pain. He moves
Louis’ hands from his face, forcibly sliding them down his own
abdominals, pressing Louis’ palms flat against his body. He offers
himself yearning and aching, preening and craving the independent
129
touch of Louis’ hands. “Please. Just…just touch me. I need you, Lou.
Just one night…please...I want you to—I need you…”
Louis wants him, god, he wants Harry so bad. He can’t deny that. Louis
has been wanting Harry from the very start. And now he’s right here.
Harry is right here, in his bed offering himself willingly, begging for
Louis to claim his offer.
Louis has been trying to fight his blossoming feelings for Harry,
battling his will daily, just wanting to be a good friend to him in his
time of need. Of course he has fantasized about a moment like this, a
cherished moment between them, an opportunity for more…but, Louis
can’t take advantage of him. Harry is at his very lowest, grieving and
broken and he just wants anything to make the pain go away, even for
only a moment. Louis knows exactly how that feels. God knows he
does—he still gets sharp pangs to his heart thinking about the darkest
time of his own life and it’s been years.
As much as Louis wants this with Harry, as much as his body longs
for it, it’s not the right time. If this is going to happen, it has to be
right, when Harry isn’t piss drunk and desperately wanting to forget.
Harry is coaxing his hands lower under the cover of Louis’ shirt, ready
to dip down into the uncharted waters of Louis’ sweatpants. He
continues to lunge at any part of Louis he can get, caressing him in
desperation while heavy tears trail his face in silence.
“Harry, I—”
Harry presses his lips to Louis’ suddenly, effectively cutting off his
words. And Louis gets completely lost for a moment, finding himself
kissing Harry back, allowing himself to revel in the stolen feeling. It
feels so right, Louis never wants to stop. His hands hold Harry’s face
steady as the kiss deepens, sliding his fingers up to tangle in his hair as
their mouths slot together with devout urgency. Harry’s sloppy
uncoordinated tongue pushes further past Louis’ lips. So desperate, so
needy, so frantic.
It is a perfect kiss. Flawless and unprecedented…until the poison sets

in.
130
The bitterness, the despair, and loathing of it all. The realization that
this kiss, this perfect, beautiful kiss is rooted in every cruel form of
desperate need. The need for escape. The need for deliverance. For
relief, for reprieve, for refuge.
the need, the need, the need.
“It won’t help, it won’t…” Louis whispers breathlessly, drawing back

as Harry still reaches, mouth still seeking contact. Louis isn’t sure if
Harry actually wants him or he just needs him to fill the void.
Underneath all that hurt, does Harry have real feelings for him, or is
Louis just ok for right now? Just a temporary fix. “I just don’t think
it’s a good idea...”
“Lou, please…I-I’m—” Harry keeps shaking his head, eyes squeezed

tightly shut, breath coming raggedly as his hands start to tremble.
“Please…p-please…” He’s crying harder now, the emotion catching
up with him as new flushes of tears form at the corners of his eyes,
streaking in hot stains down his cheeks. “I c-can’t—it hurts…” He
starts to curl into himself, fighting his own will, waging war against his
own emotions. “I want it t-to go away…I…I just w-want to forget,
feel something else—just, just for a little while…p-please…”
Louis watches helplessly as Harry falls apart in front of his very eyes.
Having sex right now would ruin them. It would feel great, mind-
blowingly amazing, he’s sure, but just like their stolen kiss, the poison
will set in. That much is undeniable. Tomorrow, when there is nothing
to veil the sobriety, nothing to numb the sting; realization will
resurface, regret will lurk like a dark shadow and resentment will take
hold of all the trust they’ve built and bury them alive.
“Please.” Harry sobs tragically, folded in on himself as his crumpled

frame trembles. He isn’t even asking for sex anymore; he is asking to
not hurt anymore. The agony woven into his cries and every choked
whimper slices through Louis’ heart.
Unable to take any more of this, Louis pulls Harry snug against his
chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his quivering frame, running
his hands up and down the length of his back. All Louis can do is be
131
there for him, soothe him and hold him until the panic dies down, until
the urgency of his pain subsides enough for him to start to function
again. “I know, H. I know.” His heart is breaking for this boy in his
arms, this sad lost boy. Broken and beaten down. “It’s ok, I’m here. I’m
here.”
||☤||
The cycle continues, Harry comes home later and later and sleeps more
and more. Harry digs himself further into a comatose grave every day,
drifting further and further away from reality and Louis doesn’t know
how to reach him. Before, Louis would leave and go to work and Harry
would care for Avery during the day, but now Harry just passes out,
intoxicated beyond belief, not even aware of his surroundings.
And Louis can’t, in good conscience, leave a baby to fend for herself
till he gets home again. His schedule is so wild and hectic, it could be
30+ hours before he walks through those doors again and god only
knows what could happen in that amount of time. So Louis soon finds
himself with no choice but to take Avery to work with him.
“Tomlinson…is that a…baby?” Steve wonders incredulously as if he

can’t believe his eyes. He stands at the doorway in front of the intern
lockers, holding his usual clipboard. “You have a kid?”
“Well, yes it is…but…um…no…kinda…it’s—it’s um complicated?”

Louis rambles, not sure how to best answer that question considering
his unique situation. He huddles Avery to his chest, wrapped up in a
fluffy blanket as he balances a diaper bag with the other hand. “I um–
”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Steve waves off Louis’ jumbled excuse for
the sake of time. “We have rounds.”
“Right.” Louis nods once, snapping his mouth shut, adjusting the strap
of the heavy bag on his shoulder.
132
“Tomlinson, you can’t bring a baby into the ICU! Come on! Where is
your head?” Steve sighs heavily, hands raised in confusion and
frustration. The other interns are all looking at Louis oddly with
questioning eyes. Most of them know him well enough to know that
the baby in his arms can’t be his, but they don’t dare ask questions
right now.
Louis nods again apologetically, rocking the infant against him side to
side to keep her from waking up. “I know, I know I’m sorry, I just—
”
“There are daycare services provided by the hospital, you know?”

Steve continues, cutting Louis off again. He eyes Louis for a moment
before walking up to him to speak privately. “Look, I’ll give you a pass
just this once, Tomlinson, but don’t make a habit of it. Off the record
Louis, I like you…I think you’re a really good guy and a cool person,
but as your Chief Resident I can’t go around giving you special
treatment. You get where I’m coming from right?”
“Yeah, yeah. I understand. I’m sorry.” Louis apologizes again.
“Good, don’t let it happen again, I don’t want to have to report you.”
Steve continues. He waves his hand in a circle motion around Louis
and the baby in his arms. “Sort all that out and then report to The Pit.”
Louis nods his head repeatedly. “Yes, sir. Thank you, I’m on it.”
“Don’t let me catch you pushing a damn stroller around on the surgical
floor.” Steve warns tersely, eyes narrowed. He stares at Louis for
several moments, seeming to wonder why he hasn’t started moving
yet. “Now get out of here! Go!”
“Yes. Ok. Right. Ok.” Louis jumps back into action, scrambling off
with Avery in tow to find the daycare.
||☤||
133
One hour.
One hour, that’s how long Louis is able to go about his work in The
Pit until his pager threatens to attack him, buzzing incessantly. He tries
to ignore it and keep working but he can’t focus because he knows just
who is paging him so urgently.
He checks in with the nurses’ station, spitting off a bullshit excuse

about needing to check on labs before bolting down the corridor and
downstairs to the daycare.
“Hi, hey—I got your page. Is she ok?” Louis jogs up to the daycare, a
bit winded from all the stairs he just blew through.
“I’m so sorry to keep paging you, Dr. Tomlinson, but she won’t stop
crying and we were so worried.” The daycare staff member apologizes,
holding the screaming infant in question. Avery’s face is bright red,
nearly inflamed. “She’s so worked up and fussy, it almost looks like
she’s not breathing. She’s too upset.”
“Ok, ok come here, little love.” Louis coddles, pulling the fussy baby
into his arms and rocking her against his chest. And like magic, once
back safely in Louis’ arms, Avery stops crying, almost like flipping a
switch, suddenly perfectly content.
“Well, look at that…” Another daycare staff girl awes, observing the
interaction.
“You’re ok, sweetheart. It’s ok.” Louis whispers softly to her as he

bounces Avery gently. Her reddened face gradually begins to return to
normal the longer he holds her.
“She’s quite attached to you.” The staff member says in amazement.

“We tried everything to get her to calm down Dr. Tomlinson, but she
was having none of it.”
134
“Oh Aves, are you giving them a hard time?” Louis blows a few kisses
against her cheeks. “I need you to be good for me ok, little love? I have
to go back to work. I’ll be back for you soon, I promise.”
With that Louis kisses the top of her head before attempting to hand
her back over to the daycare. He slowly begins to back away, but she
starts screaming the moment Louis becomes out of reach, tiny fingers
seeking for him once again.
And Louis doesn’t have the heart to just leave her to suffer, so he
rushes back over to his favorite girl. “Ok, ok, ok, you win. Come here,
baby.” He snuggles her back into his arms and just like before, she
instantaneously falls silent and content. “Avery, my little heartbreaker,
what are we going to do with you?”
“That’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like that. Your daughter is
beautiful.”
“Oh, she’s not...” Louis starts, about to correct the girl when Avery
curls her tiny fingers against his chest, clinging to him. Louis gets a bit
lost in his train of thought, gazing down at his little baby and smiling.
“Yeah…yeah she is beautiful, isn’t she?”
||☤||
The next day Louis comes to work with Avery strapped to his chest.
He found an abandoned baby harness in the NICU storage and
decided it’s his best option right now. He isn’t really sure how it’ll work
out, but he’ll just have to spend the day dodging The Chief and also
carefully avoiding Steve.
Louis approaches their usual table in the cafeteria and he’s met with
curious gazes and blatant stares by all his friends.
“What?” Louis sits down in the empty chair waiting for him, setting
about unstrapping Avery from his chest.
135
“Umm…why do you still have that baby?” Liam speaks up first,
holding his fork midair as he watches Louis closely.
“I thought you put her in daycare?” Zayn wonders, making the same
face as Liam. “Wait but—is she even your baby?”
Louis sighs, feeling suddenly even more exhausted then he already was.
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got at least 10 minutes. Spill.” Zayn insists, sucking on a spoon

filled with yogurt. “I love a good story.”
“Who cares whose baby she is, she’s adorable!” Niall gushes, waving
at baby Avery and making the goofiest of faces to make her smile.
“What’s her name?”
“Avery.” Louis reveals proudly, rubbing her back.
“Avery?” Liam furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Isn’t that—”
“Don’t do that, don’t say it’s a boy’s name, Li.” Louis sighs,
interrupting him before he even had a chance. “A name is a name and
I quite like it. It suits her.”
“I like it too.” Niall decides, still completely enraptured by the child.

He has such a fascination with children, he lights up whenever anyone
even mentions a baby. “Can I hold her?”
“If she’ll let you.” Louis warns, unstrapping her completely from the
harness. “She’s very picky about who she lets hold her.”
“Oh well, we will see about that. Babies love me.” Niall readily
welcomes Avery into his arms, cradling her against his chest with ease.
“Hello, Ms. Avery. Hiii!” He makes even more faces at her, to which
Avery just stares quietly, a little tiny indent to her brow. Louis thinks
it looks just like Harry’s. “You’re very, very cute. Yes, yes you are.”
136
“Hmm, well she hasn’t started crying so she must like you at least a
little bit.” Louis guesses with a shrug.
“She likes me!” Niall squeals excitedly, looking down at the baby in his
arms. “You like me! I passed the test.”
“I think you should join the preschoolers.” Zayn suggests, observing

Niall and his pediatric skills from across the table. “It’s definitely your
calling.”
“Zayn, there is nothing weak about Pediatrics.” Niall corrects,

defending the notoriously slandered department. “Working with tiny
humans is an honor and I really enjoy it. And not everyone can do it,
it’s badass.”
“Sure, sure.” Zayn nods sarcastically.
“Ok, but am I the only one still wondering whose baby this is?” Liam
pipes up again, sipping on the straw of his smoothie.
“Yeah, you got a baby mama we don’t know about, Lou?” Zayn
wonders in teasing.
“No, obviously.” Louis rolls his eyes, reaching over to take a few of
Niall’s fries. “It’s—remember Gemma?”
“Yeah, of course, terminal mixed glioma case, right?”
“Right. Well, you know Harry, her brother?” Louis asks next. “I
brought him to lunch once.”
“Oh yeah…I liked him…” Niall nods slowly as he remembers. “A cool

dude, that guy. I mean, I’ve only talked to him, like, twice when his
sister was here, but he was always really nice.”
137
“Yeah, he’s great.” Louis smiles softly before continuing. “So anyway,
he’s been staying with me and when Gemma died, she left the baby to
him, but he’s going through a hard time, so I’m just helping him out a
bit.”
“Helping him out…” Liam echoes, seeming to process this

information.
“Oh, I heard about that.” Zayn nods slowly. “That really sucks. I can’t
imagine losing my sister on top of suddenly becoming a dad overnight.
That’s a lot, I really feel for him.”
“Wait? He’s staying with you too?” Niall asks, just now catching that
part. “Why didn’t we know about this?”
“I dunno? It never came up, I guess?” Louis shrugs. He’s just now
starting to get to know his fellow interns on a personal enough level
to call them his friends. Considering his life so far, it’s really hard for
him to open up to people, which is what makes his easy connection
with Harry so special and rare. “He’s been staying with me since the
beginning, I thought I told you guys that?”
“No, you didn’t, but that doesn’t matter now.” Liam brushes off,
obviously still concerned about the baby. “Ok, so if she is Harry’s
baby, why do you have her then? I mean Avery is his responsibility
now. So…”
“Look, he just lost his sister, ok?” Louis tries to explain. “They were
really close and he’s not taking it very well and he’s...”
“He’s what?” Zayn prompts when Louis falls silent.
“He just…he goes out a lot…I don’t know—he’s coping.” Louis

brushes off, shrugging again.
“And coping is code for...drinking, I’m guessing.” Zayn surmises,

stealing the rest of Liam’s smoothie.
138
“Louis, you should call child protective services.” Liam advises
seriously, meeting Louis’ eyes. “He’s a drunk and he seems to be
neglecting the child.”
“Harry is not a bad person or abusive!” Louis defends instantly, voice

raised. “I know he cares about Avery…I know he does, but he’s hurt
and he never asked for any of this. It’s really hard for him! I know what
he’s going through and it fucking sucks! It’s a lot to adjust to and you
feel helpless and nothing makes sense—the least I can do is help. It’s
only temporary until he gets back on his feet.”
“Ok, Ok, Lou. Forget I mentioned it. Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you, Liam.” Louis apologizes,
instantly regretting his outburst. He knows his friends are just trying
to help him. “Thank you for being concerned. But I promise
everything is ok.”
“Ok.” Liam nods, backing down. “But you’ll tell us if anything changes
right?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll keep you updated. And—oh shit!” Louis curses,
looking down at his beeping pager. “It’s Carmichael.” He swishes in
his chair to face Niall urgently. “Niall, are you free? Please, please say
your free.”
“Uhh, I mean kinda?” Niall shrugs noncommittally as he takes a bite

out of his burger. “I’m just running labs for Dr. Lindsay today, waiting
for results—”
“Perfect! Here.” Louis eagerly shoves a diaper bag at Niall.
“Wait, what?” Niall looks down at his lap in surprise.
“Carmichael is paging me 911 on her head lac which means I’ve got a
surgery to scrub in on and I can’t bring Avery and she likes you and,
and—I have to go.” Louis rambles out in a hurry, carefully positioning
139
the baby in question into Niall’s arms. “I’ve already missed so many
things because of Avery. I can’t miss this. I’ll flunk out of the
program.”
“Louis—”
“I owe you, I owe you! I’ll do all your rectal exams and enemas for a
month!” Louis offers easily, willing to offer just about anything at this
point. “Or anything else you want. Pleeease, Niall.”
“Fineee. But only for Avery because she's so, so cute and adorable.”
Niall baby talks, blowing on Avery’s chubby little cheeks.
“Thank you, I love you!” Louis plops a dramatic kiss to the top of
Niall’s head. “Everything’s in this bag, ok. You shouldn’t have any
problems but…you can handle it. I trust you, you’re a doctor.”
“Zayn is also a doctor and I don’t see you trusting him with your
baby.” Niall smirks, lifting his head pompously.
“Just another reason why I don’t belong on the baby catcher squad.”
Zayn mumbles, rolling his eyes.
||☤||
The second Louis gets out of surgery, he rushes eagerly to find Niall.
He was so distracted during the procedure, hoping that Avery was
alright for the past few hours and not giving Niall too hard of a time.
He finds Niall sprawled out on one of the conference room couches,

a sleeping Avery resting on his chest, sucking on a pacifier. “Niall! I—
”
“Shh!” Niall hushes instantly in a whisper, resting a hand on Avery’s

back. “You’ll wake her…”
140
But obviously it’s too late, it’s no secret that Avery is a notoriously
light sleeper. She stirs awake, stretching her little limbs out as Niall sits
up, righting himself and the baby in his arms.
Avery sees Louis and automatically starts gurgling and smiling happily,
so Louis excitedly walks over to them and lifts her up. “Hi baby girl! I
missed you!” He kisses all over her cheeks, nuzzling against her soft
skin. “Yes, I did, I missed you so much, Aves! Were you good for
Niall?”
“Yeah, she did really good. We had fun today.” Niall smiles, standing
up to tickle Avery’s tummy. “Didn’t we, Avery? Yeah, we did.”
Avery giggles around her pacifier, obviously having made a new friend
in Niall.
“Ready to go home, little love?” Louis bounces her on his hip,

balancing the heavy diaper bag in his other hand. He’s gotten quite
good at lugging around baby supplies while keeping Avery content in
his arms. It takes a lot of juggling, but he’s basically mastered it. “I
can’t thank you enough, Niall. I really owe you.”
“Yeah, mate. No problem.” Niall pats Louis’ shoulder, but there’s a

hint of concern in his eye. “Hey, but um…how are you going to
manage all this? I mean it doesn’t seem like Harry is ready for the
whole dad thing and you can’t balance basically being a single dad as
an intern…so…”
Louis sighs, wishing he knew the answer to that himself. Admittedly

it’s a lot for him to handle and he was barely making it as an intern
before he had a baby strapped to his chest. “I don’t know…I’ll figure
something out. I don’t know…”
“I’m just…I’m worried about you, Lou.” Niall admits genuinely. “As
your friend, I just want to know that you’re ok. I’ll help as much as I
can, but I don’t want to see you fall too far behind.”
141
“Thanks Niall, I really appreciate it, mate.” Louis feels touched that
his friends want to rally around him. It’s nice to have people around
that have got his back.
Niall smiles, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulder. “We’ve gotta

stick together if we’re gonna make it though this.”
||☤||
Niall was right about Harry not being ready. Everyday he gets worse,
drawing further into himself and putting more and more pressure on
Louis to pick up the slack with Avery. Having a baby is hard enough
with two parents, but to pull that load himself, while working the
impossible hours he does, is practically suicide. But somehow Louis
finds a way to make it work, at least somewhat. Louis gets by using a
schedule he developed where Avery goes to daycare for 2 hours in the
morning, the max she will stand for, while Louis does his morning
rounds and usual intern scut work.
And for the rest of the day, although against his competitive nature,
he tries not to offer himself up for any surgical spots with the
attendings. Instead he lurks in the background, settling for running
labs and doing busy work, things he can easily do with Avery strapped
to his chest. And, if he really needs to, for a surgery or something, he
can pawn her off to Niall or even Zayn and Liam if he’s lucky, in
exchange for doing their charts or scut. It’s not a perfect system, but
it works for a while. Or it does until The Chief notices.
“Fuck, it’s Chief Phillips.” Louis hisses, noticing his signature grey
slicked back hair rounding the corner. He looks down anxiously at
Avery harnessed to his chest, seeing no possible way to hide her. The
panic begins to set in as The Chief looms closer, purposefully
approaching the cluster of awaiting interns. Chief Phillips isn’t exactly
someone to mess around and joke with, he runs a tight ship and he’s
been doing it for the past 40 years. There is no way he is going to let
this slide when he finds out, Louis might as well pack his things and
leave the program now. Well there goes his career, maybe he can start
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a daycare of his own or something if this whole medicine thing doesn’t
work out.
“Here, stand behind us.” Niall offers instantly, being the best friend
Louis could ever ask for. Liam and Zayn nod their heads in immediate
agreement, the three of them sheltering both Louis and Avery from
view just in the nick of time.
“Alright young doctors, I have an incoming case and I need an intern.”

Chief Phillips announces, standing in front of all the first years. “But
first, which one of you can tell me the proper medical term for worms
presented as cysts in the brain?”
None of the interns raise their hands immediately so of course, Chief

Phillips begins to call on them at random, demanding an answer
whether they have one or not.
“Horan!” Chief Phillips calls, shifting his steely gaze to Niall.
“Hmm? Uh yes, sir?” Niall stalls, blinking widely.
“An answer please, Dr. Horan.”
“Oh uh…right…ok…” Niall stammers, fish-mouthing without a clue.

“Um neurological uh cranioblastowormoma…?”
“No!” Chief Phillips bursts. “Are you just making things up? That’s
not even a word, Horan! Go to The Pit!”
Niall nods sheepishly, seeming to have expected that exact reaction.
“Malik!” Chief Phillips barks next, turning towards Zayn for a better
response.
“Right—yes, I know this, it’s um…trichinosis?” Zayn tries, voice

sounding anxious.
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“No, but that’s close.” Chief Phillips considers, accepting Zayn’s
answer for now.
Avery starts giggling against Louis’ chest, squealing as she squirms in

her harness. “Shh Aves.” Louis whispers, trying to keep her quiet and
hopefully undetected.
“Payne, how about you?” The Chief questions next.
Liam, utterly distracted by Avery behind him, blinks at The Chief like
a blank slate. “Um…uh…brain worms?”
“No Payne. I just said they’re worms in the brain! If you’re going to go
basic, at least give me a synonym.” Chief Phillips sighs in
disappointment. “You’re on scut today.”
“Erm…sorry, sir.” Liam apologizes with a bowed head. He hasn’t

moved yet, still trying to help Louis out by standing in front of him.
Louis is internally praying and hoping that maybe Chief Phillips will
miraculously skip over him today or maybe he won’t see him from
behind the other interns or maybe—
“Tomlinson!” Chief Phillips barks, looking down at his clipboard. “Do

you have an answer for me?”
“Um…” Louis lifts his head, debating whether he should bother

saying the right answer. “Neurocysticercosis um sir.”
“Yes exactly, at least one of you interns has a functioning brain. Now,
how would you—Tomlinson!” Chief Philips interrupts himself, finally
getting a good look at Louis and the little infant attached to him. “Are
you running a daycare! This is a hospital, not a playground!” Chief
Phillips yells and it’s exactly what Louis was expecting. “I keep hearing
rumors but—why on earth is there a baby fastened to your chest?”
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“Well…um…” Louis stutters, looking down at the peaceful baby
cradled against him. “It’s just that I—”
“Where is your wife?” Chief Phillips questions, interrupting Louis’

blubbering.
“I don’t…erm have a wife, sir.” Louis tries, although a bit offended by

that sexist comment. “She’s not my uhh—”
“A baby out of wedlock. Tomlinson, I didn’t figure you for the type.”
Louis stares blankly, not knowing what to say. “Uhh…”
Chief Phillips walks up to him and pulls Louis aside to talk to him away
from the other doctors. “Look Louis, I’m glad to see you’re such an
attentive father, but there is no place for babies in the O.R.”
“Right–I know, sir. Of course.” Louis nods repeatedly, trying to

mentally prepare himself to hear The Chief tell him to head to his
locker and clean out his things. “You’re absolutely right.”
“You’re a surgeon, son.” The Chief reminds pointedly. “I’ve checked

your log recently and you are falling behind the other interns. By now
you should have way more hands-on hours and O.R. exposure. This is
a very completive program, Tomlinson. You have to keep up or you
won’t make it through.”
“I understand that, sir. I want to be here. I assure you.” Louis promises

sincerely.
“You have immense potential, Louis. Unlike many I’ve seen come
though here.” Chief Phillips compliments positively. “You’re the most
promising intern of your class. You have the intellect and the capacity
to make it and from what I’ve seen you have a bright future ahead of
you. Don’t waste it.”
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Louis blinks back at his boss in surprise, taken off guard by his genuine
vote of confidence. It’s rare for any of his supervisors or attendings to
rain down praise on an intern, let alone The Chief of Surgery.
“Erm…thank you, Chief…I—I won’t let you down, I’ll do better, I
promise.”
“Glad to here it.” Chief Phillips claps a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Now
sort yourself out, get that child to the daycare and then report to
Neuro, you’ll be on Dr. Carmichael’s service today.”
“Right, yes sir.”
||☤||
“Harry?” Louis knocks on Harry’s door, unsurprisingly receiving no

answer. He twists the knob, finding the door unlocked. He flips on the
light switch and presses inside the dingy bedroom.
Harry is passed out shirtless on the bed, body half tangled up in the
sheets. The room smells absolutely foul, rank alcohol reeking the air.
There are clothes strewn over the bedside desk and dresser. Old
takeout boxes and disregarded trash and junk litter the ground so
heavily, Louis can’t even see the carpet.
Louis carefully maneuvers his way through the bedroom, only

stumbling a few times on forgotten shoes and belt buckles. “Hey,
Harry.” He looms over the side of the bed, speaking gently.
Harry groans a little, but doesn’t move, face pressed into the mattress
with his hair fanned out in a curly mess over his features.
“Harry, I have to talk to you.” Louis tries, speaking at normal volume

this time, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s important.”
And it really is, Louis has reached the end of his rope. He can’t do this
anymore, it’s not even realistic. Something needs to change.
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“Huh…?” Harry grumbles groggily, hardly stirring from sleep.
“Hmm? Huh…”
Patience starting to wear thin, Louis gives Harry a shove to his

shoulder, jolting his unmoving body. “Harry! Wake up!”
Harry’s frame shakes like a ragdoll, but his eyes still don’t open, he just
rolls with the punches. Louis would assume he was totally comatose
or maybe even passed out dead if it wasn’t for the little breaths
escaping his nostrils.
Louis sighs heavily, releasing Harry only to frown at the bed. An idea
comes to him and he quickly leaves the dingy room only to come back
a few minutes later with a glass of ice cold water. He pauses a moment
before forcing himself to give Harry a dose of tough love, splashing
the cool water right over Harry’s face.
Harry jerks up instantly, eyes wide open, wet hair falling like a dark
curtain over his face. “What the fuck, Louis!” He shouts, shaking out
his long hair as he hops out of the wet bed.
“We need to talk.” Louis answers simply, watching Harry fluster and
shake out his hair. He really didn’t want to do it, but what other choice
did he have? A conversation between them is long overdue and if
Louis doesn’t make it happen, it never will.
“What the hell is wrong with you!” Harry yells, finding a towel on the
ground among the mess and using it to dry off his face.
“I need to talk to you, that what’s wrong with me!” Louis shouts back
unapologetically. “And you’re always passed out or gone somewhere,
so I never have the chance!”
Harry scrubs his face, pushing his soggy hair from his eyes. He stands
in front of Louis, shrugging in the most uncommitted, apathetic way.
“Ok. Fine. So talk then…what?”
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Louis sighs, eyeing Harry seriously. “This isn’t working, Harry…”
“What isn’t working?” Harry frowns, an eerie blankness in his eyes.
“This.” Louis gestures around them with both of his raised hands.
“I’m happy to help you out—more than happy, really. I know that
you’re going through a lot and I want to be here for you the best that
I can. I love watching Avery and taking care of her and everything, but
you have to at least meet me halfway here.”
“Why?” Harry shrugs again, seeming to lose interest in the

conversation as he carelessly brushes past Louis and out the bedroom
door.
“Why?!” Louis echoes in pure disbelief, following Harry down the hall.
“Harry, you can’t be serious…”
Harry sighs—maybe even groans, annoyance coating his voice. “I

mean…you’re doing such a great job.”
“Wha…” Louis starts to question, voice fading out at a genuine loss.

He stares blankly at Harry for a few moments, mouth slack, before he
snaps back. He knows Harry isn’t himself right now, but Louis can’t
just sit back and take this. “You can’t just treat me like a nanny! I’m a
doctor, I have a job! Which is a lot more than I can say about you at
the moment! I’m falling behind in my class and I can’t do this
anymore.”
“Well what do you want me to do about it!?” Harry spins around on

his heel to yell, features pulled into a frown.
“You’re a father, Harry!” Louis reminds in a raised tone. If Harry

wants to yell, he can certainly yell too. “A father! And I know you didn’t
plan on it, but that’s how it is and—”
“No!” Harry screams back, voice suddenly filled with latent anger.
“No! I’m not a fucking father! I’m not!”
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“Oh, grow the fuck up!” Louis bursts, throwing his hands up in
frustration.
“Excuse me?!”
“You go out nearly every night and get shitface drunk and sleep the
day away when you have responsibilities! When you have a child that
is depending on you!” Louis shouts, getting his frustrations out. “I get
that people need time to grieve, I get that more than anyone! I’ve been
there! But at some point you have to suck it up and move on! I know
it’s a lot of changes all at once, but you aren’t even trying!”
“I’m not trying! I’m not trying?! Oh fuck you, Louis.” Harry grunts,
turning away from him again.
At the sound of all the unusual shouting, Avery starts crying in the
distance, probably wide awake in her crib. The cries echo through the
house, surrounding Harry and Louis.
“For her. For Avery, you need to fucking get your shit together.” Louis
tells him, already on his way to soothe the aggravated infant. “She
deserves better from you.”
“I don’t owe her anything.” Harry spits bitterly. “She doesn’t deserve
anything from me.”
“Look Harry, I know you’re mad at everything, but that baby in there
hasn’t done a single thing wrong. She is innocent in every way and I
won’t let you project your frustration towards the situation at her.”
Louis says, moving back down the hall towards Harry again.
Harry breathes heavily, looking like he can hardly stand up on his own
two feet for much longer. And before Louis knows it, Harry is
sobbing, entire face cracking right down the middle. He hunches over
against himself, about to fall over, but Louis rushes over to catch him
in his arms. Louis holds Harry up, allowing him to weep tragically
against his shoulder.
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“Harry.” Louis starts softly, but Harry just shakes his head repeatedly,
tears pouring profusely from his eyes and it breaks Louis’ heart.
“Harry, I know you don’t want to hear it.”
Harry continues to whip his head to and fro, fighting to free himself
from Louis’ hold around him as though he knows what Louis is about
to say. His body jolts, tremoring in mighty shakes as his sobs grow
stronger.
“But it’s been almost 7 months since Gemma di—”
“Don’t say it! Stop!” Harry screams painfully, pulling away from Louis
completely.
“Harry, she is gone. You can’t lie to yourself or wish it away. Your
sister is gone.” Louis continues, head tilted. He knows how hard it is
to hear those words, to accept those words. He knows just how jarring
and painful it can be to accept reality. “You have to start to move on
with your life. She wouldn’t want this for you.”
“Shut up!” Harry shrieks angrily, tears in his eyes.
“Oh I know, H. I know it hurts. I know.” Louis speaks in the gentlest

of tones, trying to keep himself together for Harry’s sake. He wants to
fall down and cry along with Harry, grieve and scream about how cruel
life is but he can’t—he won’t. “It’s hard and it fucking hurts, but you
have to find it within yourself to start to piece your life back together.
I know you don’t want to, I know it seems easier to never move on,
but you have to, Harry, you have to. You have a baby to think about
now and—”
“She’s not my baby! I don’t want her! I didn’t ask for her! She’s
not mine!” Harry screams resentfully, eyes rimmed with a furious red.
“I don’t have a fucking baby!”
Louis slowly takes a marginal step closer, eyes sad but soft as he
continues to try and get through to Harry any way he can. “Avery
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needs family right now. She doesn’t have a mother anymore, she has
you. And she needs you—Harry she needs you so much.”
“I don’t care…” Harry mumbles quietly to the ground and Louis

knows he’s not speaking the truth. He can see it in the hesitance of
Harry’s tone and the flicker of doubt in his eye.
Louis takes another small step closer, speaking as though he might

spook him if he talks too loudly. “Harry, you don’t mean that—”
“Don’t tell me what I mean!” Harry yells again angrily, eyes red.
He looks so broken, the pain he carries spilling from the corners of his
eyes. And Louis truly hurts for Harry, his heart goes out to him, over
and over and over again. He wishes Harry didn’t have to feel this,
didn’t have to work through all the harrowing agony surrounding him.
There’s not only pain in his eyes, but fear. He’s scared and rightfully
so. Everything about his future is uncertain and new, which makes it
so much easier to want to cling to the past. Hold onto an ideal he
knows, a way of life he remembers.
“Gemma was everything to you, I’m so sorry she’s gone, I’m sorry you
lost her. Everyday I…I wish with all my heart that it was different. It’s
not fair, nothing is fair and I’m so sorry. I know you’re scared right
now and I know everything seems overwhelming and terrifying but
this is her daughter, Harry. The very last piece of her and although you
didn’t plan this for your life, she left Avery to you, in your care. Just
because you didn’t expect it, doesn’t mean it can’t turn out for good.
Beautiful, beautiful good.” Louis talks so gently, trying to choose his
words wisely to reach Harry in this fragile state of mind. “I know how
much Gemma meant to you, how much you loved her—”
“I don’t need you to tell me how I felt about my sister!” Harry shouts
bitterly, interrupting Louis with his shouts. “I don’t fucking need it!
And I don’t need your sympathy, ok! I don’t need any of it!”
“Harry, I didn’t mean—”
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“You know what? I’m just gonna go.” Harry announces suddenly, an
odd determination lighting his features.
“What?” Louis blinks back in stunned surprise, not even sure that he
heard Harry right.
“Yeah, this isn’t working. You said you can’t raise her for me and I’m
obviously a huge fucking inconvenience in your life…so why should I
stay here? What is the goddamn point of it all?”
“You are not an inconvenience. I never said you had to leave, I only
said that I need you to start taking more responsibility for your life.
You are better than this, Harry.” Louis tries, moving closer to him
once more. “I want you to stay and—”
“Stay so what?!” Harry jumps to interrupt again. “You can judge me

every goddamn day!?”
“Harry, I only want to help you. I’m not judging you at all. I could
never. You know me, you know I would never judge anything about
you.” Louis promises genuinely, but Harry still doesn’t seem to be
hearing him. “I really care about you and—”
“I can’t deal with this!” Harry groans, hands angrily scraping against
his scalp as though deeply tormented. “I can’t deal with my dead sister
and this baby and you riding my ass too! I can’t! I’ve got to get out of
here!”
“What?” Louis questions again in genuine confusion, eyebrows pulled

with worry. “Harry, where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.” Harry decides strongly, turning
towards the hallway again. “I don’t need this. I don’t need you.”
“H, it’s nearly two in the morning! You don’t have anywhere to go!”
Louis shouts, trying to get Harry’s attention. “Harry! Harry!”
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Harry storms off down the hall, blatantly ignoring all Louis’ calls.
Avery is still wailing in the background from her nursery, which
happens to be just where Harry is headed.
“You can’t just take her!” Louis rushes to follow behind Harry.
“I’ll do what I want, Louis!” Harry spins around to yell.

“She’s my responsibility remember! Not your problem anymore!”
“Harry, how are you going to responsibly take care of her!? You don’t
even have a job!”
“I still have the rest of my parent’s money…it’ll be enough until I start

working. I’ll figure it out!”
“But…you can’t drive!” Louis shouts, saying anything that comes to

mind to get Harry to stop and think about what he’s doing. “You can’t
drive, you don’t have a car.”
“I’ll call for a cab.” Harry adjusts, not stopping.
“And go where!?” Louis yells, placing a hand on Harry’s arm. “You

aren’t thinking clearly! You’re hungover and angry and emotional and
you need to calm down and think this through.”
“Stop telling me what to do, Louis!” Harry bursts in blind defiance,

yanking his arm away. “Just shut up and let me go!”
“Oh my god, Harry! Just stop and listen to yourself for fucks sake!
What the hell is wrong with you!?”
“You!” Harry roars right in Louis’ face. “You’re what’s wrong with
me! You and your self-righteous nagging!”
“Harry, please...” Louis begs gently, willing that the real Harry make
an appearance. The kindhearted, funny, sweet boy that rambles in
French sometimes without realizing it. The boy that loves to wake him
up at the crack of dawn to share his weird ideas when he can’t sleep.
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The boy who has a huge soft spot for dogs with sad eyes. The boy who
bashfully shared his personal list of dreams for his future life. This is
not Harry. This is not him, but he is somewhere inside the angry and
hurt shell of a man standing before Louis and Louis would do nearly
anything to bring him back. “I’m really not trying to tell you how to
live, H. I’m not, I promise I’m not. I’m just saying—”
“Stop saying! Stop saying anything! I don’t want to hear it anymore!”

Harry shakes his head repeatedly, shutting Louis out. “I’m leaving!”
“I can’t just let you leave—”
“Well, it’s not up to you now, is it?” Harry throws back heading
towards Avery’s nursery, her cries still filling up the house.
“Wait!” Louis runs up behind him and stands in front of the door to
her nursery, eyeing Harry openly. “Just let me at least have a moment
to say goodbye to her.”
“Fine.” Harry huffs, brushing past Louis towards his own room.
Louis takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself before he enters

Avery’s room. His hand shakes as he turns the doorknob and his heart
races as he slowly approaches the crib holding his favorite girl. “Oh,
hi Aves. Hi baby…it’s ok, little love.” Louis lifts her up and cradles her
snuggly in his arms. “Shh it’s ok. You’re ok, I’m here. I’m right here.”
He bounces her gently, soothing the baby until her cries settle down.
“You’re the sweetest little thing.” Louis whispers softly, cheek pressed
to the top of her head as he holds her close. She’s got that sweet, sweet
baby smell, pure and welcomed. A smell he’s grown so accustomed to
over the past 7 months since she was born into his life. “I’m going to
miss you so, so much.”
He sways with her softly, rocking side to side on his feet. He has come
to see her as more than just any other baby, she’s a part of him. She’s
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everything to him. This gentle little baby has somehow wiggled herself
right into the makings of his heart.
“It’s not goodbye forever, ok? It’s not. I promise.” Louis cuddles her
close, trying so hard to keep his voice even because he knows it might
startle her if he sounds off. Babies are so intuitive in that way, and
Avery has always been drawn to the sound his voice for some reason.
“We’ll see each other again.”
Louis’ voice cracks a bit as he speaks and Avery seems to sense that
something is different. It doesn’t take very long for her cries to start
up again, tiny face quickly turning an angry red as she gets worked up.
“Yeah I know sweetheart, I know.” Louis breathes against her,

shutting his eyes for a moment, willing his own heart to calm down.
“But it’s all going to be ok. You’ll be ok, little love. You’re a fighter.
Just like your mum. Everything is going to be ok.”
Avery continues to cry nonetheless, chubby cheeks growing redder

and redder. Louis rubs her back in slow circles just like she likes,
holding her right up to his chest.
“Oh, please don’t cry baby, you won’t be gone for long…” Louis tries,
and he sincerely hopes it to be true. That hopefully Harry will sober
up and see reason, that maybe he’ll wake up from the sleepwalking
state he’s in and come back to Louis.
“And I promise I’ll never forget you while we’re apart. You always be
my Aves.” Louis presses his lips to her tiny forehead tenderly. “No
matter what.”
He kneels down and gently places Avery in her baby carrier by the
door, buckling her little arms and legs into the portable seat. Her eyes
are wide with uncertainty, cheeks still flushed from all of her crying.
When Louis is done, he sits back on his heels and just smiles at her,
committing to memory all the little details about her that make her his
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Aves. “Ok love, now show me that little heartbreaker smile.” He gives
her tummy a little tickle, blowing soft raspberries to her neck and
cheeks. “Come on baby girl, smile for me please.”
Avery’s tiny face breaks with a cute little giggle, lips upturning in a
gummy smile as she beams up at him.
“Aww, there it is.” Louis whispers quietly, smiling back. Although his
smile is cracked and broken. It’s worried and it’s strained. He doesn’t
want to let her go, he doesn’t want Harry to leave. He never envisioned
this conversation turning out like this, how could he have ever
predicted something like this? This all feels impossibly wrong and
Louis doesn’t know what he can do to stop it.
“Give her to me.” Harry says suddenly as he walks into the room,
duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “My cab is here.”
“Bye, Aves. I’ll miss you, my love.” Louis murmurs, leaning in to kiss
her cheek one last time. He stands to his feet, lifting the handle of the
baby car seat and slowly handing it over to Harry.
Avery goes back to screaming instantly, wailing and squirming from

the seat suspended in Harry’s gasp. Harry looks down at her as though
he is paralyzed. Louis can see the fear and the doubt manifesting in his
gaze, but then Harry takes a deep breath, shaking himself out before
turning to leave the nursery.
“Wait, take this.” Louis picks up the diaper bag that he takes with him
to work everyday. “It...um…it has her favorite blanket in it and
um...her little stuffed walrus that she likes to cuddle with—especially
after she first wakes up from her nap. And there’s a…um nursery book
that I read to her when she’s restless…she likes the one about the three
little bears…I don’t know why though, but…it works every time.”
Louis rambles in explanation, trying so hard to keep his voice even.
“And um…s-she has two different pacifiers but…she only likes the
blue one with the little birdie on it, the other one she’ll just spit out or
uh throw it on the floor.” He lets out a sad laugh, running his hand
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through his hair. “And there’s also some essentials in there, diapers
and food and stuff…”
“Yeah, thanks…” Harry mumbles, expression utterly overwhelmed.

His features are weighed down by what looks to be sudden anxiety and
apprehension.
Louis touches Harry’s arm gently, meeting his eyes in pleading, hoping
somehow he can convince him to stay. “Harry, you really don’t have
to do this.”
“Yes, I do.” Harry shrugs away from Louis’ touch defiantly. He turns
on his heel and exits the room, carrying the crying baby down the
stairs. Avery’s loud cries are mixed with Benedict’s incessant barking,
sounds of distress echoing throughout the home.
Louis quickly follows right behind Harry, not giving up as he trails him
to the front door of the house. “No, you don’t, Harry. Really, you
don’t. I don’t want you to—”
“Look, thank you for all you’ve done.” Harry interrupts, not even
turning around as he opens up the front door and walks right out to
the porch. “You did more than you ever had to for me. I’m sorry that
I fucked up your life. I’m sorry for being a burden—I’m sorry…”
“No, Harry…it’s not like that, you aren’t a burden. Just listen to me,
ok?” Louis tries, stumbling behind him. He doesn’t even bother to
close the front door, causing Benedict to run right out, barking
relentlessly at Harry.
“Now you’re off the hook and you can become a world class surgeon
and save millions of lives and there is no one to hold you back.” Harry
keeps on talking as he continues down the driveway towards his
awaiting cab. He is so blinded by the severity of his pain, blocking his
emotions out so much he can’t even gage reality, or even begin to
measure the weight of his actions.
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The late night sky above them looks sick, angry with misery, a storm
brewing in the dark clouds. The heavy air is fogged, mirroring the
drifting contents of Louis’ muddled brain. He is nearly choking with
uncertainty, uneasiness washing over him like the raindrops starting to
fall from the dreary sky.
“Harry, please! Listen to me!” Louis begs desperately, watching Harry

strap Avery’s car seat into the back of the cab. “I want you to stay—”
“You really are an incredible person, Louis…and I know you’ll do

great things.” Harry mumbles genuinely, turning away from the car to
finally face Louis. He pauses for a moment, searching Louis’ eyes
thoughtfully. “I’ll always be glad I met you.”
Louis shakes his head wildly, the conclusiveness of Harry’s words

beginning to take shape in his heart. This can’t be the end for them,
this can’t be how it ends. It’s so unfinished, there is so much more
between them, Louis knows it, he feels it. “Harry, no wait, I lov—”
“Bye Louis.” Harry cuts him off before he can finish, breaking their
gaze. He hurriedly slides into the cab, shutting the door behind him.
Shutting Louis out.
Louis stands on the curb in front of his house long after the taxi has
pulled away, but he can’t will his body to move. Everything trapped
inside him feels numb and void, shocked beyond belief, beyond
understanding. There is only one other time in his entire life when
Louis has felt this before.
That empty, cruelly hollow feeling. And maybe since it’s not a new
feeling to Louis, he can feel it and recognize it that much stronger, that
much faster. He can feel it rising up like the tide threatening to
consume him with one mighty blow. Emptiness opening up in his
chest like a black hole, destroying all that Louis had spent years
building up in himself again, annihilating all the progress he’s made.
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How is it that in every version of his life, no matter how hard he fights,
no matter how much he tries, Louis always seems to end up back
where he started.
Alone.
Louis let Harry in and he left. Harry actually left him.
He left the searing gaze in his eye like raging burns to Louis’ flesh. He
left his broken kiss like a bruise to Louis’ lips. He left his needy touch
like imprints tattooed to Louis’ skin. Permanent scars carved like war
wounds decorating the invisible battleground of Louis’ body. A badge
of honor, a badge of shame. Both somehow one in the same.
On that curb, Louis stands, like a statue frozen in time, held hostage
in a standstill, staring down an empty street. Waiting for oncoming
headlights to blind him, waiting for tires to screech to a halt, waiting
for a car door to fly open, waiting for a boy to run back into his arms.
He can keep waiting, he can keep on waiting forever, but Louis knows
the longer he waits, the more it’s going to hurt when he final turns
away. When he finally accepts the cruel reality that once again he is all
alone in the world. Completely alone.
don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
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CHAPTER 2
feel it beat.
|☤|
eight years later.
“Morning, Carrie!” Louis waves at the young college age kid behind
the counter as he strolls into the hospital gift shop.
“Hey, Dr. T!” Carrie greets back warmly. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too.” Louis smiles, leaning up against the front
desk. “How are you today?”
“I’m good. Same old, same old.” Carrie shrugs a bit.
“I feel that.” Louis nods, blowing out a stream of air. “And how’s your
mum doing?”
“She’s really good, thanks.” Carrie smiles. “She asks about you and she
always says to tell you to stop working so much.”
Louis laughs a little, shaking his head. Last spring, he met Carrie when
he treated her mother for severe epileptic episodes with a temporal
lobectomy. But with a condition so severe, her mum couldn’t work as
much anymore and Carrie didn’t have a job. Louis really felt for them,
so he pulled a few strings to get her a job in the gift shop. That way
she can help her mum out while she finishes school.
“Slow day here too?” Louis looks about the small store briefly, only
noticing a family picking out flowers and an older man filtering
through assorted get well balloons.
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Louis has been here since six this morning for a quick outpatient
procedure, but once that he was over, Louis realized that he had a bit
of time to kill. A lot of time in fact, because when he checked the O.R.
board he was surprised to find that he has not one single surgery
scheduled for today. Which is odd because he’s usually overbooked or
jumping from one O.R. to the next, but not today. It’s a slow day and
Louis hates slow days. Everyone knows that nothing good ever
happens on a slow day. It’s basically asking for trouble.
“Yeah it’s been slow, but it’ll probably pick up by lunchtime.” Carrie
guesses, shrugging.
Louis nods, still leaning over the counter, not in any sort of rush. “I
see you’ve already started decorating for Christmas in here, even
though it’s barely November.”
“It’s a gift shop, we have to be festive, Dr. T. And it puts people in a

better mood while they’re here.” Carrie explains with a smile. “So to
what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you in here today?”
“I’m here to get my fix, you know that.” Louis laughs a bit as though
it’s obvious. “The gift shop has the best candy in the hospital, it’s just
a fact.”
“You say that every time, but I still don’t understand how that can be
true. What about the cafeteria?”
“It is true!” Louis defends, leaning in over the counter to whisper. “You
didn’t hear it from me, but the cafeteria is shit—just absolute shit. At
least in the candy department.”
The gift shop is the only place in the hospital where he can find not
only the Original Skittles but the Tropical flavored ones and the Mixed
Berry ones and the Sour ones and even the newer Brightside ones. And
sometimes Louis just likes a little variety in his Skittles options, break
the monotony and all that. Yes, they’re a little overpriced, as is
everything in the hospital, but he can pay for it with the quick scan of
his I.D. badge so it’s convenient and therefore worth it in Louis’ book.
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Carrie laughs at him, rolling her eyes.
“Honestly Carrie, I don’t know why on earth I put up with it.” Louis
sighs dramatically. “I should quit and work at a hospital that knows
what’s really important.”
“Candy?”
“Candy.” Louis smiles, always loving to tease. He rounds the register

towards the prized candy display on the side wall of the shop, singling
out the Skittles. A few years ago he discovered the art that is mixing
Skittles packets. One bag of Skittles is great and all, but two bags? Two
different flavors? Mixed together? A gift from god.
After a minute of deliberation, Louis decides to go for Sour and

Tropical today, snatching up a green and a blue Skittles packet.
“I thought doctors were supposed to be healthy…” Carrie teases as

she rings up both candies.
Louis tugs on his badge so she can scan it. “How would you feel if I
said that doctors only appear to be health conscientious, but in
actuality it’s all a façade and we actually have many, many unhealthy
vices.”
“I would probably feel lied to.” Carrie decides after a beat.
“Well…” Louis smiles knowingly, winking at her. “Until tomorrow,

Carrie. Or later today depending on how my day goes. You never know
when you need to taste the rainbow.”
Carrie laughs, shaking her head before waving him off. “Until next
time then.”
Louis leaves the gift shop and takes his sweet time walking through
the hospital to his floor, chatting with a few colleagues on his way. He
makes it to the surgical floor twenty minutes later, strolling over to the
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nurses’ station where Liam is tapping away on a tablet. Louis props his
arms up on the ledge as he tears open both packets of Skittles.
“Skittles?” Louis offers, leaning into Liam.
Liam glances towards him briefly. “Why do you have two different
ones open? Isn’t that a bit much?”
“Don’t ask me questions, Liam.” Louis sighs in irritation. “Just take a

few from each and let it change your life.”
“But I don’t like mixing things.” Liam scrunches his nose while
shaking his head.
“Liam, they’re meant to be mixed!” Louis insists; he’s extremely

passionate about this.
“No, they aren’t, otherwise they would have sold them premixed!”
Liam argues back. “You have such a weird habit of mixing things that
don’t belong together.”
“You’re no fun.” Louis frowns, taking both of the packets back

protectively like they’re his children. “No more Skittles for you.”
“I never wanted your mixed Skittles anyway.” Liam states, practically

turning his nose up. “It’s 9 A.M., did you even eat a real breakfast?”
“I had coffee and now I’m having Skittles.” Louis shrugs, popping a
few more in his mouth. “Breakfast.”
“That’s not breakfast, Lou.” Liam mothers in total disapproval.
“It’s my breakfast. I don’t tell you how to start your morning.”
Liam sighs, rolling his eyes and going back to his tablet. It’s a usual
way to kick off the morning, bickering with Liam, teasing Liam,
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bothering Liam. All vital components of one of Louis’ many pastimes,
because at the end of the day, he loves Liam.
Louis drops himself down in a neglected wheelchair, rocking himself

back and forth as he happily munches on his Sour and Tropical
Skittles.
“You look like a little kid.” Liam comments, glancing at Louis.
“Never let the kid in you die, Liam. Stay youthful.” Louis says,
unbothered and completely invested in his candy. “Speaking of which,
I was thinking and how about we play a game of hooky today?”
“Um...can you even do that?” Liam wonders, tapping away at the

screen in his hand, updating charts. “Don’t you have a department to
run as Head of Neuro? Or something like that?”
“Well Payno, it’s actually because of that nifty little title that I can.”
Louis pockets the rest of his candy and starts rolling the wheels
backwards, trying with focused concentration to pop a wheelie. “Being
in charge means I can do whatever I please, whenever I please.”
Dr. Carmichael had moved on to work at Mayo Clinic just after Louis
completed his Neurosurgery fellowship. She stuck around long
enough to groom him to take over her position as the head of the
department, treating him as her prized protégé. Louis considers her a
dear friend as well as a mentor and they still keep in touch and run new
ideas by each other.
“I don’t know how you get away with half of the shit you get away
with.” Liam comments. “I’m not even in charge of my department and
I’m always swamped.”
“Because I’m me and you’re you.” Louis grins cutely, spinning his
wheelchair right up to Liam.
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Liam turns to bend down and push Louis as hard as he can, propelling
the wheelchair all the way down the hallway.
“Damn you, Liaaam!” Louis shouts as he soars down the hall

unexpectedly.
He wheels himself back up the hallway to the nurses’ station, purposely

bumping right into Liam’s shins.
“Ow!” Liam complains, looking down at Louis in the wheelchair.

“How did you get back so fast, I pushed you really far!”
“I’ve got skills.” Louis smirks, with a mischievous grin. “Anyway Li,
think of it as taking a sick day. When’s the last time you took a day
off?”
“When’s the last time you took a day off?” Liam shoots back, knowing
fully well that Louis is basically the definition of a workaholic, hardly
ever leaving the hospital.
“I don’t know! That’s why you should play hooky with me!”
“Where is this even coming from? Don’t you have patients?” Liam
asks incredulously, sporting another frown.
Truthfully, Louis doesn’t know where exactly it’s coming from. But
frankly it doesn’t quite matter because it’s a brilliant idea.
“Well Payno, I’m such a good doctor that all of my patients have been
treated and are thriving.” Louis brags in a joking kind of way.
“And…it’s a slow day. I’ve tried to lend a hand in The Pit but there’s
no Neuro traumas and the O.R. board is completely clear—I literally
have nothing to do with myself! Come on Liam, just think of the fun
we could have with a hooky day!”
“Hooky? Mmm I totally would, bro. You know I would. But I can’t.”
Zayn grumbles, sounding a bit bitter as he walks up to the station,
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leaning himself over the counter. “I’ve got a skills lab to run or
whatever. Unless you wanna do it for me?”
“Oh? You? Really?” Louis scoffs with a belittling laugh, knowing fully
well that his friend has a serious aversion to teaching the residents.
“Giving back to the upcoming doctors of tomorrow and teaching?
Impossible. I don’t believe it.”
“Shut up.” Zayn shoves Louis lightly.
“I love teaching skills labs.” Liam pipes up cheerfully. “The interns

and residents are all so eager to learn, and we have so much to give
and teach them. And it helps us brush up on basic skills. It’s a beautiful
win-win, really.”
“That must be why all the kiss-ups request to be on your service.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, unamused. “I always wondered why anyone would
volunteer to be on Ortho when Plastics exists.”
“Our specialties go hand in hand you know?” Liam defends, sounding

offended.
“Yeah, yeah I know, but one is just far more refined and dignified.”
Zayn holds his head up indignantly.
Liam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Orthopedics.”
“Ha!” Zayn mocks, scoffing to himself. “As if.”
“Ok, you both can stop your useless argument right there. We all know
that Neuro is king of all surgical specialties. That is just a fact.” Louis
asserts, proudly defending his department as he continues to roll
around in the wheelchair. “Let’s not even pretend like this is even a
worthy debate.”
Liam and Zayn immediately both begin to protest over each other,
riddling off reasons why they each are so vital to medicine.
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“I’m sorry—remind me, what are you without a brain, again?” Louis
yells over their bickering, cupping his own hand over his ear tauntingly,
waiting for a response. “Oh! That’s right, nothing! A pretty face…”
He gestures to Zayn. “And functioning limbs…” He points another
hand to Liam “Are utterly useless without a brain so…”
“Ugh, whatever, fine.” Zayn shrugs begrudgingly, leaning back against

Liam. “I’m still better than Li, though.”
“Oh please.” Liam scoffs, but it has an air of flirtation in it.
“Are you guys…like…on?” Louis narrows his eyes between them

curiously. Over the years, Zayn and Liam have had an ongoing fling.
Louis can never keep up with when they’re on or off because it
changes like the wind. They bicker and argue incessantly; they’re
complete opposites, except that they’re not. Some days Liam looks at
Zayn like he would give up the world for him in an instant and then
sometimes Zayn smiles at Liam like he would drop everything at a
moments notice and move to the countryside and raise a chicken farm
with him. It’s weird and confusing, but Louis is sort of rooting for
them.
Liam and Zayn share a long look at each other and that’s really all
Louis needs as a confirmation.
“So that’s clearly a yes. When will you just give in and marry each other
already?” Louis jokes with an underlying tone of seriousness.
“We’re work husbands, not real husbands.” Zayn explains casually.
“What does that even mean?” Louis laughs outright.
“Zayn is my work husband. We work well together and we have a lot

of mutual cases together.” Liam explains easily, wrapping one arm
around around Zayn. “We’re happily work married. We can’t be
married married too. It’d be weird.”
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“So…you just fuck each other on the side then?” Louis questions,
eyeing them skeptically.
“Yeah exactly.” Zayn turns and plants a loud, obnoxious kiss to Liam’s
temple.
“I’ll pray for you both. That you find peace in your sad life.” Louis
smirks, biting back a teasing smile.
“Shut up, Tomlinson.” Zayn shoves Louis’ wheelchair lightly,

laughing.
“Zaaayn, be the rebel you are and skip work with me!” Louis begs
again, rolling right up to him.
“Bro, I just told you I would! You know I’m good for it.” Zayn
promises, sitting down on Louis’ lap. “But Aoki has been riding my
ass hard about teaching and shit, I guess I haven’t logged nearly
enough credible teaching hours and my student reviews ‘don’t speak
highly of my educational adequacy.’ Zayn quotes, tone dripping with
cynicism. “Whatever the fuck that means. A craft like mine can’t be
taught.”
“So...?” Louis frowns, looking up at him in question. “How exactly did

you learn then? If it can’t be taught?”
“Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have
greatness thrust upon them.” Zayn recites poetically. “I happen to be
all three.”
“Well certainly someone so great could offer some greatness to the

residents.” Chief Aoki comes up behind Zayn slowly, narrowing his
eyes.
“Oh hey Chiefy Chief.” Zayn slides off Louis’ lap to bump shoulders
with Steve, smiling playfully. “I was just talking about you.”
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“Yes, I heard all about how hard I’ve been riding your ass.” Steve
purses his lips.
“In a good way.” Zayn jokes with a smile, trying to smooth things over.
Messing around with Steve has become one of Zayn’s favorite work
day hobbies.
Steve was offered the position of Chief of Surgery after Chief Phillips
retired, and he differently isn’t like any of the chiefs that came before
him. Of course he has an authentic professional presence, but he still
loves to joke and tease. What’s fun about Steve is that he will entertain
the stupid ideas and outlandish antics or even wildly unprofessional
things said by his staff until he completely smites them down. Unless
he’s stressed out, then he doesn’t give a single fuck and he doesn’t
waste a second before shutting shit down.
“Get your pompous, high and mighty ass to the lab, Malik.” Chief
Aoki barks, the time for jokes long passed. “You’re already late, which
is a waste of hospital resources.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir. I won’t let you down, sir.” Zayn salutes
repeatedly with a stupid smirk plastered on his face.
“Malik.” Steve gives him a strong, narrowed eye look.
“Ok, ok, I’m going.” Zayn holds up his arms in defeat.
“Foster young minds, Oh Great One.” Louis whispers teasingly as Zayn

walks past, offering a mocking bow.
Zayn cackles good-naturedly, but still flips Louis off with both hands
as he strolls off down the hall.
“Tomlinson, get out of that wheelchair!” Steve snaps, laying into Louis
next. “You’re also wasting hospital resources!”
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“Oh lighten up, Steve…” Louis rolls his eyes, slinking out of the chair
and presenting it jokingly to The Chief. Louis knows the mischievous
side of Steve’s personality would love to let loose and go racing down
the halls in a little wheelchair race. They’ve done it before actually,
during a slow 3 A.M. shift in The Pit together, just trying to keep each
other awake. “Wanna take it out for a spin?”
“No, I don’t want to take a wheelchair out for a spin!” Steve

admonishes. “I have a job to do, and so do you two.”
Louis and Liam snicker amongst themselves, leaning against the wall.
“Well…” Steve looks to Liam and Louis pointedly, eyebrows raised in

confusion. “What are you two just standing around for? Save lives! Be
of some use! What is wrong with you attendings! Don’t you both have
work to do? Let’s move!” The Chief claps his hands together and Liam
and Louis scramble down the halls instantly.
“Yikes.” Louis blows out, once they are a safe distance away. “What
crawled up Steve’s asshole and died today?”
“I know, right?” Liam agrees, looking over his shoulder in caution.

“He’s so testy and moody this morning. It must be time for quarterly
reports. He keeps talking about ‘hospital resources’.”
“Oh right, right.” Louis nods in understanding, knowing perfectly well

how stressed Steve gets when it’s time to present the hospital revenue
reports to The Board every quarter. “Should we…maybe? Offer to
help? Or something?” He offers sheepishly.
Liam raises an eyebrow. “And get our heads chewed off?”
Louis and Liam pause their strides, turning their heads towards each
other to share a knowing look. “Pass.” They say simultaneously in
agreement, with a decisive head nod.
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Chief Aoki likes things done a certain way and even though they would
only be trying to help, they’ve all learned from experience that such a
novel idea only serves to cause more damage than good. It’s best to
just keep their heads down and ride it out until the reports have been
filed and Steve is back to his jovial lighthearted self.
“So anyway…is that a definite no to my proposition or...?” Louis starts

up again. “Because I’m really feeling like? I dunno? Going
paintballing?”
“Paintballing?” Liam questions, frowning at the idea.
“Go kart racing?” Louis tries instead, raising an eyebrow curiously.
Liam shakes his head. “No.”
“Shopping?” Louis tests.
“Nope.” Liam denies again, popping the “p”.
“We could take a ride around the pier on a ferry boat? That’s always
fun.”
“No.”
“Alright, how about golfing?” Louis suggests hopefully.
Liam frowns at him again. “Since when do you golf?”
“I’m open to learning Liam, let me live.” Louis sighs in frustration.
“My answer is still no.” Liam maintains, face flat.
“Ugh whyyy!” Louis groans, throwing his head back. “I will even settle
for just going to see a fucking movie, if it gets me out of here.”
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“Nooo.” Liam drags out, head shaking.
“Why must you be so boring, Li?” Louis grumbles, pouting at Liam

and crossing his arms over his chest.
“I just don’t get why you want to play hooky so badly.”
“I dunno, I just…I feel uneasy and anxious.” Louis admits. He’s been
feeling like this since he woke up this morning, like a weird ominous
cloud hovering over him and he’s just waiting for the enviable storm
to come. “Slow days aren’t good, you know? It’s bad juju.”
“Slow days are just slow days.” Liam shrugs indifferently. “It doesn’t
mean the world is ending.”
“That’s exactly what everyone says before the world ends.” Louis
argues with another sigh.
“You’re being dramatic—”
“Niall!” Louis interrupts Liam, excitedly calling his other friend once
he spots him rounding the hall. “I bet Niall will go with me, like
a real friend.”
“Go with you?” Niall frowns, overhearing the conversation as he walks

up to them. “Go where?”
“Yeah, I wanna play hooky, you in?”
“Ohh I’d love to, but I can’t.” Niall answers regretfully. “I’ve actually
been looking everywhere for you.”
“And now you’ve found me.” Louis smiles, casually draping his arm
over Niall’s shoulder.
“You got a sec? I need a consult.”

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“Ummm.” Louis ponders, continually aware that his schedule is
completely vacant for the day. “I think I can spare a moment. Anything
for you, Niall, my only real friend.” He emphasizes pointedly, side-
eying Liam.
“He didn’t even say yes!” Liam sulks. “He turned you down too
because, like me, he has a job!”
“Nonsense. Niall would go with me if it wasn’t for the consult he

needs. I know his heart is in the right place.” Louis defends, hugging
Niall a bit closer. “Isn’t that right, Ni?”
“I would absolutely play hooky with you, Lou.” Niall confirms,

knocking his hip against Louis’ lightly. “But yeah…about that consult,
it is important, so if we could just…”
“Right of course, Dr. Horan. Lead the way.” Louis adopts a serious
face teasingly.
“Aww, how lucky am I, that The Dr. Louis Tomlinson has the time to
give me, a humble Peds surgeon, a consult.” Niall smiles fondly at
Louis.
“Oh shut up.” Louis swats him lightly. “I come to you for consults all
the time.”
The four of them all did well in their residency class, choosing different
surgical specialties and landing fellowships all over the country. But
even-still none of them wanted to leave Seattle. The only one who
seriously entertained the idea of moving to New York was Zayn,
claiming that it was far better suited for Plastic Surgery. But in the end,
somehow Liam convinced him to stay—Louis doesn’t know exactly
how Liam did it, but if he really had to, he could probably guess.
Liam looks down at his beeping pager. “Hey I’ll catch you guys later.”
He starts to head down the hall, but then seems to remember
something. “Oh wait—are we still on for drinks tonight?”
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“Oh, it’s lad’s night!” Louis enthuses. Ever since they were interns, the
four of them started making a conscious effort to meet up officially at
least twice a month outside the hospital. It’s a time for them to unwind
and catch up on each other’s lives, after all it gets so busy around the
hospital it’s hard to really stay in touch even if they see each other
around every day. As it became a regular thing for them, Louis started
referring to it as lad’s night and it stuck. “I totally forgot that was
tonight. Well, you already know I’m free today, so I’m down.”
“Niall, what about you?” Liam asks.
“I’ve got a bowel resection scheduled tonight, but it’ll be quick.” Niall
answers. “I’ll meet up with you guys?”
“Sounds great.” Liam smiles, already on the move again. “See ya,
boys.”
Louis turns his attention back to Niall. “Alright Niall, tell about your
patient.”
Niall nods as they start down a different corridor. “Ok, so one of the
new interns checked in a pediatric patient complaining of constant
headaches and fatigue. I mean, it’s flu season and everything, but it’s
apparently been a reoccurring thing so my intern ordered scans.”
“Mmm.” Louis hums as he pulls the rest of his Skittles out of his lab
coat, snacking on them as he follows Niall into the imaging room.
“And how old is the patient?”
“She’s only eight.” Niall says, logging into the main computer to
display the multiple brain scans on the different screens around the
room.
“Oh…look at that.” Louis awes, tilting his head as he walks over to

the first screen to examine the MRI scans. “It’s an astrocytoma—
well…a juvenile pilocytic astrocytoma, specifically.”
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“How do you know for sure?” Niall wonders, glancing at Louis
curiously.
Louis points to the screen, tracing along the image. “See how the
borders of the tumor are pretty well defined? It’s not fuzzy or
stretching out like some other tumors would be.”
“Oh, you’re right.” Niall nods, arms crossed over his chest as he
considers.
“Definitely explains the headaches, poor thing.” Louis frowns,

glancing at Niall. “Did the intern say that the patient was suffering
from any deficits? Slurred speech? Loss of vision? Anything like that?”
“No, nothing yet. Just dizzy spells.”
“Hmm, so it can’t be too high of a grade yet, that’s good.” Louis notes,
nodding his head. “Well, you’re definitely going to need me. I guess
I’m not so free after all.”
“You can treat her?” Niall asks.
“Yeah, definitely.” Louis confirms, looking back at the scans again.

“It’s in a bit of a risky area, almost hitting her optic nerve pathways,
but I’m confident that I can get clean margins on it. But she will
definitely need a follow up of chemo to be safe. These tumors are
aggressive and sophisticated.”
“Tell me about it.” Niall sighs in exhaustion. “I was hoping it was

nothing too serious, but I guess we should go inform the family.”
Louis sighs as well, nodding along slowly. “I hate when it’s a little kid,
you know? I don’t know how you work with dying kids all day.”
Niall hangs his head, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know
some days. It’s certainly not easy, but someone has got to do it and
nothing feels better than when you can save them.”
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“Yeah…”
They leave the imaging room and walk stride for stride through the
halls of the hospital.
“Oh wait—where is my intern?” Niall realizes suddenly, looking

around. “God, these interns, I tell ya. Never where they are supposed
to be—I’m trying to be a good teacher, but how can I when my student
is always MIA?”
“That is truly the money making question.” Louis shrugs with an

understanding smile.
“I’ll be right back.” Niall sighs again, setting off to find his lost pupil,
which is nice of him. Many attendings wouldn’t be bothered with
tracking down some intern, instead adopting more of a ‘you snooze,
you lose’ mentality. “You can go in, if you want. I don’t think the
parents are back yet.”
“Yeah sure, no problem.” Louis nods easily, walking up to the patient’s

room at the corner. “Hello there.” He waves cheerfully from under the
doorway. There’s no one in the room besides a little girl perched on
the bed with her legs swinging back and forth off the side.
“Hiii!”
Louis can’t help but smile at the girl’s infectious enthusiasm, grinning
wide with a missing front tooth. She’s a bit small for eight-years-old,
but she’s absolutely precious. “And what’s your name?”
“Avery!” She announces proudly, still kicking her feet around. “But
my Daddy calls me, Avie. And then sometimes he calls me Aviebug,
like ladybug—but me! I looove lady bugs.”
“They are quite cute aren’t they.” Louis agrees with a little laugh, sitting
down on the edge of the bed next to her. She’s quite talkative and
friendly. “Well it’s very, very nice to meet you, Avery. I’m Dr.
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Tomlinson.” He falters a little at the sound of the name leaving his
lips, catching himself off guard. “I uh…knew a little Avery once…”
“Really? Was your Avery a girl?” Avery wonders curiously, sitting up a

little bit in her bed. “Because kids at school tease me sometimes
because my name sounds like a boy’s name. And it doesn’t help that
my middle name is Elliot.”
avery elliot
Louis completely blanks, face paling rapidly as he gazes down at the

little girl before him, really looking at her, zoning in on the details he
so easily overlooked at first glance. Beautiful chestnut brown hair
falling in long waves, a tiny birthmark to the left of her warm hazel
brown eyes, the sweetest little dimples and a wide crooked smile that
could break any heart it wanted.
Louis can feel his heart pounding in his chest, beating so loud, he’s
sure the whole hospital must hear it.
“I guess I could go by Avie Ellie, maybe? I don’t know?” Avery

ponders to herself. “But I think Avery Elliot is unique though, don’t
you? And my Daddy says that my mother named me special.” She
continues, lowering her head. “But I never got to meet her…”
“Avie, baby, they didn’t have green jello, so I brought you the red one.
But I think that a general rule of jello is that red is the best, anyway.”
Time is simultaneously moving in slow motion and plunging into

hyperspeed as Louis spins around at the strangely familiar sound of
the deep voice. He opens his mouth to speak, to shout, to scream, to
declare the rare sighting of a ghost, but all the words get caught in his
throat as he openly gazes at the man walking into the patient room.
They stare at each other for a moment—a long, complicated moment.

A million and one things buzz in the tight air between them, as a
vacuum seems to suck all the breathable oxygen from the room. Eight
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years has apparently done not a damn thing to Louis’ memory because
in one moment he somehow manages to feel the emotional weight of
an entire lifetime fall upon his shoulders.
“Louis…” Harry breathes finally—hardly. Louis probably wouldn’t

even have heard the quiet uttering of his own name if it weren’t for
the fact that he has been so haunted by the sound of that voice, he
could recognize it anywhere.
Louis rips his eyes away from Harry, twisting back around towards the
small little girl he just met moments ago. A girl he knows; a girl
he knew.
His eyes are wide with disbelief and his jaw has fallen helplessly slack
as all the wind is knocked from his lungs. “Oh my god…” Louis
breathes out in hopelessly pained realization, hand instinctually
covering his gapping mouth. “Aves…”
No longer a small baby, no longer immortalized and locked up in a

tiny safe box in Louis’ head, carefully kept out of sight, purposely
pushed out of mind. He gazes at her in absolute wonderment, almost
disbelieving that she’s real and sitting right in front of him. And she is
absolutely gorgeous in every way, just as he always knew she would be.
So much like that fragile baby he once coddled in his arms, but also so
very different.
Avery watches him curiously with a tilted head, confusion obviously

painted over her beautiful features as her brow furrows slightly. She
has no idea who he is, and why should she? Louis wasn’t given the
chance to be apart of her life.
“Uh…um…I h-have—I have to g-go...” Louis excuses himself in a

mumbled rush, standing to his shaky feet and hightailing it out of the
patient room, refusing to make any further eye contact.
Louis’ heart is on par with the beats per minute of a marathon runner,
pounding incessantly within his rib cage. He can’t possibly get out of
the room fast enough, half stumbling over himself as he flees down
the corridor in sightless haste.
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He’s pictured this moment so many times, he could go blind with it.
Replayed the scenario in his head, over and over and over again, until
he could almost trick himself into believing it was real. He and Harry
reuniting at last, gushing, apologizing, promising to never be apart
again, on and on it goes, but never did Louis picture them back here.
Back again in this hospital under the same heavy weight.
The weight of cancer.
There is no earthly way to explain it or come to terms with it and Louis

doesn’t even begin to know how to deal with it, but the impeding
emotions are powering over his body. Avery is not Louis’ daughter.
He knows that, he knows. But he cared about that little girl in there,
he loved her. He dare say he may have bonded to her in a way he never
fully admitted to himself. Seeing her grown up, utterly gorgeous and
outspoken with a bright and bubbly personality, a mini version of her
mother. It’s so much, so much he wasn’t expecting as he unknowingly
walked into that room.
And now she’s sick. Avery is sick. He has to tell Harry she’s sick—
Fuck.
And Harry, god. Harry.
Louis only had but a stolen glimpse of him, but from what Louis did
see he is just as breathtaking as before. In that one parting moment,
Louis felt more than he’s felt in years. Such a horrifyingly visceral
reaction to the sound of his deep voice, to the look of his shocked
face, to just being in the same room as him again, breathing the same
air.
He’s a stranger, yet his silhouette is so frighteningly familiar, so much

appears the same about him but there is so much that is still but a
mystery. A mystery presenting itself in Louis’ roaring mind as a series
of age old questions. What is he doing back in Seattle? Or did he never
leave? Have they been only miles from each other the whole time—
no, Louis would have known. He would have known.
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Louis tried calling Harry over and over and over again when he left,
sending text after unanswered text, leaving countless messages during
his breaks until the number was inevitably disconnected. Louis
searched high and low for any signs of Harry for months, and to be
honest he probably would still be looking for them right now if it
wasn’t for the voicemail he received from a private number six months
after Harry left.
Louis had been in surgery, so he missed the call and he wishes every
day that he didn’t because having that voicemail in his inbox was so
much worse. The voice on the other end of the line was shaky—
distant, like he didn’t quite know what he wanted to say. His speech
was horribly choppy, tearful even and Louis can’t ever get the sound
of Harry’s weak voice out of his head.
“Louis…Lou—it’s me...I uh…well, I just wanted to um—I got your messages.

I…I’m fine, ok. I’m ok—we’re ok…you don’t have to look out for me
anymore…you don’t have to ca—I’m ok…Avery is good, I’m taking care of
her…we’re fine. I um…I hope you’re—I hope everything is better for you…tell
Benedict hi from me and um—I…Louis…I just I…fuck—I gotta
go…goodbye…”
Louis listened to that one recording of Harry’s voice nonstop, trying

to make sense of it, to find some semblance of understanding from his
quiet scattered words. Because even though he said the word four
times in a minute and thirty-nine seconds, Harry didn’t sound ok. And
all Louis wanted to do was call him back, find him and bring him
home. But as time went on, Louis started to think maybe he was only
hearing what he wanted to hear, maybe he was reading too much into
it, maybe he kept thinking Harry wasn’t ok because Louis desperately
wanted Harry to still need him, to come back to him.
It’s funny how the more times you listen to something, the more you
can twist it into meaning whatever the hell you want. Sometimes Louis
could hear only sadness in it, a deep longing and desperation in the
heavy pauses of the recording. Other days it sounded like Harry was
mocking him and he could only hear cruel taunting in his voice. Others
180
still, Louis heard anger and bitterness, resentment laced around the
sounds on the other end of the phone.
It only got worse and worse as time went on. Eventually it got so bad
that Niall had to take Louis’ phone away and delete the damned
recording for Louis’ own good. But even though it was physically
gone, the echo of it still replayed over and over in Louis’ head whether
he wanted it to or not. His very last connection to Harry. To Avery.
Haunting him.
And it wasn’t the only thing haunting him. The room—Avery’s room,
her nursery. The place where Louis fell in love with her dimpled smile
and felt his heart burst at the sound of her little giggles, the last place
he ever held her in his arms. It’s still in Louis’ house completely
untouched. He hasn’t gone so far as to even jiggle the door handle for
fear of what lies beyond the door. Louis can’t bear to see all the things
she left behind on that horrid day, still in their place, still waiting for
her to come back.
And now she’s sick. His beautiful, little Avery is sick.
Louis is not at all watching where he is going when he bumps right

into Niall, walking along with an intern at his side.
“Oh hey, I found my intern, I was just on my way back.” Niall says,
before he takes in Louis’ panicked expression. “Hey, Lou…what’s
going on? Where are you going?”
Louis can’t focus. Not on Niall’s face, not on whatever is going on

around him, not even on keeping his body upright. He feels faint. He
feels hazy. Like he’s just moved into an alternate plane of existence
where somehow this shit is happening. Except it’s supposedly real.
Niall flicks his gaze to the intern fidgeting beside him, her hands
stuffed deep in her pockets. “Wesley, go inform the patient’s family
that we will be in to speak with them in a moment.”
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“Uh…” Dr. Wesley just looks at Niall blankly with wide uncertain
eyes, like she isn’t sure what she’s meant to do.
“Don’t just stand there, Wesley! Go!” Niall commands in agitation,

pointing towards the intended direction.
“Interns.” Niall rolls his eyes, head shaking disapprovingly as she

scrambles off towards the unit. “More like skittish little children who
need to have their hand held at every turn. Were we really that bad?”
Louis offers no response, similarly challenging the response of an

intern himself, giving Niall the same blank gaze Dr. Wesley had
moments ago.
“Louis?” Niall rests a hand on his shoulder, looking at him closely.

“Lou, are you ok? You look pale.”
Louis’ breathing grows ragged, blind panic and a new wave realization
setting in. The realization that this isn’t a dream, he won’t wake up and
he can’t escape. This is real.
Not even an hour ago, Louis was happily mixing Skittles together and
plotting to skip out on his medical duties for the day and have a nice,
carefree time, far away from here and now…
Now he can barely breathe. Barely function. The weight of the entire
world crashing down on his shoulders again and again and again.
“Not here.” Niall registers the makings of an oncoming panic attack

and quickly braces Louis’ upper arm, goading him into the nearest
supply closet.
It’s never comforting for a patient or even fellow staff to witness a

doctor completely lose their shit. They are viewed as heroes, saviors to
some. They aren’t supposed to break down, they aren’t supposed to
display weakness. Not out in the open anyway.
182
Louis opens his mouth and his tongue tastes like chalk, dry and
soundless. “S-She’s…sh—fuck…”
“What?” Niall questions, expression etched with worry as he rubs

Louis’ back. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh my god…she’s sick…” Louis shakes his head wildly, feeling

suddenly even more lightheaded and impossibly faint. It feels similar
to reliving a cruel nightmare, unable to wake up and open his eyes.
“Niall, she’s s-sick…”
Niall frowns, not making the connection. “The patient?”
“Avery.” Louis rasps, bracing the wall for support and he nearly
doubles over weakly. “My Avery. S-She’s—the patient is my Avery.”
“What?” Niall gasps, looking around in shock and disbelief. He looks
down at the tablet in his hand, pulling up his patient’s medical records.
“No? You mean—that’s her in there? I didn’t…I didn’t even realize. I
never saw the last name, Wesley handled checking her in. Fuck—is
Harry here too?”
Louis nods, wobbling back and forth as he drops his hands to his
knees. He hunches over himself and tries to heave in some kind of
oxygen. “I didn’t talk to him…I…I mean I c-couldn’t I…”
“Oh Louis.” Niall holds out a hand to steady him, but soon forgoes
steadying Louis and decides just to full on embrace his shaky body,
pulling Louis into his arms.
Niall knows exactly what kind of hellfire Louis went through, he was
there. He witnessed the aftermath of Harry leaving and held Louis
together, they all did—Liam, Zayn and Niall.
Everyone has that patient that changed them, the person that altered
not only how they see medicine, but how they see themselves. And for
Louis, that patient was Gemma.
183
And he cared so much for her that he allowed it to bleed heavily into
his life, he got invested. Far more invested than he ever should have
and it’s not only Gemma that haunts him, it’s Harry and it’s Avery and
everything they ever were to him, everything Louis thought they
always would be.
It broke him. Harry leaving broke him. And Louis has spent all theses
years just trying to keep himself together, just trying to keep his mind
busy and his body active enough to not spend every waking hour
thinking of them. Considering it a victory when he can go whole days
without his mind finding a reason to wander right back to them.
“I can’t tell him, I can’t tell him…I can’t do this.” Louis repeats,
shaking his head wildly as he anxiously breaks out of Niall’s hold on
him. “It’s just like—like…Gemma…”
“No. Louis no.” Niall refutes, hands on both his shoulders. “It’s not
nearly as advanced as that.”
Louis is still furiously tossing his head side to side, eyes wide and
panicked. Gemma died from an eerily similar cancer and now Louis is
diagnosing her daughter.
“Listen to me, Louis.” Niall forces Louis to meet his eyes, waiting until
Louis actually finds the will to focus on them. “This is not the same
case. It’s not. Gemma died from a different type of tumor—an
inoperable tumor. You just saw Avery’s scans and you weren’t nervous
at all. You told me, without a doubt in your mind, that you could take
her tumor out. Nothing has changed. You can do this, you’re one of
the best up and coming neurosurgeons in the country.”
Louis nods slowly, breathing heavily. He knows Niall is right, Louis is

exceptionally good at what he does. That’s how he was able to land
Department Head at such a young age in his career, it’s nearly unheard
of in neurosurgery with the level of complexity and intellect it requires,
but Louis somehow beat all the odds.
184
It’s how he came to cope with the severed loss of huge pieces of his
heart. After he eventually picked himself up and haphazardly stitched
himself back together, Louis threw what was left of himself into his
work, hoping it could possibly make him whole again.
He worked, day in and day out, pushing himself to be the best,

snagging the honor of Chief Resident as as senior resident and easily
securing a Neuro fellowship under Dr. Carmichael’s tutelage. He’s
churned out more publications than any of his fellow classmates,
heading clinical trial after trial to keep himself active. With no one to
go home to, Louis made the O.R. his home—his life.
So considering all he has accomplished in his career thus far, Louis

isn’t questioning his own capabilities as a surgeon. He isn’t questioning
his diagnosis or the methodology he’ll need to be successful in treating
her. He’s questioning whether or not he can walk out of this supply
closet and into a patient’s room knowing that the last time they were
apart of his life he almost didn’t survive losing them. Louis can’t risk
the emotional strain on his own heart, not after everything he has
managed to sustain.
Fuck, and Louis can only imagine how Harry will react to all this. He
doesn’t know where Harry is in life, or what has happened to him since
that fated day eight years ago, but if Louis knows anything, he knows
that news like this will absolutely destroy Harry. It won’t matter that
Avery is completely treatable, it won’t matter how much Louis or Niall
or any other doctor tries to reassure him. The parallel back to his
sister’s case and the uncertainty and emotion that lies with it, will
almost certainly overcome him.
Louis doesn’t know if he’s ready to live through this again and he is in
no way prepared to face any of this today.
“She’s a pediatric patient, so I’ll do most of the talking…but it’s a

neuro case, Louis. You have to be there.” Niall tells him, arms on
Louis’ shoulders. “It’s your diagnosis.”
“I can send someone else from my department. Or maybe—”

185
“They already saw you, Louis. You’ll only make it worse. And you
know good and well you won’t be able to leave this alone.” Niall
continues and Louis knows he’s right, there’s no way he could ignore
this case now. It’d eat him alive moment by moment. “If you want to
give her a real chance at coming out of this, it has to be you. Find a
way to pull yourself together, Louis. Don’t overthink it. You can do
this.”
Louis closes his eyes momentarily and just inhales deeply several times,
trying to forget, trying to sever the connection he still feels strumming
in his veins, trying to distance himself as far as he can from the pain
of the past.
It’s useless.
He’ll never be ready for this, but it’s happening anyway so Louis forces
his heavy feet to follow Niall back to that same looming room.
They’ve all met each other before and there is an understated

acknowledgement of that the second they’re all standing in the room.
The air is thick and heavy around them, like a noose tightening around
Louis’ neck, robbing him of his right to breathe freely.
“Mr. Styles, hello, I’m Dr. Horan, Pediatrics.” Niall introduces himself
properly as though they are utter strangers, unattached and
unbeknownst to the obvious weight of the past. He shakes Harry’s
hand firmly, before gesturing to his side. “And this is Dr. Tomlinson,
Neuro.”
Louis wants, with everything inside him, to avoid eye contact, but he
knows that’s poor etiquette and dreadfully impolite. So instead he
offers his hand for a shake, glancing at Harry as briefly as possible to
minimize the blow that his luring green eyes will inevitably have on his
system. Louis knows he can’t completely play it off as if he doesn’t at
all remember Harry, from the way he ran out of the room moments
ago that cover is long past blown. But he can’t stand here and address
him as the long lost love of his life either so he decides to follow Niall’s
example and stick with formal. “Mr. Styles.”
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“Dr. Tomlinson.” Harry reciprocates, taking Louis’ proffered hand
and giving it a quick squeeze. Louis reels his hand back almost
instantaneously and stuffs both of them in his lab coat, blatantly
averting his eyes from Harry’s. Louis doesn’t need to accidentally catch
something in Harry’s gaze, he doesn’t want to end up trapped within
that alluring prism of gold flecks he knows line Harry’s irises. Hearing
his own name said by Harry twice within the span of an hour is already
physically unnerving enough as it is.
don’t make this awkward.
Niall clears his throat in an attempt to disperse some of the palpable

tension, moving to stand near Avery’s bed. He bends down a bit to
her eye level. “Um…hey Avery, do you like ice cream?”
“Well, of course, I do. Who doesn’t like ice cream?” Avery counters
back with a grin.
“Exactly.” Niall laughs lightly. “Well on Mondays the children’s

cafeteria turns into an ice cream bar.”
“Really?” Avery’s eyes grow wide as she gasps a little.
“Yep!” Niall enthuses animatedly, nodding his head. “So how would
you like to go for ice cream, while us boring doctors talk with your dad
for a little bit?”
“May I, Daddy?” Avery asks, looking up at Harry for approval.
“Course, Aviebug.” Harry nods with a smile, giving her a thumbs up.
“Have fun!”
“Dr. Wesley, will you please take little miss Avery downstairs for ice
cream? Make sure they give her extra, extra sprinkles. Doctor’s
orders.” Niall winks at her, giving Avery a high five.
187
Thank god for Niall and his easy going nature. Louis has somehow
forgotten how to speak, let alone practice medicine or maintain proper
bedside manner.
“Yes, Dr. Horan, right away.” Dr. Wesley extends her hand out to
Avery. “Come on, Avery.”
“Mr. Styles, if you could just follow us to an available conference

room.” Niall stands back up to his feet to address Harry again.
Harry’s eyes already look worried, his brow pulled into a tight frown,
but he nods and begins to follow them out of the room.
“Hi, sorry...I’m here!” A man comes barreling down the hall in a hurry.
He’s handsome—in a very textbook sort of way, dressed in a suit and
tie with his deep brown hair styled back away from his face. He’s not
as tall as he looks like he would be, maybe only an inch taller than
Louis and when he instinctually leans in to peck Harry’s lips, Louis
feels dumb for not anticipating this sooner. “The traffic was relentless.
I’m sorry, babe. I’m here. I hope I’m not too late.”
“You’re just in time.” Harry kisses him back, smiling with what appears
to be relief.
Louis stares at the interaction, fingers clicking the pen in his lower coat
pocket incessantly as he fights to keep his face utterly neutral.
“Oh, hello, sorry—I’m Jesse.” He warmly offers his free hand towards
Louis in greeting, but Louis can only blink at it, finding himself unable
to command his body to movement. He keeps both of his hands
buried deep in his lab coat, fingers still clamped around that pen.
Niall swoops in, like only a best friend can, smoothly taking Jesse’s
hand as if it were originally offered to him. Jesse doesn’t seem to think
anything of it, smiling politely at Niall as he firmly grasps his hand. But
just because Jesse didn’t notice, doesn’t mean Harry didn’t and Louis
can feel his eyes on him, watching carefully from a distance.
188
“We’re Avery’s doctors. I’m Dr. Horan and this is Dr. Tomlinson.”
Niall introduces on Louis’ behalf once again, gesturing towards him at
his side as he speaks to Jesse. “We were just about to discuss Avery’s
case with your…erm…”
“Fiancé.” Jesse finishes, arm moving to wrap protectively around

Harry’s waist.
“Right.” Louis nods curtly to himself, lips set in a line, refusing to show
any perceivable emotion as his finger still rapidly clicks away at the
concealed pen in his pocket. Of course Harry is engaged, of fucking
course. It’s been eight years, it’d be weird if he wasn’t engaged or
married or some other shit. And you know what, Louis is happy for
him. He wishes them nothing, but happiness—at least that’s what he’s
going to keep telling himself as he eyes the man attached to Harry’s
side.
“Please follow us to the conference room.” Niall says next, gesturing

towards the right direction. “Right this way.”
Niall dutifully leads them into the first available room, holding the
door open. They settle down at the empty table, Harry and Jesse on
one side while Niall and Louis sit across from them, charting tablets in
hand.
“Is it serious because, Dr. Wesley—I think that’s her name, said that
it was probably all fine.” Harry explains lightly as they all settle down
in their chairs around the table. “But she just wanted to do a few scans
and tests to be sure.”
Interns. Louis groans internally. The current bane of his existence. He

makes a mental note to instruct all the interns about patient interaction
etiquette. Never ever give a patient or a patient's family false
hope. That’s a fundamental rule. As doctors they can’t guarantee life
or miraculously spare people from falling ill or even dying. They can
only work to the best of their human ability, which is sometimes
enough, but oftentimes not.
189
“Yes—well that’s what we need to discuss.” Niall informs, pulling up
Avery’s chart and lab work on his tablet.
Harry’s gaze gradually turns cloudy, anxiousness quickly taunting the

usual clarity of his green eyes. “Is there…something wrong? There
isn’t, right? She’s fine...”
This is the part. This is what Louis never wants to relive. He

remembers exactly what Gemma’s illness did to Harry, Louis
remembers in vivid detail all the nights Harry cried and grieved for her.
Louis may have oceans of hurt towards Harry, but even still he wishes
he could just tell him beautiful lies. Find a way to shield him from this
new wave of heartbreak that’s set to reign over his body. Louis wants
to lie as if his whole life depended on it, cover Harry’s eyes and pretend
it's all ok.
Louis sits at the conference table and all he can manage to think about
is how this wouldn’t be happening if he had left, if he had finally taken
a fucking day off and played hooky. Slow days are never a good sign,
slow days always mean the end of the world.
Niall looks down before clearing his throat, shifting his gaze to Louis,
urging him to present his diagnosis.
Louis empties his own throat, even though it’s as dry as dust. He
crosses his hands on the table surface in front of him, clamping then
together tightly to keep them from shaking. With much determination,
he forces himself to look up and meet Harry’s eyes as he talks, willing
his voice to remain even and professional. “The MRI we ordered for
your daughter showed a mass in her brain. I identified the mass as a
grade one astrocytoma. It’s a type of glioma or a tumor that’s quite
common in children and—”
“A tumor—like…cancer? Avery has brain cancer?” Jesse clarifies in

disbelief, leaning in towards Harry and grabbing hold of his hand.
190
“Yes.” Louis confirms regretfully, feeling like he just cocked a loaded
gun and fired it straight through Harry’s heart.
Harry’s lips part fractionally, just a slight flicker of hesitation before all
the color drains from his face. “She…she just had headaches? She was
f-fine…It was—it’s a headache…a h-headache…” His hand is locked
around his fiancé’s so tightly that his knuckles are white with strain,
entire body riddled with tension. Harry looks absolutely stunned, gaze
unfocused as his brain tries so desperately to comprehend the
situation.
Louis has seen this face before. He has seen this exact expression, the
ramifications of it burned forever into his memory. Escalating
emotions of devastation are flashing across Harry’s eyes, one after the
next like a deteriorating slide show.
denial. anger. doubt. fear. guilt. sadness. worry.
Niall nods empathetically, trying his best to offer an explanation.

“Often headaches, nausea and lightheadedness present as—”
“No…” Harry breathes out in a pained whisper, eyes fluttering closed.

He starts to shake his head slowly in disbelief, gradually shaking faster
and faster as he pushes back in his chair. “No. No. I can’t…I can’t do
this again. No.”
With that, Harry frantically scrambles to his feet, hoping out of his
chair, rushing towards the door to escape.
“Har—” Louis stops himself from speaking, almost reaching out to

try to console him, legs almost standing to go after him, finding long
forgotten habits still engraved like muscle memories in his system. But
instead, he snaps his mouth closed and keeps his arms to himself,
forcing himself to bite his tongue. It’s not his place. Even if he wanted
it to be, it’s not and Louis is made completely aware of that as Jesse
swiftly gets up to go after his fiancé.
191
“Babe.” Jesse calls softly, following Harry out of the conference room
door. He catches up with Harry a few paces from the doorway,
immediately closing him into his arms. Harry folds like a paper doll
against Jesse, sobbing into his shirt.
Louis watches on through the glass window of the room, volts of

anxious energy racking his body. He can’t sit still, knee bouncing
uncontrollably under the table as he bites his bottom lip, uneasily
ticking and tacking the tip of his ballpoint pen against the wood of
table top.
Jesse’s back is facing the window and Harry is completely crumbled in

his arms, face nuzzled into his neck. Louis doesn’t want to see this, but
he can’t seem to tear his gaze away, watching on as Jesse continues to
comfort and soothe Harry, whispering in his ear and tracing patterns
along his back. Jesse holds Harry’s face in his hands, telling him
something that seems to calm Harry down, before tenderly kissing the
corner of Harry’s mouth.
“Hey, are you doing ok?” Niall leans over towards Louis, resting his
palm down on his shoulder.
Louis snaps back, turning his attention away from the couple. He
registers Niall’s question, but isn’t sure of the answer. If by ok he
means that Louis is still physically breathing and functioning as a
human at a multicellular level, then yeah, sure he’s ok. But if Niall is
asking if Louis is ok—ok with the situation, ok with the twisted turn
of events, ok with seeing Harry again after eight long years of
swallowed separation, only to sit in front of him and his fiancé and tell
him that he has to cut his daughter’s brain open. Then no, Louis is
probably not ok.
Not even slightly.
||✚||
Harry wasn’t even supposed to be here.

192
He never planned on walking into this hospital ever again. Not
willingly, not with all the memories laden in the very walls, memories
he refuses to acknowledge or be reminded of in any way, shape, or
form. A week ago—even a day ago, wild horses couldn’t drag Harry
back into this place. Nothing could, nothing would, but somehow
something did.
Harry never planned on seeing him again, never expected to ever see
him again. His gaze is still just as hypnotic as it always was. Like a time
machine transporting him back to a time long ago. Under that strong
blue gaze, Harry is twenty-four years old again. He’s twenty-four and
the boy whose house he is living in is as sweet and lovely as can be.
He’s twenty-four and he’s in the worst place of his life, lost beyond
belief, scared to the point of surrender, hopelessly confused about a
beautifully kind boy with eyes like the calming sea. Except Harry isn’t
twenty-four anymore and that funny, rambling boy that Harry fondly
came to know is a man now, not only a man, but an established
neurosurgeon handing him the worst news he could possibly get in his
life.
Harry wasn’t supposed to be here.
But somehow an odd series of events led him to this exact moment, a
moment he could have never anticipated would come.
He was getting ready for work as usual, he’d only recently moved back
to Seattle for his job and he has a huge client to meet with this week
so he was trying not to be late. But when Harry went to his daughter’s
bedroom to see if she was almost ready for school, Avery was back in
her bed, pulling at the pigtails Harry had just tied her hair into. She
kept groaning about how much her head hurt and when Harry palmed
her forehead, her temperature seemed a little too high this time. And
he’s definitely not one to take chances about these things, so he called
her school and let her stay home. But the thing is, she’s been having
these headaches, they come, they go, but with every new wave they
come back stronger than before.
193
So today, when Avery’s severe headache caused her to hardly want to
move from her bed, Harry knew he needed to take her in to be
examined by a doctor.
And Harry hates hospitals, he hates them. Rightfully so. He begged his
fiancé to leave work and come in with him, not because he thought
there was something horribly wrong with his daughter, but because the
concept of stepping into a hospital not knowing what will happen
when he steps out, made him physically ill.
Their new home is actually far closer to Northeast Regional

Hospital—it’s not the better hospital, but it’s the closer hospital. And
it’s a hospital that Harry hasn’t associated negative memories to, so
that’s where he planned to go. He told Jesse to meet him there and
that was that.
But sure enough, the E.R at Northeast wasn’t accepting any new
patients due to a heavy trauma from the early morning hours that was
still busying up their staff. And they referred all incoming patients to
none other than Seaside Seattle Medical Center.
Of course, Harry could have said ‘fuck that, I’m going home’ and sparred
himself a potentially emotionally jarring experience, but his daughter
means absolutely everything to him and something had to be done
about her persistent headaches. Harry couldn’t bear to see her in pain
any longer. So he sucked it up and went back to the place he swore to
himself he never, ever would.
But yet, Harry still didn’t expect to see Louis here—he thought this
would just be an in and out sort of thing. An exam, maybe a few lab
tests and a prescription, that’s it. Nothing that Louis would ever be
involved in. Harry even thought that maybe Louis didn’t work here
any more, maybe he’d moved off to a new hospital, maybe he’d left
Seattle all together.
But here he is anyway, sitting right across from Harry at the long table
looking just as lovely and sweet as he ever did. It’s only fitting really,
in a twisted fucked up sort of way.
194
louis. ssmc. heartbreak. cancer. death.
Somehow all synonymous, interchangeable things in Harry’s mind.
He didn’t expect to be here again, in a similar place, among similar

company, under similar circumstances giving new meaning to the
concept of déjà vu, because that’d be flat out ridiculous wouldn’t it?
Fucking unreal ridiculous. The kind of ridiculous bullshit that

encompasses his entire life in such hateful, cruel ways, so much so that
he’s become scarily accustomed to it.
Harry finally put himself together enough to come back into the room,
forcing himself to sit still in his chair as the doctors before him try to
shed more light on a topic Harry would much rather leave in the
darkness.
“We don’t quite know what causes this form of tumor to grow in
children, but many indicators based on her family history show it may
be a genetically inherited risk.” Niall explains, speaking carefully.
“Gemma...” Harry mumbles quietly, voice crackling as he forces his

sister’s name out of his dry, unwilling mouth. If someone asked him
when the last time he spoke her name was, he couldn’t even truthfully
say. It hurts too much. It still hurts too much.
He’s become a master of compartmentalization, hiding things away in

little concealed boxes in his mind, riddled with miles of warning tape
and red flags. Some things can never be talked about, some things have
no business ever being spoken of again and if Harry can somehow
avoid confronting such things, he does it without question. It’s how
he copes day to day, it’s how he gets by and manages a seemingly
normal, healthy, maybe even happy life. Keeping the good, good and
the bad, bad. Never mixing the two.
It’s how he functions as a father, separating and dissociating Avery

away from any negative ideal in his past life. Harry has no other choice,
195
but to keep it all separate, or else the sadness and the anger and the
heartbroken frustration will consume him yet again.
“Yes.” Niall nods in confirmation. “I understand that she was Avery’s

biological mother. It is indeed likely that Avery has a genetic
disposition to cancerous ailments causing the early onset of her tumor.
Especially considering that during gestation her mother was at the
height of her terminal illness.”
This can’t be happening again. This can’t be real. In what world does
any of this make sense?
Harry’s entire body feels numb and void as he tries to process. Eyes
closed as he inhales and exhales slowly to prevent himself from bolting
out of the room again.
His entire life for the past eight years has been about his daughter, she
became his everything, devoting his entire existence to caring for her
as best he could. Even though he fought it at first, Avery, his sweet
little Avie, wiggled her way right into Harry’s broken heart and made
him feel something again. She kept him moving, she kept him
breathing, she kept him sane.
He was finally feeling ok. He finally felt like he had his life somewhat
in order, at least on some kind of level. As an outsider looking in on
his current life, it looks pretty good, maybe even great. When he left
Louis’ doorstep he was a mess, a huge sodding miserable mess,
a burdensome mess. He didn’t know what to do or where to go, but deep
down he knew what Louis had said to him that night was right.
for her…for avery...
It’s all a blur now really, a horrible misconstrued blur that he blocked
out. He blocked it out so he could attempt to move on, sobering up
and putting his life together as best he could. None of it was easy,
nothing was simple, and it took him a long time to wrap his mind
around being a parent, to truly accept it as his new reality. He
struggled—god he really fucking struggled with fatherhood. Every day
196
for weeks on end, he battled with himself, forcing himself to do better
until it started to feel a little easier, a little more natural.
Harry pushed through it and he overcame the bullshit life threw at him
and now, after so many years of heartache, he is supposed to be well
on his way to happy. He’s getting married to a wonderful man that he
loves and his career is taking off, he’s a devoted dad to a beautiful little
girl and everything is supposed to be ok now. It’s supposed to be
fucking ok.
All Harry craves is normalcy, all he wants is that familiar regularity and
stability that he used to dream about as a kid. He longs for it daily, he
yearns for it with every chamber of his heart and it was finally his or
so he believed, but maybe it’s doomed to never be.
this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening…not

again...
“What…uh...w-what can we do?” Harry asks weakly and his voice

sounds odd and hoarse even to his own ears. He feels so faint. One
hand gripping his fiancé’s for dear life, the other clamped down on his
own thigh, nails uncontrollably digging into the fabric of his trousers.
“Surgery is definitely the best option to remove the tumor.” Louis

speaks up and at the sound of his voice Harry opens his eyes to look
at him. “And based on how the surgery goes, we’ll determine how
aggressive we need to be with any chemotherapeutic treatments.”
Now that Harry has locked eyes on Louis, he can’t seem to look away,
almost like being paralyzed. “Will she…will she have to go through
radiation?”
“No…” Louis shakes his head, but only marginally, as though he can’t
quite move either. “Her brain is still in its developing stages so we want
to avoid damaging it as much as possible. Radiation is often far too
harsh on pediatric patients, so um...we’ll follow up the surgery with
only chemotherapy instead of radiation therapy.”
197
Harry feels Jesse squeeze his hand again, running his thumb gently
along Harry’s skin. His touch causes Harry to break the charged eye
contact with Louis, sucking in another swift breath as he lowers his
head down to his lap.
“Ok, so how long will she need to go through chemotherapy?” Jesse

asks on Harry’s behalf, pulling Harry’s hand closer to him.
Louis doesn’t answer immediately this time so Niall starts to speak.

“The better the surgery goes, the less amount of chemotherapy Avery
will need to be exposed to. The chemotherapy drugs won’t directly
target her brain, it’s designed to force her entire body to attack itself.
The less of that she has to go through, the better because that’s what
will really tax her body.”
Harry feels the pull of tears at his eyes again, thinking about Avery
going through all that. He swipes at his eyes, sniffling a bit.
“I know this is scarily familiar to you, but this isn’t the same situation
as your sister.” Niall explains sympathetically. “Medicine is always
changing and it has advanced greatly since the last time. We are going
to do everything we can and I can assure you that Dr. Tomlinson is
one of the best at what he does.”
Harry glances at Louis to see him looking down at his own lap,
avoiding all eye contact. He always knew Louis would be great
someday and although there isn’t much room in his mind to think of
anything but his daughter’s diagnosis, Harry still feels a slight pang of
pride for him.
“She doesn’t know yet, right? Avery…she doesn’t know that she
has…” Harry’s whispered words fade out as another wave of nausea
sets in.
Niall shakes his head, leaning forward. “No, she doesn’t know, but we
can talk to her, if you like—”
198
“No, let me tell her.” Harry finds himself saying, before he’s even
processed it. “It might be less scary for her that way…”
“Are you sure, babe? Do you want me to be there?” Jesse asks

supportively, turning to cup Harry’s face, wiping a fallen tear from his
cheek.
“No…I um…I should probably do it myself...” Harry decides slowly,

searching his fiancé’s eyes. “Thank you though.”
Avery shouldn’t find out news like this from anyone but Harry. And
even though it might physically break him in half to tell her something
like this, somehow, someway, Harry is going to find the strength to do
it.
||✚||
“Daddy! You’re back!” Avery jumps up excitedly the second she sees
him.
“Hi Munchie!” Harry smiles widely, using another one of his

nicknames for his favorite little munchkin. He lifts Avery up off the
ground and hugs her close, just relishing the feeling of holding her in
his arms. He took awhile before coming in here, needing to get his
mind right. Harry paced around the hospital alone for the past hour,
he cried, he rationalized and then he cried some more. And he’s not
here in this room now because he somehow summoned the strength
and the courage to do this. No, he’s here now because he knows no
matter how much he cries, this isn’t going to go away. “Did you have
fun getting ice cream?”
“Yep!” Avery wraps her small arms around his neck. “I had our
favorite, mint chocolate chip. But I put Oreos on top and purple
sprinkles and fudge and green sprinkles and then more purple
sprinkles.”
199
“Ooh that sounds so good, especially all the sprinkles. And you
didn’t save me any?” Harry pouts exaggeratedly. He carries her over
to the small couch along the wall, sitting down with Avery still held
tightly in his arms.
“It would have melted, Daddy.” Avery tells him obviously, playing
with his hair as she always loves to do.
“But maybe I like my ice cream melted.” Harry claims, still frowning.
Avery laughs, shaking her head. “No you don’t, I know you don’t.”
“And how do you know that, Avie?” Harry grins, surprising Avery by
tickling her tummy. “How do you know!”
Avery giggles, squirming around as Harry tickles under her arms and
peppers her face with little kisses.
“What was that, Avery? I can’t hear you?” Harry teases, laughing
along with her.
“I know because I know you! Duh!”
“Oh, duh!” Harry echos, making a playfully forgetful face.
“You’re ridiculous, Daddy.” Avery smiles warmly, displaying the

missing tooth she lost last week.
“Well I guess that’s probably true.” Harry grins back, kissing her
cheek before adjusting her properly on his lap again. He wraps his
arms around her and just holds her to his chest. Avery clings to him,
tucking her head snuggly against her father. Harry closes his eyes for
a moment and racks his mind trying to figure out how to break his
eight-year-old daughter’s heart and tell her that she needs brain
surgery.
200
“Avie, baby, I need to talk to you about something.” Harry starts
slowly, chin resting atop her head as he rubs her back.
“I’m really sick, aren’t I?” Avery asks quietly before Harry can even
explain anything to her. There’s something so odd in her voice,
something that terrifies Harry.
Harry pulls back enough to look down into her innocent hazel eyes,
wanting so much to be able to tell her no. Tell her that everything is
fine and they get to go home and return to their lives and nothing is
going to change.
“Yes.” Harry answers back in a whisper, caressing her cheek.
Avery nods her head slowly as if she was already expecting it. She’s
always been very perceptive that way. “What kind of sick?”
“Um…” Harry blows out a heavy breath, chewing on his lip

anxiously as he fights to stay calm.
This is so hard to explain to her, probably because it requires him to

explain everything else he’s been carefully avoiding. Avery knows
about Gemma, at least on a basic level. She knows that her mother
passed away and left Avery to Harry to adopt and she understands
that Harry is not her biological father. Harry probably wouldn’t have
told her even that much, but when she turned six she started asking
more and more questions about why she doesn’t have a mother.
Avery would come home from school and talk all about how
everyone in her class has two parents. And she’d go on to describe all
the different kinds of families her friends have, “Some have a mommy
and a daddy and some have two mommies or two daddies and my friend Suzy
said she lives with her mommy on school days, but then she lives with her daddy
too, but only on weekends. And I wanna know why I only have one daddy?
What happened to my other one? Why don’t I have a mommy? Did my other one
not want me? Why didn’t they want me?”
201
And it would always shatter Harry’s entire heart, because each time
she asked, she looked that much more sad. She was only six years old
and already having such a hard time. Sometimes Avery would come
home crying because she felt left out at school on days like Family
Day because she couldn’t fill out her family tree like everyone else.
And sometimes Avery’s teacher would call Harry to tell him that his
daughter was having a really bad day and she didn’t want to talk to
anyone.
So when Avery was seven, Harry took her out of school for a day
and they spent the entire day together. They made a fort in the living
room out of nearly all the pillows and blankets in the house and
Avery gave Harry a princess makeover where she “braided” his hair
with ribbons and covered his face in glitter because princesses need
to sparkle, of course. They baked cookies and watched movies,
specifically musicals because Avery always loves to sing along with
them. Her absolute favorite is Singin’ in the Rain, she knows all the
songs and even some of the choreography, so she and Harry always
have the best time singing and dancing about the living room
together when they watch it.
And at the end of the day, after they’d eaten far too many cookies
and laughed over all their many inside jokes, Harry pulled Avery into
his lap and had a talk with her about her mother and how she came
to be his daughter. It was far from an easy conversation to have,
there were plenty of tears from each of them and even though Harry
tried, he never could fully explain to Avery exactly how Gemma died.
Avery had tons of questions about how it all happened and she still
does to this day, but Harry still can’t bring himself to openly talk
about that time in his life. He continually puts so much effort into
skirting around the topic, avoiding it as much as possible. And it
seems that it has finally all caught up with him in the worst way
imaginable.
“Erm…Avie, baby, do you remember when we had our special day

together…and I told you that your mother was very sick when she
had you?” Harry asks, still rubbing soothing patterns along her spine.
202
Avery nods her head gradually, peering up at him with wide eyes.
“Well um…” Harry pauses, chewing heavily on his inner cheek. “She
wasn’t just sick…she…she had a tumor in her brain—cancer.”
Avery’s brows pull into a frown, sitting up a bit. “That’s how she
died? From a tumor?”
Harry nods, watching her reaction closely as he tries to keep himself

steady.
“But what do tumors do exactly?” Avery asks, sounding confused.

“How can someone die from them?”
Harry takes a deep breath, trying to figure out how to explain all this
to a child without frightening her. “Um, well Avie…tumors don’t
belong in your body so having one can make you feel really tired all
the time…and it’s not so easy to do things anymore because your
body hurts you and it’s hard for someone to keep living when their
body is so tired and sick.”
Avery blinks at Harry, still frowning as her mind puts together the
pieces on her own.
“Daddy?” She asks slowly, wide honey eyes searching his forest ones.
Her voice sounds so small and unsure, looking to her father for
reassurance. “If she had a tumor…does that mean I have a tumor
too? Do I have cancer? Is that why I get dizzy all the time and get
really bad headaches?”
The look on her face is breaking him apart from the inside out. Harry
can’t even answer her, turning his head away for a moment just to try
and compose himself.
“Am I…” Avery starts again quietly as she processes, tentatively

touching her own head as though she already knows. “Am I…going
to die…like…”
203
Harry is trying so impossibly hard not to cry in front of her, to be
brave and show her that she doesn’t need to be afraid, that she has
nothing to worry about because she is going to beat this.
everything is going to be ok
“Yes, baby…you have a tumor too. But you aren’t going to going
to…d-di—” Harry chokes on the word, closing his eyes for another
moment to ground himself. He looks up to hold the water lining his
eyes back and refocuses his mind solely on Avery, putting aside his
emotions as best he can. “Sweetheart, you have amazing doctors
and…a-and they have a plan to get you all better, ok? It’s going to be
a-alright—you’re going to have to stay in the hospital for a bit and
have surgery to take out your tumor and I know how scary that
sounds but, but you’re going to be o-ok and…” His voice drops off
as he sees the uncertainty laced in her golden hazel eyes and he can’t
bring himself to talk about this any further, instead reaching over and
pulling Avery to his chest in an impossibly tight embrace. “Avie, I l-
love you.” He closes his eyes as he rests his cheek against the top of
her head, still trying so hard to keep his welling up tears at bay. “I
love you so much, Munchie.”
“I love you too, Daddy.” Avery whispers back, nuzzled to his chest.
They stay wrapped up in each other’s arms quietly and Harry can feel
her silent tears against his shirt.
“Will I have to shave my head for the surgery?” Avery wonders out
loud in a tiny voice. She sounds so scared and it’s a horrible sound to
hear as a parent. Harry wishes with everything that he could take this
burden from her. She’s too young to have to deal with this. She’s too
young to be sick and frail. It’s not right, it’s not fair.
Harry tightens his hold around her, just wanting her to feel safe
somehow. “I’m not sure sweetheart, but if you do I promise I’ll
shave mine with you.”
204
Avery pulls back a bit and gives him a look. “Oh no, Daddy...you
wouldn’t look good bald, I don’t think.” She tells him honestly,
shaking her head.
Harry gives her a watery smile, chuckling a little. He strokes the sides
of her face gently, tucking a few stray locks of her wavy hair behind
her ears. “Well you’re the cutest, so I know you can pull it off.”
Avery smiles back, but it’s not as bright as it usually is—as it should
be. And Harry would do anything to wipe that terrified look off of
her face and never see it again. But there’s nothing he can do,
nothing but hold his baby snuggly against his chest and press
reassuring kisses to the top of her head and continue to tell her
everything will be ok until he starts to believe it too.
||☤||
Louis is back in the imaging room reviewing Avery’s scans again. He

is sitting here, slouched down in his chair, staring at the screen trying
to convince himself that this will be easy. Not the surgery, but having
Harry and Avery in his life again. It was excruciating to be without
them for so long, to pick up his life and continue on as if they had
never been an integral part of it. But maybe not having them around
was better. Better than this at least.
There is often comfort in not knowing, ignorance is bliss and all that.
Louis could have gone a long time without knowing that Harry is
engaged to someone else, he could have gone without finding out that
Harry found happiness somewhere else.
It was hard to live without them, but it’s almost harder to live on with
them within arm’s distance, knowing that neither of them can ever be
his again.
“Um... Dr. Tomlinson?”
205
Louis startles, twisting in the swivel chair to see Niall’s intern from
earlier—Wesley, he remembers. She’s got her light brown hair tossed
up into a messy bun atop her head, stray hairs held back by a pair of
glasses.
“I don’t mean to bother you but uh…I um I just had a few questions
about your intended approach for this case—I mean given the age of
the patient and the location of the tumor...I was just curious about
what your strategy was?”
Louis sits up in his chair, eyeing the intern curiously. “You’re Dr.
Wesley, right?”
“Yeah, Charlie erm Charlotte—I mean no. My first name is Charlie

um—I’m Dr. Wesley, yes.” She stutters, fumbling over her words so
hard, it almost doesn’t make any sense. “Dr. Charlotte Wesley.”
Louis smiles a little, his sister’s name was Charlotte, although she never
went by Charlie. He hasn’t let himself think about her in awhile, a long
while. It’s a weird feeling that washes over him, but Louis pushes it
aside before he can dwell on it for too long.
Charlie blushes in embarrassment, stuffing her hands down into her

white coat. “Sorry, I ramble sometimes—sorry.”
Louis continues watching her silently, always amused by the bumblings

of new doctors. Interns always get so flustered by the slightest of
things because they don’t yet have the confidence of a full grown
surgeon. “So Dr. Wesley, are you interested in neurosurgery as a
specialty in the future?”
“Well um—yes.” Charlie nods, staring down at her feet as though just
talking to Louis makes her incredibly nervous. “Actually Dr.
Tomlinson...I um…I specifically wanted to come to SSMC for
residency, because I wanted to have the opportunity to learn under
you. I think your work is so inspiring and innovative and you’re not
even that old yet and you’ve accomplished so much already and I uh
206
I…well I just think you’re amazing and brilliant and I admire you so
much—and I am definitely gonna stop talking now...wow…”
After that last bit, Charlie blushes crimson, probably feeling as though
she’s truly reached peak embarrassment by essentially fangirling over
him.
Charlie reminds Louis a bit of his younger self, a rambling mess, just
starting out and eager to learn from Dr. Carmichael. And if he’s
learned anything from his own mentor, it’s that it is a doctor’s right of
passage to give back. To pay it forward and continue to take the time
to teach those who come after.
“I’m honored, Dr. Wesley. Really, I am.” Louis smiles appreciatively.

Normally Louis picks a resident to tag team specific cases with him,
especially cases that require major procedures and continued post-op
care. But Charlie is so eager and already interested in Avery’s case, it
can’t hurt to involve her. Besides she literally came here to learn from
him, might as well start now. “How would you like to work on this
case with me?”
“Oh my gosh, really? No way!” Charlie’s eyes grow wide with

anticipation as her jaw drops for a moment in surprise. “I mean—yes,
thank you Dr. Tomlinson for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
“Let’s hope not.”
||✚||
“Where did you go?”
Harry blinks, startled, shaking his head back to the present. His mind
had wandered off as it has been doing incessantly ever since he found
out about his daughter’s condition. His fiancé’s gentle grey eyes stare
back at him in concern as they sit in his parked car. Jesse rests a
reassuring hand on Harry’s thigh from the driver’s side, tracing light
patterns to his jeans in a comforting way.
207
“You keep wandering off in your head.” Jesse continues gently. “How
are you feeling? Talk to me.”
Harry doesn’t quite know what to say, he knows how spacey and out
of it he looks, but he can’t help it. At this very moment, Avery is being
officially admitted into the same surgical wing her mother died at. It’s
not something that Harry can easily process or even begin to wrap his
head around.
Harry was in no state to drive, so Jesse offered to take Harry home to

gather a few of Avery’s things for her hospital room. But ever since
Jesse pulled up to their house, they’ve just been sitting in the car in
silence.
Harry turns away from the passenger window, slightly opening his
mouth to try and answer. But he knows that anything he tries to say
will only come out in the form of a sob.
“I…I don’t know what to feel…” Harry croaks, eyes stinging. He just
keeps picturing the way Avery’s face looked after he talked with her,
the fear and uncertainty that should have no place in her eyes.
“Oh I’m so sorry, babe.” Jesse leans in over the center console of the
car to cup Harry’s face with both hands. “I hate seeing you so upset. I
just want to help Harry, tell me what I can do to help.”
Harry’s mind goes blank once more. Unless Jesse can miraculously
suck the cancerous cells from his sick baby’s body, there is nothing he
can do. But Harry knows Jesse’s heart is in the right place, he’s so good
to him. There seems to be nothing he wouldn’t do for Harry—after
all, he moved out here just to be with Harry.
They’d been perfectly happy living in bright and sunny Los Angeles,
comfortable and settled into their life together. Until Harry uprooted
their lives to move back to Seattle.
208
Seven years ago Harry got a call from Adam, one of his good friends
from back during his university days. Adam was heavy into business
and working on starting his own marketing firm, specifically a creative
and digital marketing agency. Remembering how talented Harry was
back in school, Adam wanted to bring Harry on his team as the lead
marketing consultant for his agency.
It seemed like the most opportune timing, considering where Harry

was in life. He was working for a temp agency at the time, something
Harry knew couldn’t sustain him and Avery long into the future, so he
took a chance and moved them both to L.A.
That’s where he met Jesse, and it wasn’t one of those magical first
encounters, or anywhere near love at first sight. Actually it was all
business, Jesse is a lawyer and the law firm he was working for hired
Adam’s marketing agency to rebrand their firm. Harry was the main
consultant for the job, so naturally he ended up getting to know Jesse
in the process.
They flirted harmlessly with each other back and forth, but Harry
never intended to actually date him. He was trying to balance his newly
blooming career and newfound single fatherhood, and in all honesty
Harry really didn’t have the time to commit to seriously dating
someone. But Jesse was persistent and cute and slowly but surely he
started to grow on Harry.
Avery was only four when Harry and Jesse started dating and Harry
didn’t let him around her at first because he didn’t want Avery to get
too attached to him if they didn’t end up working out. He wanted to
do everything he could to spare Avery any further confusion. Their
unique situation is already confusing and complicated enough on its
own, but at the same time Harry knew that his daughter craved the
stability of another parent. Which is why Harry was relieved when
things eventually did work out with Jesse, it gives Avery the chance to
grow up in balanced home.
And when Adam told Harry that the marketing firm was doing well
enough to branch out to other cities, Harry somehow found himself
209
back in Seattle. The move came with a pay raise and a bit more
flexibility in his schedule, but he still has to make business trips to L.A.
a few times a quarter. Jesse was so incredibly lovely about it, in fact he
responded to the news by getting down on one knee and proposing to
Harry, promising to love and support him no matter what.
So Harry said yes, of course he said yes. They’re in love and they’re
happy and everything is wonderful—or at least it was before today.
A few days ago Harry was planning a wedding. Blissfully planning a

wedding to a man he loves. And now a wedding is the furthest thing
on his mind.
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I want you to know
that I’m here for you, ok?” Jesse whispers, both hands still on Harry’s
face. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this. And you
shouldn’t worry about us or the wedding or anything else. Our primary
focus should be about Avery and getting her well again.”
Harry nods, trying to stay positive, but all he really wants to do is lay
down and cry. When he looks up to meet Jesse’s eyes, he can’t help
the inevitable tears that begin to fall down his cheeks.
“Come here, babe.” Jesse pulls Harry into as much as a hug as he can
within the confines of the car, rubbing his back. “She’s going to be ok.
It’s all going to be ok…”
||☤||
“Lou, did you ever leave the hospital to play hooky?” Zayn asks, sliding
into the booth next to Louis with a fresh round of drinks.
After the events of the last few hours, the last place Louis wanted to
be was out at a bar attempting to have a good time with his friends.
He loves his boys, he loves their ritual lad's night, but tonight Louis
isn’t in the right frame of mind for this.
210
“Oh...um no…I got caught up…” Louis answers quietly, ducking his
face behind the rim of his pint. Although Zayn just brought a new
round, Louis hardly even touched his first one, still practically full to
the brim.
Niall looks at him knowingly from across the table, expression

understanding and soft. Louis is really only here right now because
Niall found him after his bowel resection and practically twisted Louis’
arm all the way to the bar. He thought it would be good to unload and
take his mind off things for a little bit. But the concept of that is so
unrealistic Louis could laugh. How the hell is he supposed to take his
mind off of something like this? It’s all he can bring himself to think
about.
“That’s too bad.” Zayn shakes his head. “Next time I’ll go with you, I
swear. Just say the word and I’m there.”
Why can’t Louis be one of those people that somehow manage to

throw all their inhibitions and worries to the wind? Those people who
can put aside their shitty day and enjoy their evening in peace until the
bullshit returns the next day. Maybe Louis just isn’t that good at
pretending.
It’s just so strange how a day can change for the worse so quickly. This
morning he was fine, he was living his life as best he could and he was
fine. Sure, he had an ugly feeling in his gut, lurking over him, but that’s
not exactly a new thing. Day to day Louis carries around a sadness in
his heart, a sinking in his chest. It never completely goes away, some
days he’s just better at dealing with it.
And luckily Louis has people around him that make it a bit easier,
people who really care about him, people he’s meant to be having a
nice night with right now, but somehow can’t seem to handle it despite
his best efforts.
“Isn’t that right, Tommo?”
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“Huh—what?” Louis blinks back up at his friends, having not heard
any of their conversation and it’s not the first time tonight that he’s
totally zoned out.
Zayn frowns at him a little. “I just said I think it’s time we pull another
prank on Aoki.”
“Oh right…yeah...definitely…” Louis tries, forcing half a smile he

can’t quite manage.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Louis.” Liam notices from across the
table. “Which isn’t anywhere near normal for you. Is everything
alright?”
Only Niall knows about what happened today and part of Louis wants
to talk it out, but the other part—the bigger part, couldn’t talk about
it if he tried. Probably because he hasn’t fully processed it himself yet.
He feels numb, but maybe that’s not the best way to explain it because
that would imply he can’t feel anything and truthfully Louis feels far
too much.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Yeah.” Louis shakes his head too many times
and he tries once again to offer a smile, but he knows how flat and
dead it looks. He could keep sitting here, maybe guzzle down a few
pints and wait for the alcohol to kick in as he spaces out over a
conversation he couldn’t be less invested in. Or he can call a quits now
and make a beeline for the exit, go back to the hospital and find some
kind of welcomed distraction. The decision is almost too easy. “You
know what, lads—I’m sorry, I gotta go.”
“No Louis, we just got here.” Zayn jumps in first. “You can’t leave
yet.”
“I know, I know…I’m sorry, but I gotta go.” Louis repeats, feeling a

bit more anxious.
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“Lou, I really think you should stay.” Niall urges, eyeing Louis
seriously. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“Are you ok? Is everything alright?” Liam asks again with more worry
than the first time. His gaze trails over to Niall, giving him a
questioning look. “Is he ok? What happened today?”
And Louis just knows that if he doesn’t answer truthfully, Liam is

going to start badgering Niall for the answers Liam knows he has and
then Zayn will chime in and they’re all going to sit around this booth
like mother hens and worry incessantly over him. But it’s either going
to happen while Louis is still sitting here or after he’s already long gone
and Louis isn’t really in the mood to mothered right now.
“I’m fine, yeah. I just uh—I remembered that I have to follow up with
a patient of mine. No big deal.” Louis lies, as three sets of concerned
eyes stare him down, not believing him for a moment.
“Why don’t you have one of your residents do it if it’s not a big deal?”
Zayn suggests lightly.
“It’s um—I can’t.” Louis dismisses briefly, not even bothering to try
too hard on his excuse because he knows his friends see right through
him anyway. He opens up his wallet and drops a few twenties on the
table before quickly squeezing himself out of the booth. “Have a
round on me, ok? I’ll see you guys.”
And with that, Louis is gone, out of the door of the bar in seconds flat
before his friends can drag him back. SSMC is only a block away from
the bar, so Louis makes it back to the hospital in record time.
After a day like today, a normal person would probably just go home.
Curl up in bed to do something brainless, uncommitted, and easy to
unwind and try to mentally prepare for the next day. But Louis isn’t
normal, he’s a surgeon. A surgeon with so much emotional baggage,
it’s a wonder why he’s allowed to cut into people for a living.
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Louis heads towards the elevators, planning on changing back into a
pair of navy scrubs before checking in at the E.R. for any Neuro
traumas he can steal. Once on the lift, he pulls his phone out of his
back pocket, answering a few texts he missed earlier, and when he lifts
his head again, the elevator doors open and there stands Harry.
Harry falters for a moment, obviously caught off guard as they make
reluctant eye contact. He looks like he might just walk away
completely, but then he shakes himself out a bit, taking a breath as he
boards the elevator in silence.
They stand in the confined space as the doors close, keeping

themselves as far apart as realistically possible. But the tension remains
unbearable, practically asphyxiating Louis’ vital organs to oblivion. He
is just counting down the seconds in his head, watching the lights of
each passing floor flicker by in essentially slow motion, wondering why
the fuck these elevators insist on being so damn slow.
Louis certainly isn’t going to say a single thing and he is praying that
Harry won’t either, hoping that by some small chance he can escape
this death trap of an elevator without a single acknowledgement. But
Louis has never been that lucky.
“So…um…” Harry starts, glancing at Louis tentatively, twisting

around the rings on his fingers.
“We don’t have to do this.” Louis interrupts instantly, not even turning
towards him. He can’t turn towards Harry—he can’t look at Harry.
“We don’t need to do the whole small talk thing, we don’t have to
exchange stories about our lives and catch up. You don’t have to
pretend to care. I don’t want to and you don’t want to, so let’s just not.
We can keep this civil and superficial. I’m just the doctor of your
daughter.”
There is a long silence stretching between them, a nearly unbearable

silence. Louis almost wants to say more just to fill the empty void of
sound, but thankfully the elevator chimes its arrival.
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“Ok then, Dr. Tomlinson.” Harry offers pointedly, slipping past Louis
to his floor. He stops briefly, half-looking over his shoulder.
“Um…have a nice evening.”
“Same to you.” Louis forces a tight, closed mouth smile, holding it on

his unwilling face until the elevator doors shut again. And once he’s all
alone in the square space, Louis deflates, letting out a heavy breath as
he braces the wall with one hand.
“Fuck…” He closes his eyes and just tries to find his equilibrium, tries
to balance himself until his breath slowly starts even out.
Will this ever get any easier? Is this going to happen every single time
he lays eyes on Harry? Will his body always feel the need to resort back
to panic mode at the mere mention of his name or the sound of his
voice?
Standing in the elevator’s chambers by himself, Louis is starting to

understand that this is going to be anything but easy.
215
CHAPTER 3
feel it stutter.
||☤||
For years Louis has taken to routine morning jogs. If he isn’t paged
into the hospital early or on-call, Louis wakes up bright and early, and
suits himself up into his running gear. Then he straps Benedict to a
leash, pops in his earbuds and off they go. Benny absolutely loves it,
never passing on a chance to run his little heart out, always pushing
Louis to run faster. And Louis has surprisingly gotten quite good since
he first started, able to run and run for miles on end without feeling
the need to stop. He even bought an Apple Watch to track his fitness
and all that, which is sort of fun, he supposes.
Louis tells himself that he runs to clear his mind for the day, but really
he runs to distract his mind. To momentarily hit pause on all the many
arduous things that traipse through his thoughts from minute to
minute. It’s quiet when he runs, it’s peaceful. Watching his calculated
steps hit the pavement one by one, attempting to keep his strides even
and level as his body falls into a rhythmic pattern. It’s sort of like how
he feels in the O.R., able to put his mind on autopilot and just relax,
needing only to focus on his breathing. It’s utterly therapeutic and
soothing in so many ways, Louis is practically addicted to it.
But on this particular morning as Louis runs, he doesn’t feel distracted

at all. In fact, all he can think about are the same two people and how
they somehow ended up right back in his life. But he’s only giving
himself until the end of his run to meditate on anything relating to that
because this morning Louis woke up with a new, confident
determination. He is absolutely, unequivocally, determined to not let any
of this bother him in the slightest.
216
Last night, Louis got several texts from Liam asking him if he wants
to talk, indicating that Niall obviously filled him in last night at the bar
after he left. And Zayn also left his fair share of messages, promising
that he’ll be there for Louis whenever he needs him. But Louis easily
assured each of them that he is one hundred percent, perfectly fine
because once again, he is not going to let this unexpected thing shake
up his life. He is going to march right into that hospital with his chin
up and head held high, and he is going to do his fucking job completely
unaffected by any of his past demons.
everything is fine, i’m fine, i’m ok, i’m fine…
And out of utter self-preservation, Louis is going to keep his distance

this time. He is not going to get involved and he is damn well not going
to get overly invested. He is strictly going to stay within the lines of his
job and perform Avery’s surgery and that’s it.
How things ended between him and Harry had been ugly. And it left
memories Louis never wants to relive. The baby he knew and loved is
a little girl now, a girl he doesn’t know or need to get to know. And
the Harry he knew was just a young romantic who inadvertently broke
his heart and is now engaged to someone else. Their lives most
certainly do not need to be intertwined again, in fact they have literally
no reason to.
And it is for that reason that Louis purposely has assigned interns and
residents to do all of Avery’s labs and pre-op procedures. Carefully
insuring that he does not have to get involved beyond what is
absolutely necessary.
But as Louis passes by Avery’s room that morning, just trying to mind
his own business on his way down to Radiology, his gaze deviates from
his intended direction. He probably shouldn’t have looked, but now
that he already has, Louis can’t help but notice his intern, Dr. Wesley,
struggling to get Avery’s IV to stick properly.
Louis stops walking, watching on from a distance outside of Avery’s

room. She’s a small feisty little thing, fiery, just like her mother was,
217
Louis can tell. But she is clearly in pain from being repeatedly pricked
by a thick needle. Avery squirms around a bit, wincing away from
Charlie’s touch as she grows in discomfort.
“Dr. Wesley, you’re hurting the patient.” Louis steps into the room
briefly, unable to completely ignore the situation despite not wanting
to get too involved.
“I’m uh…I’m sorry, Dr. Tomlinson.” Charlie stammers, attempting to

stick her again with a 24-gauge needle, which is definitely too big for
her veins, considering how small she is.
Avery winces once more as the intern fumbles again, missing the right
vein completely and having to retract the needle again.
“Don’t apologize to me, it’s your patient that is suffering.” Louis

frowns, arms crossed over his chest as he observes. “Have you never
put in a central line for a pediatric patient before?”
“I have—I have I swear, I just—her veins are so small and

faint...” Charlie defends apologetically, sounding nervous. The
decreased size and anatomical variation of pediatric patients often
makes it quite hard to establish a stable intravenous line, especially for
someone with little experience.
Louis watches Avery’s face closely and she’s fighting tears, biting down
on her lip as she tries not to cry. And it tugs at Louis’ heart because
she’s must be so scared, it’s not fun being poked at and prodded
incessantly. He is all for teaching and facilitating a learning
environment for his interns, but not if the patient is in pain because of
it.
“Ok, stop.” Louis instructs, placing a hand on the intern. Charlie

obediently steps aside, practically in relief and Louis moves to sit down
on the bed next to Avery, meeting her eye level in an attempt to relate
to her. “Hi Avery, I’m Dr. Tomlinson. Remember me from the other
day?”
218
She nods her head slowly, but she doesn’t look like she’s willing to
trust any doctors right now. Avery sits folded into herself, body
language closed off entirely.
Louis notices the plush walrus tucked tightly under her other arm. The
gray material is faded and worn down, but he still instantly recognizes
it from when she was a baby. He can’t believe she still has it after all
this time—well actually it makes sense because she was always so
obsessed with the thing, even as a baby.
“Do you like walruses?” Louis asks gently, giving her a smile.
Avery nods again, hugging it closer to her chest, but still not speaking
or lifting her head.
“You do? That’s really cool. I like them too.” Louis grins. “What’s your
walrus’s name?”
Avery bites at her lip before whispering. “...Lemon.”
“Lemon? What a curious name for a walrus.” Louis widens his grin,
already endeared. “Does he smell like lemons too?”
“No…” Avery smiles shyly a bit, glancing up at Louis briefly and it’s
not much but it’s progress. “I just thought his nose looked like a
lemon.”
Louis considers the walrus momentarily and he has to admit that she’s
not wrong, the only thing making the nose look any less like a lemon
is the peachy coloring instead of yellow. “Oh wow Avery! You’re right,
it really does look just like a tiny lemon. I think you gave your walrus
friend the perfect name.”
Avery gives him a proper smile this time, hugging Lemon closer to her
body.
219
“So Avery, I’m really sorry about your arm.” Louis tries next, still
speaking in soft approachable tones. “I know it’s not fun getting poked
at like that.”
“I don’t like needles.” Avery whispers nervously, hanging her head a

little again, but not completely shutting off to him.
“Me neither. They’re the worst.” Louis agrees, scrunching up his nose.
“When I was your age, I would scream and cry whenever I had to get
a shot. I absolutely hated it. I was so embarrassing.”
“Really?”
“Really, really.” Louis confirms, with a knowing smile. “And to be

honest, I’m probably just as bad right now.”
Avery cracks a small smile, giggling a little bit. “But you’re all grown
up now.”
“I know! That just makes it so much more embarrassing, doesn’t it?”

Louis grins widely. “Ok Avery, how about I make a little deal with
you?”
Avery slowly tilts her head in question. “What kind of deal?”
“Ok, so we’re all scared, right?” Louis starts, leaning in a bit closer like
he’s sharing a secret with her. “You and me, we’re scared of needles
and Dr. Wesley is apparently scared of using needles correctly.”
Avery giggles again, glancing at Charlie standing off to the side.
“So how about I let Dr. Wesley give me an IV in my arm, if you let me
give you one?” Louis suggests. “That way we all overcome our fears a
little. Deal?”
220
Avery thinks about it for a moment, eyeing Louis curiously as though
she is trying to decide whether to trust him or not. “Ok…” She nods
her head gradually. “But you can go first.”
“Ok, I’ll go first. But only if you hold my hand.” Louis adds, extending
his hand out to her.
“I can do that.” Avery smiles easily, taking Louis’ hand and linking
their fingers together.
“Oh thank you, Avery!” Louis exaggeratedly sighs with relief as he

squeezes her hand. “I’m just sooo nervous! I need someone brave like
you on my side.”
“You don’t need me to be brave.” Avery frowns, shaking her head.
“Oh, yes I do.” Louis tells her seriously. “I’m not gonna make it
through this without you. I feel braver just by holding your hand.
You’re the bravest person in this room.”
“No, I’m not...” Avery doubts, brows still furrowed skeptically.
“Yes, you are, I can see it.” Louis defends confidently. “Dr. Wesley,
can you see how brave Avery is?”
“Yes, of course!” Charlie agrees right away. “She’s practically glowing

with bravery.”
Louis nods, gasping loudly as he looks back at Avery with widened

eyes. “Oh my god, Avery—you are glowing!”
Avery must be starting to believe Louis, at least somewhat, because

she beams back at him, looking far less scared than she just was
moments ago. And her smile is so incredibly bright and lovely, Louis
thinks she may really be glowing.
221
“Well I think you’re brave too.” Avery decides, giving Louis’ larger
fingers a squeeze.
“Mmm…we will see about that in a bit won’t we?” Louis shrugs off
his lab coat and tentatively offers his bare arm to Dr. Wesley. “Please
don’t hurt me.”
“I’ll try my best.” Charlie promises, switching out her gloves before
prepping an adult sized 16-gauge catheter needle.
Louis watches her methods closely, quietly shaking his head at the size
catheter she picks, knowing that it’s far too large. Especially since his
IV isn’t even going to be used for anything but a demonstration.
Charlie corrects herself by choosing the smaller 18G catheter instead,

spreading out all the tools she’ll need on the tray table once again.
“Oh my god, I can’t watch!” Louis squirms dramatically, turning his

head away and leaning in towards Avery, causing her to giggle at him.
“It’s ok, just hold my hand.” Avery moves to wrap both of her tiny
hands over Louis’, trying her very best to comfort him.
Meanwhile, Charlie fastens the tourniquet around Louis’ upper arm to

secure blood flow before palpating his veins. Then she swabs the area
for thirty seconds to sanitize the injection site.
“Avery, are you looking? Is she doing it right?” Louis whispers to

Avery, squeezing his eyes closed.
“She’s doing good I think...I’m not really sure.” Avery tries, whispering
back.
“Ok, I trust you, Avery. Don’t let her hurt me.”
“Ok, I’m watching.” Avery promises, holding his hand tightly.
222
Charlie pulls his skin tight to best expose the vein, lining the tip of the
needle parallel to his skin. “Ready, Dr. Tomlinson?”
Louis shakes his head to and fro, huddled up against Avery with his
eyes still closed. Whether he is being purposely dramatic and ridiculous
for Avery’s sake or acting in genuine fear of needles, Louis will never
say.
“Hey, it’s over.” Avery says softly, giving Louis’ free hand another
squeeze.
“It’s over? It’s done?” Louis sighs heavily, sitting up and touching his
own chest in relief. “See Avery, I’m actually sweating bullets right now.
What would I have ever done without you? I’m a right mess—that
was sooo scary.”
“But you did it!” Avery reminds, smiling proudly.
“I did.” Louis nods, matching her smile. “And so can you.”
“Alright.” Avery agrees slowly, offering Louis her arm.
“Wesley, while I’m handling this, would you mind running down to
the lab for me? I was meant to be heading down there.”
“Yes, right away, Dr. Tomlinson.” Charlie says, striping her fingers of
her gloves before heading out.
“Thank you.” Louis decides to just keep the catheter in his arm for
now without the tubing. It doesn’t really feel like much once it’s in and
he wants to continue to reassure Avery. He tapes the end of the IV
down so it doesn’t move as he works on Avery.
Louis riffles through the tray table, sanitizing his hands and gloving up
before prepping the smaller 26G needle instead of the size Charlie was
using.
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“What does the W stand for?” Avery asks randomly.
“The W?” Louis follows her line of sight down to his I.D. badge
clipped to the breast pocket of his scrubs. “Oh, Walrus.”
Avery giggles, showing her little dimples. “Your middle name is

Walrus?”
“Yep, Dr. Louis Walrus Tomlinson, that’s me.” Louis jokes, sounding
perfectly serious as he ties the tourniquet above her elbow. “I know
it’s a huge coincidence considering that you love walruses and
everything, but it’s totally true.”
“I don’t believe you.” Avery grins.
“And why ever not?” Louis frowns in mock offense, pressing down
on her tiny vein a bit to get the prominent one to swell up. “I’m a
doctor, you can trust me!”
“Cuz that’s not a real name!”
“Yes it is, it’s my name.” Louis argues stubbornly, swabbing her arm.
“Nuh uh.” Avery shakes her head.
“Yeah huh.” Louis nods his head back.
Avery narrows her hazel eyes at him, staring Louis down in a way she
most likely believes is persuasively menacing, but all Louis thinks is
that she’s so ridiculously adorable.
“Ok, ok, you caught me.” Louis sighs in exaggeration. “So my W name
isn’t as cool as Walrus unfortunately, it’s William.”
“William is cool too.”
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“Well if you say so it must be true, because you’ve got to be the coolest
Avery I’ve ever met.” Louis compliments, unlocking the catheter and
aligning it with her pulsing vein. “Ok, just a little pinch…”
Avery doesn’t even so much as flinch when Louis successfully gets the
needle to stick, puncturing the vein. He seals the entry point, taping
down the tubing before connecting a fresh bag of fluids for her drip.
“And there we go, it’s all in. You’re done.” Louis stands to dispose of
the sterile wrappers and his used gloves. “See, not so bad right?”
“No, not so bad.” Avery looks down at her arm curiously, twisting it
a little as she stares at the new tubes coming from it.
“Told you.” Louis sits back down next to her. “And the great thing is
that once it’s in, we don’t have to do it again for awhile. Well unless
you pull it out, which I know you won’t do.”
“No, I won’t touch it.” Avery promises.
“Good.” Louis nods, smiling. He picks up the tablet Charlie left,

reading over Avery’s chart to pick up where she left off. “Alright, so
I’ve got to do a quick physical on you and also get a few more scans.”
“Why do you need so many scans?” She wonders and Louis is quickly
learning that Avery is a very inquisitive child, loving to ask questions.
“Oh well, basically they tell me exactly what parts of your brain are
sick so I can map out the best way to make you better without hurting
the parts that are healthy.” Louis explains easily.
“Ooh.” Avery nods in understanding. “That’s kinda cool. Like a

treasure map.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Louis laughs a little, nodding. “Ok, can you sit up for
me?”
225
“Dr. Louis—may I call you Dr. Louis?” Avery interrupts herself, ever
the polite and well-mannered child.
“I don’t mind.” Louis grins. She’s not only polite, but she also seems
very mature for her age. Probably the product of being raised with only
one parent; a level of maturity is almost required with what she was
born into.
“Ok, well Dr. Louis…I have a question?” Avery starts, sitting up a bit
straighter.
“And maybe, just maybe, I have an answer, but only maybe.” Louis
teases, sliding his stethoscope from his neck.
“Did you know my Daddy?” Avery rushes out, as though she’d been
holding in that question all day. “Like, before yesterday?”
Louis raises an eyebrow at her, but somehow the question doesn’t

really catch him off guard. “What makes you think that?”
“He acts really weird around you.”
“Take a deep breath for me.” Louis instructs stethoscope held to the
front of her chest. “What kind of weird?”
“The weird kind of weird.” Avery explains with shrug.
“Mmm.” Louis moves the scope a few inches. They say kids pick up
on everything and it’s probably true. “Another deep breath.”
Avery inhales again, still eyeing Louis curiously. “Also, you both talk
the same—you’re both British.”
Louis can’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head. “Well, that’s just a
coincidence.”
226
“I like to copy him sometimes.” Avery mocks in her best British
accent, which sounds surprisingly convincing for someone who most
likely has never been to England. “I think I’ve gotten quite good, to
be honest.”
Louis smiles fondly, giving Avery a little applause. “Oh that’s

marvelous, darling. Very, very good. I almost mistook you for The
Queen herself.”
“Thank you, thank you.” Avery properly bows a little, a knowing smile
spreading across her face. But then she rights herself, gazing at Louis
expectantly once again. “So did you know him or not? Don’t avoid the
question, Dr. Louis.”
Add sassy to the list of Avery’s discovered traits. Louis finds himself
growing more and more fascinated by this little eight-year-old the
longer he interacts with her.
Louis narrows his eyes, debating telling her the truth or not. She
doesn’t need to know and he could easily lie, unless maybe she would
pick up on that too? Exactly how intuitive are children again?
“Yes, I knew him many years ago.” Louis answers briefly, moving the
scope to the back of her chest. “Ok last one, deep breath.”
Her eyes widen with interest. “Really?”
“Mhmm.” Louis nods, draping his scope around his neck again. He
pauses a moment in consideration, biting his lip before continuing. “I
knew you too…”
“You did?” If at all possible, Avery’s already wide, golden eyes widen
even more in surprise. “But I don’t remember...”
Louis wishes he could say he’s surprised that Harry never mentioned
his existence to Avery. Of course he left it out, it’s of no significant
relevance to her anyway. “Well, you were only a baby at the time.”
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“A baby?” Avery gasps, trying to conceptualize the idea with her brow
furrowed.
“Yep, the cutest little chubby-faced baby.” Louis recalls with a smile.
“We were really close, you and me. We had a lot of fun nights
together.”
“What’d we do?” She asks curiously.
Louis can’t even begin to explain how strange it is to be talking about

any of this again out loud. Especially with none other than Avery
herself. Grown up enough to have full conversations, and ask
insightful questions. And with every word he speaks to her, Louis
knows he is going back on his promise to himself, to not get involved,
to stay out of it. But yet, Louis still doesn’t stop himself.
“Well, you were my charting buddy.” Louis starts, against his better
judgment. “For some reason it always calmed you down when I’d talk
to you, so I started reading all my charts out loud. And you’d just sit
there quietly in my arms—just watching me, so peaceful and
content. And then you’d smile your little heartbreaker smile.”
“Little heartbreaker?”
“Yeah…I always thought that your smile could claim a million hearts.”
Louis tells her, a hint of rediscovered pride in his voice.
Avery smiles full on, dimples, missing tooth and all and it’s still the
most beautiful thing Louis has ever seen.
“That’s it.” Louis softly smiles back, feeling his heart swell up in his
own chest. “Just as heart-stopping as before. We were so attached that
I even brought you with me to work. I’d carry you around, strapped
to my chest throughout the whole hospital and everyone assumed that
you were mine. My Aves...” Louis recounts, allowing himself to go soft
at the memory. A memory he has repeatedly swallowed more times
228
than he can count over the years. “That was my nickname for you.
Aves.”
“Your Aves...” Avery repeats almost in awe, as though she likes the
idea. “That all really happened?”
“Mhmm. It really did.” Louis nods, although it all seems like a lifetime
ago. Sometimes he has to ask himself the same thing. “I was younger
then and just starting out as a doctor—you know how Dr. Wesley
never seems to know which way is up?”
“Yeah.” Avery giggles, nodding. “She’s always messing up.”
“Well that’s cuz she’s learning, she’ll get better.” Louis assures. “But
try to imagine that as me and then I had you on top of it.”
“Ooh, that sounds bad.”
“I got into trouble all the time and I was never where I supposed to
be.” Louis describes, laughing a bit because it all sounds so
outlandishly ridiculous. God only knows how he managed it as long as
he did. “I was trying to be a good, new doctor and make my bosses
happy but still somehow try to take care of you. I was literally always
scrambling—just an absolute mess.”
“That sounds really bad.” Avery emphasizes this time, raising her
eyebrows.
“Not sooo bad. You made it better.”
“Dr. Tomlinson?” Charlie pokes her head into the room.
“Yes, Wesley?” Louis twists around to answer.
“Um...they’re requesting a Neuro consult downstairs. It’s urgent.”
229
“Alright, I’ll be right there.” Louis rights himself, picking up his
discarded lab coat. “Would you mind taking her up for her scans?”
“Oh, sure, no problem.” Charlie nods right away. “I can handle that.”
“Dr. Louis, will you come visit me again?” Avery wonders hopefully,
sitting up.
“Well, of course, little love. I’ve got to check up on you.”
“Not as my doctor, but…just...for me.” Avery says, voice going quiet

as if she’s nervous to even ask. “I like talking to you. I feel safer…I
don’t know…I just—will you?” She looks up at him with wide sienna
eyes, so expressive.
Louis stares at her, heart suddenly surging in his chest, taking him
completely by surprise. It’s been eight years and yet this girl is already
one step closer to stealing his heart again. So simply, so easily. As if it
always belonged to her.
“Yeah Aves. Yes, I will.” He nods genuinely, smiling softly.
“Really? You promise?”
“Oh, I swear it.” Louis crosses his chest. “And next time you can just
call me Louis.”
“I won’t get in trouble?” Avery worries. “Daddy said I should always

be polite and respectful, especially to grown ups.”
“You won’t get in trouble, I promise.” Louis assures her.
“Ok…Louis...” Avery whispers cautiously, leaning in a bit with an

adorably guilty smile smeared on her face, as if she is somehow
breaking the law by not referring to him by his title. “See you soon.”
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“Seeya little heartbreaker.” Louis smiles, waving at her from the
doorway.
||☤||
“Don’t react, I have to tell you something.” Niall announces quietly,

sliding himself next to Louis along the nurses’ station ledge.
“Ok…” Louis spins around slowly to face him in curiosity.
“First of all—are you ok?” Niall asks in concern. “You ran out so fast
last night and I know it’s gotta be hard with Ha—”
“I’m good. I’m fine.” Louis interjects simply.
“Really?” Niall double checks, searching Louis’ eyes for any warning
signs.
“Yes, yes!” Louis assures, waving Niall off. “Now tell me your thing.”
Niall takes a long, contemplative breath before scrunching up his facial

features and rushing out his words. “I slept with Charlie.”
“The intern?!” Louis blurts way louder than he meant to, eyes widened
with surprise. “You slept with an intern!? When? Where? How—”
“Shh!” Niall jumps, slamming a hand over Louis’ mouth. Although

Louis easily frees himself from Niall’s paranoid hold. “Someone will
hear you—”
“Way to go, Horan!” Zayn hoots, having obviously overheard the

whole thing as he casually strolls towards them. “Which intern did you
fuck?”
“Oh my god! Would you please keep your voice down? Lou, this is
exactly why I specifically told you not to react.” Niall groans, throwing
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his head back before glancing at Zayn. “You were definitely not
supposed to hear that.”
“Niall!” Zayn gasps on offense, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

“You weren’t going to tell me? One of your closest friends?”
“You know I love you Zayn, but you have a big mouth.”
“I promise I won’t tell anyone, damn.” Zayn defends, sounding slightly

offended. “But seriously...which intern? Just curious.”
“Wesley.” Louis tells him, still extremely lost about how that managed
to happen in the first place.
“Nice. She’s hot, bro. Like that kind of nerdy, but illusive and yet still
sexy kind of hot.” Zayn describes causing Niall to just sigh heavily
again. “I didn’t think you were the type to prey on interns?”
“I didn’t prey on her—it just happened!” Niall tries, clearly

exasperated. “I don’t know!”
“You don’t know?” Louis frowns, narrowing his eyes as he waits for
Niall to explain.
“No, I was drunk? Well sort of—not really.” Niall goes back and forth
with himself, swaying on his feet. “I stayed at the bar after you guys
last night and she was there and we were talking and drinking, but
mostly talking and I don’t know…”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Stop saying that!” Zayn bursts.
“What happened after the bar? Details Horan! We need details!”
“Ok, ok! So she came back to mine and—”
“Wait, you took her to your condo?” Louis interrupts in genuine

surprise. Niall has always been a private person; it’s takes a while for
him to open up to people which Louis could always relate to. So it’s
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kind of a big deal for him to be moving this fast with someone. “Just
like that?”
“I guess?” Niall shrugs bashfully.
“Niall, who are you?” Zayn gasps, looking Niall up and down like he
just met him. “I’ve never met this side of you before. I like it…”
“Shut up.” Niall laughs lightly, knocking his shoulder against Zayn’s.
“Ok, so you had sex and she left or you had sex and she stayed?” Louis
asks next, getting back on topic. “Because those are two completely
different things.”
“Facts.” Zayn concurs right away. “Also, for clarification, she could
have stayed and had more sex or stayed and cuddled and talked about
childhoods and deep dark secrets and shit, which is also not even close
to the same.”
“Ooh, you’re so right, Z.” Louis nods in agreement.
Niall shifts his gaze back and forth between them, biting his lower lip.
“So! Which is it?” Zayn presses.
“...She stayed...” Niall starts sheepishly.
“And?”
“She stayed and we cuddled and talked...”
“Oh my god…” Louis breathes, rubbing his temples as he walks in a

small circle.
“Whoa man...whoa...” Zayn awes, holding his hands up. “You know
what Liam would say if he were here right now?”
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“What?”
“Niall Horan!” Zayn snaps, mocking Liam’s disapproving tone. “That

girl is only 2 years old, how dare you take advantage of her! You’re a
grown man!”
“First of all, she’s 25 and I didn’t take advantage of her, she came over
because she wanted to come over.” Niall defends. “Second of all...holy
shit that really sounded like Liam’s voice. That’s amazing, Zayn.”
“He’s like, my husband or whatever.” Zayn shrugs, grinning. “I know

him.”
Liam absolutely despises all intern/attending relationships, claiming

that it makes the playing field uneven and confuses things—and it’s
not like he’s wrong. They’re both adults, but in two different circles of
life, Niall is essentially her boss for fucks sake.
“So back to Charlie, do you like her or something— you have to like
her.” Louis assumes, processing for himself without Niall’s input. “I
don’t even remember the last time you brought anyone who wasn’t
one of us to your place.”
“I don’t know, I told you it just sort of...happened. I mean I do like

her, she’s really cool and smart and easy to talk to—like, relatable you
know?” Niall rambles, something he hardly ever does. “She grew up
in Chicago, but she went to UC San Diego for med school…which is
kinda cool cuz I grew up in San Diego and—”
“I didn’t ask for her whole life’s story.” Zayn stops him mid sentence.
“I get it, ok? She’s cool and you like her. Wonderful.”
“But Niall, she’s an intern...” Louis reminds, not that he disapproves

or anything. He only wants what’s best for his friend. “I mean it’s fine,
complicated—really fucking complicated…but fine...”
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“I know, I know.” Niall sighs heavily, looking horribly conflicted. “I
never do things like this—you guys know that. I don’t know what I
should do…”
“What do you want to do?” Zayn asks.
“See her again...” Niall admits after a beat.
“Good, because here she comes.” Zayn nods his head behind Niall
where Charlie is approaching from the elevators.
“Shit.” Niall groans, as he glances behind his shoulder to see her.

“Zayn, please don’t—”
“Hey there, Dr. Wesley!” Zayn grins enthusiastically, looking her up

and down like he knows exactly what she was up to last night, which
he does. Niall already looks positively mortified standing next to him.
“Erm hi...uh Dr. Malik…” Charlie blinks slowly, briefly making

unsettled eye contact with both Louis and Niall.
“So I heard you went to UCSD…how’d you like that good ole
California sun?” Zayn asks with a knowing smirk, obviously eluding to
Niall, instead of the actual sunshine in Southern California.
“I uh...um…” Charlie’s cheeks flush immediately as she adjusts her

glasses, trying to respond normally, but failing for the most part. She
glances at Niall, sending out some kind of distress signal with her eyes.
“Erm, Dr. Horan, can I talk to you for a minute please—for a uhm
consult…”
Niall nods his head far too many times, far too fast. “Yes—yeah. Sure.
I’m coming, one sec.”
“Consult…” Zayn cackles to himself, giving Niall a knowing look as

he licks his lips.
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“God, you’re the fucking worst.” Niall hisses under his breath, glaring
at Zayn before chasing after Charlie.
“100 bucks says they start dating in two months.” Zayn says to Louis,
leaning back against the ledge as he watches the attending and intern
pair walk off together.
“Please, $150 says it’ll happen within a month.” Louis counters

confidently.
“Wow, you think so?” Zayn asks in surprise, offering Louis a hand to
shake. “I’ll take those odds.”
Louis shakes his hand happily. “Alright and 200 bucks says they fuck
in an on-call room and Liam walks in on them.”
Zayn doubles over laughing. “Honestly, I will personally make sure

that happens.”
Louis snickers along with him. “And then we can use the money to go
out to a nice dinner and laugh about it all night.”
“Fuck yes, bro.” Zayn high fives him. “It’s a date.”
||☤||
“Psst!”
Louis furrows his eyebrows at the sound, lifting his head up and
looking around the floor. It doesn’t take long for him to notice Avery
through the window of her room making cute little faces at him to get
his attention. Louis makes a show of looking around behind him
theatrically, as though he doesn’t know who exactly she is trying to talk
to.
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Avery waves her hands at him even more, practically jumping right of
her hospital bed.
“Me?” Louis mouths dramatically, pointing to his own chest in

question.
Avery nods happily with a wide smile, beckoning him to come to her
room. And Louis can’t quite say no to that—she’s way too cute and
she knows it.
“Hi Louis!” Avery beams excitedly, waving both her hands at him the
very second he walks in.
“Hello there, little love.” Louis laughs, endeared. He glances around

the room briefly. “Are you still all by yourself?”
“Yes. Jesse is supposed to be keeping me company because my Daddy

had to go to work.” Avery explains, sounding a bit sad. “But Jesse just
left me with a coloring book and crayons from the gift shop.” She
glances down at the items on her tray table in distaste, looking
absolutely bored by them.
Louis crosses the room to sit next to her on the side of the bed. He
flips through the array of brand new coloring books curiously. “These
aren’t so bad.”
“Coloring is such a babyish thing to do. It’s like he thinks I’m 4 or

something. I’m grown. I’m eight and a half. Basically nine, which is
basically ten. I’m nearly a decade.” Avery emphasizes, seeming so proud
of her alleged old age.
Louis smirks, nearly rolling his eyes at the eight-year-old. “Well I’m
a real grown up, a little more than three decades old and I love
coloring.”
“Really? You do?”
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“Mhmm.” Louis hums nodding his head. “I think it’s really fun. It’s
cool because there are so many different ways the picture can come
out, right? And it’s all up to you and how you’re feeling to make it
come to life.”
“Maybe I’d have more fun if you colored with me?” Avery suggests
shyly, peeking up through her lashes. “But you don’t have to—you’re
probably busy with…doctor things and you’ve probably wasted
enough time with me today already. Never mind. It’s ok.”
Louis knows how terrifying this must all be for a little kid. Hospitals
are scary places to be, everything is uncertain and it’s hard to know
what exactly is going on because usually everyone who comes into her
room is talking about her, but not actually talking to her, making for a
very lonely day. And not having her dad with her today can only be
making it worse.
Louis picks up the closest book, flipping through the colorless pages
before deciding on one. “How about we do this one together?”
Avery happily beams that signature heart stopping smile, precious

dimples digging deep against her small cheeks as her whole face lights
up.
And so they color and they laugh and they start to get to know each
other a bit better. Well, Avery does most of the talking, she’s got a real
mouth on her, just like her mother. Avery tells Louis all about the
plights of second grade, riddling off facts about her favorite subjects
and giving Louis a complete synopsis on each one of her classmates at
school. But she only has the nicest things to say about everyone and it
seems as though she’s somehow made friends with the entire school,
despite having just started there this school year. Louis isn’t really
surprised though, Avery’s such a genuinely sweet and charismatic girl,
it’s no wonder everyone already loves her.
Louis listens intently to all her many stories and he dutifully answers
all her many random questions that pop into her head from time to
time. “If animals just started talking one day, which ones do you think would be
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the nicest and which ones do you think would be grumpy meanies?” Or “Why are
fun sized candies called fun sized when they’re really tiny? It would be way more
fun if they were huge or something, don’t you think so, Louis?” Or the one that
really made Louis laugh because who thinks of these things: “On the
whole entire earth, do you think there’s more leaves or more blades of grass? Or
maybe it’s a tie? I think it’s a tie.”
The sheer oddity and utter randomness of her questions instantly

reminds Louis of Harry and all his quirkiness and Louis thinks the two
of them must have so much fun together.
Louis’ pager goes off while they are working on coloring in their fourth
picture together, the time having flown by without him realizing it.
“Why does it go off randomly like that?” Avery asks curiously. “What
does it mean?”
“It means that somewhere in this hospital, someone needs me right

now.” Louis tells her as he slides off the bed to his feet, stretching a
bit.
“Ooh, you’re a super hero.” She beams up at him.
Louis chuckles, shaking his head. “Not quite.”
“Well you are to me.” Avery decides, lips still pulled to a smile.
Louis smiles back softly. “Promise you’ll finish our last picture, Aves?”
“Of course!”
“Ok good, I wanna see it later when it’s all done.” Louis tells her
seriously as he moves towards the doorway.
“Wait, Louis?” Avery sits up, calling his name tentatively.
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“Yes, love.” Louis pauses, looking over his shoulder.
“Thank you for keeping me company today.” Avery says

appreciatively, grinning.
At the start of the day, Louis vowed that spending time with Avery
was the one thing he wasn’t going to do. But even still, now that he’s
gotten to know her a bit, gotten to see just how lovely she is, Louis
doesn’t regret a single thing.
“Anytime, Aves.”
||✚||
Harry rushes straight from work back to the hospital, wanting nothing
more than to be with his daughter. She’s been running through his
thoughts all day and he could hardly focus on anything but how Avery
might be doing. At least Harry can take some comfort in knowing that
she’s not completely alone because Jesse promised to stay with her
until Harry got back.
“Avie, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Harry apologizes instantly, as he

hurries into Avery’s room to find her all by herself. He frowns, looking
around the room in disappointed confusion. “Where is Jesse?”
“Not here.” Avery shrugs indifferently, hardly lifting her head from
the tray table she’s coloring on.
“Oh baby, were you all by yourself all day?” Harry worries, filling with
a guilt he can’t control as he crosses the spans of the room to sit down
next to her. He wraps an arm around her small frame, kissing the top
of her head. “I’m really sorry, Munchie. I wanted to be here.”
Harry couldn’t blow off his huge client two days in a row and although
he’s putting in a leave request with Adam, he isn’t in a place financially
where he can just stop working all together and stay by his daughter’s
side. Harry hates that he hasn’t been here with her. He absolutely hates
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it. But he has to work. He is her only parent and she relies on him, but
it’s so hard to be everything at once. Provider, caretaker, father, the list
goes on.
It’s a bit easier when she’s at school, that way he’s not missing out on
anything while he works. Harry only works so hard because he wants
to be able to provide for his daughter. He wants to be able give her
everything she ever wanted. Avery doesn’t have a mother and that
already comes with enough hardship; Harry just wants her to be happy.
Harry makes good money now, but with the house he just bought and
the tuition for the private school Avery loves and now with all her
medical bills, he can’t stop putting in the hours. Insurance only covers
so much and after her surgery, she’s still going to need rounds of
treatments and medications. Even though all he wants is to be with
her, Harry knows something has to be sacrificed, so he can take care
of her.
“It’s not your fault, Daddy.” Avery tells him understandingly, hugging
his side with both of her arms. “And I wasn’t by myself. Louis kept
me company.”
“Louis? You mean, Dr. Tomlinson?” Harry corrects her.
“He said I can call him Louis, Daddy.” Avery explains adamantly,
looking up at him. “We’re friends now!”
Harry raises his eyebrows in surprise. Obviously he missed a lot today.

“Friends?”
“Mhmm. And we had lots and lots of fun together. See, look! We made
this and this and this.” She proudly spreads out the beautifully colored
lined images for Harry to see.
“Oh wow, they’re gorgeous, Avie!” Harry awes as he looks over them.
“You did such a good job, Munch.”
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“Thank you! Louis colored in all the teeny tiny parts because he has
very steady hands and he didn’t mess up or go outside the lines.” Avery
chatters, talking animatedly with her hands as she always does when
she’s excited. “Even though he said he really likes coloring outside the
lines, but I said he’d ruin the whole picture if he did that, so he
promised he wouldn’t. And this one is his favorite because Louis said
it reminds him of his dog.” Avery shows him a colored in picture of a
big eyed puppy that looks a lot like a certain English Springer Spaniel
mix. “And you’ll never guess what his dog’s name is!”
Oh, Harry is pretty sure he could guess. “What is it?”
“Benedict!” Avery tells him, smiling wide. “Isn’t that a funny name for
a dog?”
“Yeah, I guess it is…” Harry agrees slowly, trying not to think about
it too hard. “Well I’m glad you had fun today, Avie.”
“Me too.” Avery smiles happily. But her smile turns questioning as she
tilts her head at him curiously. “Daddy?”
“Yeah, Munchie?”
“Today Louis told me that he knew you a long, long time time ago...”
“Did he?”
“Yes and he said he knew me too.” Avery frowns, expression riddled

with confusion. “If that’s true…why haven’t I ever seen him? Why
aren’t you friends anymore?”
Harry has been dreading this question with every cell in his body. He
hoped that maybe he could skirt around it, that by some small miracle
the past would stay in its rightful place—in the past. But of course, that
is never the case.
242
He hasn’t truly had a real conversation with Louis since Avery was
diagnosed, sticking only to speaking about her treatment and medical
plans. Truthfully, Harry doesn’t know what to say to Louis after all
these years. There is a whole world between them now. He was
relieved when Louis cut him off in the elevator, not because he didn’t
want to get to know Louis again and try to smooth things over, but
because he didn’t know what to say or how to approach this delicate
situation.
Harry clears his throat, not meeting her eyes. “Well uh…sometimes
things happen, Avie and…um...”
“Like what? What could happen that would make you not want to be
friends with Louis anymore?” Avery persists. “He is really nice, Daddy.
And he’s so funny…I like him.”
“Yes, he is...” Harry answers briefly, lowering his head.
i’ll always be glad i met you
“I can’t imagine being friends with Louis and then not anymore. I’d
be sad.” Avery continues.
Harry just nods slowly, feeling a familiar heaviness slink over his
shoulders. Leaving Louis is something Harry has to try hard not to
think about. He doesn’t talk about it, he doesn’t go anywhere near that
entire time period in his mind. Harry knows he was never meant to
stay with Louis, it was never meant to be a permanent situation and
eventually he overstayed his welcome. He didn’t want to hold Louis
back, he didn’t want—well, it doesn’t matter what he wanted now, it’s
in the past.
“Then why aren’t you friends?” Avery presses again.
It’s such an innocent question, asked so easily. But the answer isn’t so
easily given, the answer isn’t nearly as innocent. It’s a dark stain, a deep,
poorly healed scar that would easily bleed again if aggravated.
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Harry lifts his head and forces himself to smile at his daughter, tracing
the side of her face. “You’re a very curious little Aviebug, but some
things don’t always have an answer, baby.”
“Why not?” Avery wonders further. She can be so persistent and

stubborn sometimes and it’s not lost on Harry where she got that
from.
“They just don’t, Avery.” Harry answers in a way that is meant to end
this conversation for good. “You know what, how about we finish
coloring, ok?”
“Ok.” Avery nods, dropping the topic for now and returning her
attention to her open coloring book.
Harry colors with her for an hour, but Avery falls asleep soon after,
her pre-op and pain medication making her drowsy. Harry stays in the
room with her, content to sit and watch her sleep from the chair next
to her bed.
Jesse comes back to the hospital around six, dutifully bringing his
fiancé dinner and Harry steps out into the hallway to meet him.
Harry forgoes greeting him properly, far more interested in where

Jesse has been and why he left Avery to fend for herself all day. “Jes,
why did you leave Avery alone today?”
“And hello to you to, babe.” Jesse kisses him lightly, knowingly
avoiding the question.
“I’m serious, Jesse.” Harry looks at him expectantly. “You told me that
you were free today and that you could stay with her until I got back.”
“Yes and I absolutely meant that when I said it, but I had no other
choice—my office called and I couldn’t stay. I just started working
with this firm, it’s not like I have much leeway.” Jesse explains. “And
244
I mean, it’s also not like I left her completely alone, she’s in a building
full of doctors. She was fine.”
“She’s a child, Jes. She’s scared enough as it is and she should at least
be able to have a familiar face with her to make her feel better. I just…”
Harry sighs, dragging both hands through his hair.
“Hey look Harry, I’m really sorry. You’re right, I wasn’t thinking.”
Jesse apologizes, pulling Harry into a hug that he desperately needs. “I
shouldn’t have left her, especially not without letting you know. I’m
sorry, babe. Don’t be mad at me.”
Harry nuzzles his head down, sighing heavily. “I’m not mad…I just…I
hate that I wasn’t here. I hate that I wasn’t with her today. I wish I
never had to leave her…”
“You’re doing the best you can, Harry.” Jesse says, rubbing his back.
“That’s all you can do.”
Harry nods slowly, but truly he feels like bursting into exhausted tears
because his best isn’t always good enough. And no matter what he
does, he always feels like he isn’t doing enough for his daughter. But
Harry has no earthly clue how to make it better all on his own.
He has Jesse, which helps of course, but there are times when Harry
would rather not admit his own defeat. Ever since his sister died, Harry
hardly ever lets his walls down for anyone, not even his fiancé. Harry
always maintains the image that he’s doing ok, that his life is going
according to plan and everything is fine and dandy.
But it almost never really is.
||✚||
“So you really don’t want me to cut my hair?” Harry asks Avery.
They’ve been going back and forth about this since she woke up from
her nap. He was 100% serious when he told her he would shave it off
245
the first time; he was thinking about cutting and donating his hair
anyway.
Since Avery’s surgery is only minimally invasive, isolated to one section

of her brain, she doesn’t have to shave her entire head, only a small
portion. But the chemotherapy will eventually make her hair thin and
fall out, so she decided that she wants all of her long, chocolate colored
hair cut while it’s still healthy so she can donate it to another little girl
who needs it. It was one of the kindest things Harry has ever heard
and he can’t say enough how incredibly proud he is of his daughter.
“I don’t.” Jesse comments, running his fingers through Harry’s curls.

“I love your hair.”
Harry leans back into his touch, smiling. “Thanks, Jes.”
Jesse slips his hand from Harry’s lengthy hair to look down at his
buzzing phone. “Oh, I gotta take this. I’ll be right outside.” He kisses
Harry’s forehead before hurriedly exiting the room, leaving just Harry
and Avery to themselves.
Harry hops out of the chair he was sitting in and curls himself into the
hospital bed with his daughter. Avery repositions herself in his lap,
facing him. “So here’s what we’ll do Munchie, I’ll shave my head with
you and we’ll be twins. We can wear headscarves together and—”
“Daddy, I told you…you can’t be bald.” Avery shakes her head

repeatedly, disapproving of the whole idea. “Your head is too big.”
Harry gasps in surprise, jaw dropping as he laughs. “Avery Elliot

Styles!”
Avery giggles, holding his face with both of her small hands. “It’s true
and you know it.”
Harry grins. “Ok fine…I’ll leave an inch.”
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“Four inches.” Avery argues, staring him right in the eye.
“Two.” Harry counters.
Avery narrows her eyes, leaning closer. “Three.”
“Two.” Harry repeats.
“Two and a half.” Avery negotiates, gaze still scarily stern, but
impossibly endearing.
“Deal.” Harry smiles, he’s raising a very strong willed, opinionated

young lady. “I’ll keep two and half inches and the rest I’ll give to you.”
“No.” Avery defiantly shakes her head once.
Harry frowns, obviously missing something. “No?”
“If you’re going to cut it, then I want you to donate it, but not to me.”
Avery decides.
“What? Avery—”
“No Daddy, I don’t want it.” Avery refuses. “I want you to donate
your hair too and give it to some other sick little girl who really needs
it. We could help two people instead of just one.”
“Oh, sweetheart…” Harry tilts his head at her, never failing to be

touched by how genuinely good she is. Instead of choosing to help
herself, Avery would rather help someone she doesn’t know, who’s
facing the same scary thing she is, feel a little better.
“I don’t need it, Daddy.” Avery tells him confidently. “I’ll be ok

because I have you and your headscarves and I know you’ll still kiss
my head and tell me I’m beautiful everyday, even though I don’t have
my hair anymore.”
247
“You’re so beautiful, Avie.” Harry hugs her close, pressing kisses to
her head. “Inside and out, you’re beautiful.”
||☤||
Louis is standing at the nurses’ station, signing off on some overdue

charts and post-op notes from the day. Really, he needs to go home
and get some rest, he hadn’t meant to stay at work this long. Avery’s
surgery is scheduled for tomorrow—well actually, since it’s already
nearing one in the morning, it’d be more accurate to say that her
surgery is later today. Regardless, the fact remains that Louis needs to
go home and sleep for what little time he still can.
“Dr. Tomlinson?” A nurse calls from behind the counter.
“Yes?” Louis answers distractedly through a yawn, not lifting his head
as he continues to pencil in his final notes, trying to finish up.
“Patient in 5701 is asking for you.”
Louis snaps his head up, instantly recognizing the room number as he
knows it by heart. “Is she ok? Is she in pain?” He sets down his
charting tablet, closing his notebook without even thinking. He is
already walking away from the station towards the room when the
nurse answers him.
“Not that I’m aware of, Doctor. She’s just been asking for you
specifically.”
“Ok, thank you.” Louis calls behind him, fast walking down the hall.
The door to 5701 is already open, so he pokes his head into the room.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, Louis.” Avery apologizes profusely the
second she sees him. “I don’t mean to bother you, I feel like I’m always
stealing your time and I know you’re probably very, very busy with
tons and tons of sick people to help but…”
248
“Avery, what’s wrong, love?” Louis asks gently as he steps fully into
the room and walks over to the side of her bed, doing a quick review
of the monitors. “You aren’t in any pain are you? Do you have another
headache?”
“No, no, I’m ok.” Avery lowers her head, small hands wrung together
in her lap. She glances over at Harry fast asleep in the chair next to her
bed. “He’s tired. He was tired before I got sick and now...he’s so
worried and he doesn’t sleep much anymore and he’s finally asleep and
I didn’t want to bother him…but I…I just…”
Louis looks over at Harry briefly, and he looks exhausted even as he

sleeps, lines of worry deeply furrow his brow. Louis turns his attention
back to Avery, waiting for her to finish her thought. “You just what,
Aves?”
“I feel scared.” Avery admits quietly, her eyes are wide and so, so clear
as she gazes up at him.
Louis nods in understanding. Anyone would feel scared in a situation

like this and Louis can’t help but admire how incredibly brave she’s
been thus far. She’s taken everything like a trooper and not complained
a single time since she’s been here.
Louis bends down a little to meet her eye level. “You know what I do
when I feel scared?”
“What?” Avery asks through a whisper, eyes wide with curiosity.
Louis straightens up and walks back over to the door, peeking out the
hallway, before darting out into the hallway to steal an abandoned
wheelchair.
“How about we go on a little adventure and I’ll show you?” Louis

offers as he comes back in the room, a bit of a mischief in his eye.
Avery matches Louis’ smile, nodding her head silently.

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Louis carefully picks up her small body and places her gently in the
chair, draping Avery’s shoulders and legs with her favorite blanket
from home so she doesn’t get cold. It’s fuzzy and yellow and covered
in cute, animated ladybugs that Avery loves. Louis properly secures all
the vital wires and transfers her IV tubes to the pole attached to the
wheelchair.
Louis leans down to whisper. “Ready?”
“I’m ready!” She whispers back, twisting around a bit to peek up at

him.
“Ok, off we go!” Louis announces excitedly, although quietly, as not

to wake up Harry. He begins to roll the chair out of the room and
down the hallway, navigating to the elevator. They ride the lift all the
way to the very top, leading out to the helicopter pad on the roof.
Louis swipes his badge to unlock the restricted access door, pushing
Avery out into the open Seattle air.
The November chill rushes around them, the winds carrying on a bit
stronger at the higher altitude. The life of the city can be heard at a
distance, the thrum of bustling noise from the metropolitan area
surrounding the hospital echoes throughout the air. But yet, somehow
it’s still perfectly serene.
“You alright?” Louis walks around the stationary chair and kneels in
front of Avery, adjusting her blanket to snuggle the material around
her small body, making sure she’s completely covered up. “Are you
cold?”
Avery shakes her head, the only part of her that’s even visible after
being meticulously swaddled by Louis. “Nope, I’m doing good.”
“Ok, let me know if you feel lightheaded or cold or anything.” Louis

says as he stands back to his full height.
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Avery nods, glancing around the rooftop. “Louis, are we allowed to be
up here?”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Louis smiles mischievously, giving her a

wink and Avery just giggles.
They exist in silence for awhile, allowing the soft ambience in the air
and the mild glow of the moon to engulf them. It’s sometimes hard to
see the stars when the stark lights of the city seem to shine brighter,
but tonight, from up high on the roof, Louis can spot a few of them
peering through the night’s sky.
“When I get scared about something, I like to come up here.” Louis

starts slowly, staring out at the gorgeous Seattle skyline. “You see up
here…it’s like nothing can hurt you, no one can touch you and no one
can bring you down. You’re on top of the world. I come up here and
I shout out my fears—whatever they are. I yell them out into the open
so that they don’t have power over me anymore.” He explains, and it’s
odd because he’s never told anyone about this or brought anyone up
here. But Avery seems like she needs it just as much as he does.
“Looking out over all of this…I don’t know, it’s like my fears don’t
feel as big anymore…and it always makes me feel a bit more brave
somehow.”
Avery peeks up at him quietly, before settling her gaze back out over
the city in consideration.
Over the years, Louis has accumulated a lot of shit to scream about
and since he can’t cry—refuses to ever cry again, he screams. He
shouts and he yells and he screams. And honestly nothing compares to
the release and the rush of finally getting it all out in the open, cleansing
himself of all the things that hurt him more than his words could ever
properly say.
“Since you’re new at all this, I’ll go first.” Louis offers. “Sometimes, if
I’m really scared, I start off with little fears that don’t actually scare me
as much and build myself up. But no matter how hard it is to face my
real fears at first, I always feel better after I do.”
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“Really?” Avery questions hopefully, although slightly doubtful.
“Really.” Louis nods in genuine confirmation. “Ok so…here I go…”
Louis clears his throat dramatically, shaking himself out and stretching
as though he’s about to go on some sort of marathon. And of course
Avery giggles at how ridiculous he’s being, so naturally Louis gives her
another wink, grinning.
“I’m scared of needles!” Louis yells out into the night at the top of his
lungs before looking down at her.
“Louis that’s cheating, we already worked on that one.” Avery frowns,

shaking her head disapprovingly.
“Oh you’re quite right, yeah.” Louis chuckles as he nods slowly.

“You’re just too smart.”
Avery grins knowingly and this time it’s her who winks at him.
Louis knows he doesn’t have to fully reveal his true fears; Avery
wouldn’t know the difference anyway because she doesn’t know him
all that well. But for some reason, he decides to do it anyway, making
himself a bit more vulnerable.
He takes in a real breath this time, closing his eyes as he lets himself
identify his darkest edges. “I’m…I’m scared of getting hurt again…I’m
scared that my feelings will catch up to me…” Louis admits truthfully,
shouting out the words as best he can. “I’m scared of being alone…”
Avery reaches over and gently slides her hand into his, giving it a
reassuring squeeze. “You’re not.”
Louis holds her hand tighter, never wanting to let it go. And that, in
itself, sums up his greatest fears in one swoop. How can it be that in
approximately two days Louis has once again grown to love this little
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girl with his whole heart? Maybe because no matter how much it hurts,
you never really stop loving someone, even after they’re gone.
He takes another quiet moment to fully collect himself and settle his
breath before opening his eyes and bending down to her level. “Ok,
it’s your turn. Are you ready, love?”
Avery nods silently as she holds on to Louis’ hand. She looks nervous,
but her golden eyes express a sincere trust for him, like she knows
Louis would never do anything to hurt her.
“I’m scared of spiders…” Avery announces hardly a shout—hardly a

whisper.
“Oh, you can do better than that, Aves.” Louis encourages gently,
fingers still locked together. He runs his thumb over her hand
reassuringly. “Just let it all out. I promise the louder you shout, the
better you’ll feel.”
Avery closes her eyes just as Louis did earlier, inhaling deeply a few
times to herself. It’s a hard thing to do, Louis knows from experience;
it’s never easy to openly admit what scares you the most, not to
yourself and certainly not to someone else. “I’m afraid that my Daddy
won’t have anyone left if I die…” She forces herself to shout, her eyes
squeezed shut even tighter than before. “I’m scared he won’t be ok...”
The echo of her voice is slowly absorbed by the wind, words carried
off in the breeze. Louis gazes at the profile of her face, feeling so much
for her. She’s got such a big heart, an incredibly brave, beautiful
heart. She’s just a child, an innocent child facing cancer, brain cancer
at that. She’s got a surgery to cope with and rounds of treatments after
that and yet her fears are not even for herself. They’re for her father.
“How do you feel?” Louis wonders softly after a few quiet beats.
“Better.” Avery nods slowly, seeming to assess her feelings as she

opens her eyes again. “A lot better actually.”
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Louis’ face spreads into a smile. “See, I told you. It works every time.”
Avery turns her her head towards him. “You know a lot of things,
Louis.”
“Not that many things, I’m afraid.” Louis laughs a bit as he rights
himself. “We should probably get you back before someone calls a
Code Purple or something.”
“What’s a Code Purple?” Avery wonders as Louis starts to wheel her

chair towards the door.
“A missing child alert.”
Avery laughs a little at that, tilting her head backwards to look up at

him. “But you’re my doctor, I’m safer with you than with anyone else.”
“That may be true, but you going missing is still ground for alarm.”
Louis explains. “I could get in serious trouble with the nurses.”
“All the nurses love you, I don’t think you’d get in trouble.” Avery
denies confidently.
“Not true.” Louis frowns with a shake of his fringe.
“Mhmm.” Avery nods seriously. “I sat here all day, I’ve heard them,
they love you. And they think you’re cute.”
“Well then we’ve got to get you back in one piece so I don’t lose my
reputation.” Louis teases, smiling. “I’ve always wanted to be cute.”
Avery giggles happily and it’s nice to see her back to her usual smiling
self. Louis starts to push her towards the roof door, until Avery speaks
up again. “Louis, thank you for sharing your special place with me. I
really do feel a lot better.”
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Louis places a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Of course, Aves. Of
course. There is no one I’d rather share it with.”
And that is the truth, Louis always felt a special connection with Avery
when she was a baby and it seems that despite the horrible distance
between them for so many years, that connection was never fully
severed.
Louis pushes Avery through the deserted hospital halls back to the
surgical floor. But as they approach her room, it seems Louis was right
about people becoming worried over her undisclosed whereabouts.
Not so much the nurses though, mainly Harry.
“Avery! Where were you, baby?” Harry rushes frantically towards her,
kneeling down in front of Avery’s chair. “I…I nearly had a panic
attack—I woke up and you were…I mean y-you weren’t…”
Louis opens his mouth, ready to take full responsibility for what
happened until the little girl in the wheel chair beats him to it.
“I just wanted some fresh air, Daddy.” Avery tells her father gently.
“Louis offered to take me, I’m ok. I’m fine.”
Harry leans in to embrace Avery in an impossibly tight hug and Louis

can see the relief physically flooding his features as he closes his eyes.
“You’re ok…”
Avery squeezes him back, whispering against his cheek. “We’re ok,
Daddy. We’re ok.” She soothes, arms wrapped around Harry’s neck.
“I’m right here.”
Who knows what had gone through Harry’s head when he woke up to
find his daughter missing from her bed. Considering what he bore
witness to in the past, his panicked, completely unnerved reaction only
makes sense.
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“I’m sorry, Harry.” Louis offers at a distance, not trying to intrude on
their moment. “It was completely my fault—I didn’t mean to worry
you. I would have asked, but…you were asleep and—”
Harry stands to his full height again, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine
Louis—thank you for taking her. I just overreacted is all.”
“I understand.” Louis says simply, moving to help get Avery settled

back into her bed. He reconnects the heart monitor and reattaches a
pulse oximeter to her index finger, before rehanging her IV fluids. And
when he’s all done, Louis gives Avery a little smile, waving at her
silently before he heads for the door.
“Hey Louis?” Harry calls him by his first name and it instantly sparks
something awful in Louis’ heart. Hearing Harry simply call his name
with such ease and familiarity, practically pins Louis against the wall.
The stance of his frame is open and approachable as he walks towards
Louis by the door. “Do you think that maybe we—”
“I actually have to go um check on my post-op patients from earlier

today—sorry.” Louis brushes him off with a lie, quickly turning on his
heel before Harry can say anything further. He doesn’t want to hear
what Harry has to say and he doesn’t want to open himself up to the
possibility of getting to know Harry in the slightest.
Louis is here for Avery and only Avery. He is already too involved with
her as it is, growing more attached to her with each passing moment
and he can’t allow himself to get attached to Harry again too. He can’t.
Because Louis knows, more than he knows anything else, that he

wouldn’t survive it.
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CHAPTER 4
feel it tremble.
||☤||
Avery’s surgery goes without a single hitch. It was a lengthy procedure,

just over eleven hours long, but it went without a single complication,
which is as good as it gets when it comes to brain surgery.
Surprisingly, Louis wasn’t as nervous as he thought he’d be going into

it. Once he got into the O.R., his mind worked in accordance with his
steady hands, performing the tumor resection just as he has dozens of
times before.
Harry was though, he was a total nervous mess from the moment
Louis and Charlie came to prep Avery for surgery. Avery asked Louis
to do the honors of completely shaving her head after it’d already been
cut short for donation and Louis repeatedly told her how badass and
bloody brave she looked—except he obviously didn’t use those exact
words. But he just wanted to make sure she felt as fearless and brave
and supported as possible before her surgery. And Harry clearly felt
the same way because he cut his gorgeous long hair short and donated
it along with her, standing in solidarity with his daughter.
Avery teased him relentlessly about his haircut, but Harry didn’t seem
to mind in the slightest, more so happy that Avery was still in such
good spirits before the procedure. But despite Avery’s positivity, Louis
could tell that Harry was still battling overwhelming amounts of
anxiety, biting his nails and pacing the entire time Avery was being
prepped.
So during the procedure Louis made sure to send Charlie out to give
Harry and Jesse updates every single hour, hoping that it would ease
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Harry’s rising fears. But Harry didn’t actually take a breath of relief
until the surgery was over and Louis came out to tell him that
everything had gone smoothly.
Harry thanked Louis incessantly, probably saying the most he’s ever
said to Louis in all this time, even though his entire speech was
basically composed of the same two words said all types of ways. Harry
even followed up his repeated thank you’s with an appreciative hug—
or he tried to. But Louis did not want to be reminded of what it felt
like to be wrapped in Harry’s arms, fearing that he wouldn’t know how
to let go, so Louis offered a distant handshake instead.
That night, Louis stayed at the hospital to monitor Avery’s levels

overnight just to be safe. He could have made Charlie or any other
intern do it, but Louis wanted to be there for Avery so he stayed. And
by the next morning, Avery was awake once again, groggy and tired,
but well on her way to recovery.
“Dr. Wesley, please present the case.” Louis requests during Avery’s
first post-op review since she woke up.
Harry sits in the chair by her bed, looking utterly exhausted, yet there
are clear signs of relief flooding his features. Louis knows Harry didn’t
sleep much last night, spending most of the night pacing the empty
halls or simply sitting quietly by Avery’s side waiting for her to wake
up. Louis carefully avoided speaking to him though, making sure to do
his hourly vitals check whenever Harry wasn’t in the room.
Charlie clears her throat before speaking. “Avery Styles, eight years
old, post-op craniotomy tumor resection. Dr. Tomlinson was able to
remove the mass from Avery’s brain successfully, achieving clean
margins as evidenced by her most recent scans taken this morning. She
was closely monitored through the night and showed no signs of
complications. All cognitive functions are normal, audiovisual
complexes are intact as well as motor and speech capacities.”
“Fantastic. And how do we proceed from here?” Louis asks next,

watching Charlie.
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“Chemotherapy.” Charlie promptly responds. “Avery will need to be
monitored through biweekly checkups during the extent of her
methotrexate treatment as a precaution.”
“Very good.” Louis nods before turning to smile at Avery. “And how
are you feeling today Aves, my bravest patient ever?” He sits on the
bed next to her, checking the thick bandage around her head.
“I’m good.” She answers quietly, holding on to her father’s hand

weakly on her opposite side. “My head feels a little weird, but…I’m
ok.”
“Any pain?”
“Nope...” Avery smiles as best she can at him, although she’s clearly
drained. “No pain.”
“Good.” Louis smiles back, before turning back to Charlie. “Dr.

Wesley, monitor her morphine drip and do a full neural exam every
two hours for the rest of the day.”
“Yes, sir.” Charlie nods, noting Avery’s chart.
“Ok Aves, I’ll see you later ok?” Louis says to Avery, standing from
the bed. “You’re doing so great, I’m so proud of you. Get some rest.”
“Bye Louis…” Avery whispers, heavy lids already weighing her eyes
closed.
“Bye love.” Louis waves his fingers, grinning one last time before
heading out of the room. But he doesn’t get very far before he hears
his name being called from the same direction he just left.
“Louis?”
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Louis pauses, but doesn’t immediately turn around because of course
he recognizes the voice and of course he doesn’t want to speak to the
person who owns it.
“Louis? Come on, are you really going to keep ignoring me?” Harry
wonders and his voice is softer than usual, or maybe that’s only in
Louis’ head.
“What? I’m not?” Louis gradually turns around, feigning innocence as

he pulls a frown. “Why would I ignore you?”
“Louis.” Harry says flatly, seeing right through him like he always
does—did. “I mean, you can’t keep this up forever.”
yes, i can...
Louis looks at Harry blankly, having nothing at all to say to him. Harry
is wrong, Louis can and he will continue to avoid him as much as
humanly possible. Louis will bend over backwards and jump through
every fucking hoop if it means he has a chance at sparing himself any
potential heartache.
“Can I at least take you out to dinner?” Harry continues after a beat,
not letting the conversation die out as he maintains eye contact. “As a
thank you. You know, for everything you’ve done for Avery.”
“No need to thank me, Harry. I’m just doing my job.” Louis replies
curtly, starting to move backwards. “A verbal thank you is thanks
enough.”
“Yeah, I know but—well it would give us a chance to…maybe...catch

up? I don’t know? I just…” Harry’s voice drops off as he gazes at
Louis openly, concealed emotions peeking through. It’s a look that
expresses far too much, it feels heavy and intimate, laden with years of
pent up feelings that have no business out in the open and it makes
Louis’ skin burn.
260
“You’re engaged, Harry.” Louis reminds rather flatly. It comes out a
little harsher than he meant it, but it’s true. Harry is engaged, that’s just
a fact. Anything that went on or didn’t go on in the past, needs to
remain in the past. Louis is not ready to wrestle those demons. Before
Harry showed up again, Louis was just starting to feel marginally ok.
He was just starting to feel like he had somewhat of a handle on his
emotions and now Harry is threatening to unravel all of that with just
one charged look.
“I know that.” Harry nods his head as he awkwardly scratches at the

back of his neck. There’s a conflict oscillating in his tone that Louis
doesn’t quite know what to make of. “But that doesn’t mean—I don’t
know? That we can’t be friends? You can’t tell me that you hate me
that much.”
i don’t want to be friends with you
“I—I don’t hate you...I’ve got a lot of patients to see and post-op notes
to write and…uh…work—I just have a lot of work to do.” Louis trips
over his words, scrambling to make his excuse sound more legitimate
than it actually is. Of course he has work to do, he always does, but
Louis could fit Harry into his schedule if he really wanted to.
“I get it.” Harry nods once with what looks to be genuine

disappointment. “It’s fine…just—forget I asked.”
And now why does Louis feel guilty? He owes Harry nothing. Not a
damn thing. He hasn’t forgotten how their twisted relationship ended.
The fact of the matter is: Harry left him. No one forced him to go, no
one held a gun to his head. Harry left him all on his own volition and
essentially disappeared off the face of the earth. And Louis can’t begin
to pretend that it didn’t fuck him up in more ways than one.
But maybe this could be the chance to finally get the closure Louis is
rightfully entitled to. Maybe he can finally have a real chance at moving
on from this entirely, putting to rest any lingering feelings or animosity
between them.
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“But erm...” Louis starts up suddenly, causing Harry to pause before
walking away. “I guess... I might be able to squeeze in coffee?”
Harry smiles, eyes brightening back up and for a moment he looks so

much like how he did on the grassy clearing in the middle of the
woods. Bright eyes, soft face, and the sweetest dimples. “Yeah, coffee
sounds great.”
“Ok…um there’s a new little cafe across the street with the best scones
in town.” Louis offers. “I’m free around two this afternoon, if that
works for you...”
“Ok yeah, that works.” Harry agrees, nodding easily.
“Ok…” Louis echos again, feeling an anxious thrum in the pit of his
stomach.
Coffee is good and safe. It’s unattached and uncommitted—perfectly

casual. A normal, easy coffee with an old friend—except Harry isn’t
exactly an old friend and this probably won’t be normal or anywhere
near easy. But it’s just coffee. And nothing bad can come out of coffee,
right? Right?
To be honest, at this point of his life, Louis is already expecting to be

proven wrong.
||☤||
“You look great by the way.”
His words immediately catch Louis off guard. They’ve just settled
down at small table near the back of the café, having each ordered a
hot drink and a baked good. Louis decided to forgo the coffee this
time in favor of hot tea and a blueberry scone. Harry chose a vanilla
latte and then asked Louis to pick a scone flavor for him. Something
that also caught Louis completely off guard because it’s something
Harry would have done years ago.
262
Harry was always asking Louis to pick something out for him, but then
he’d always end up stealing Louis’ instead. Eventually Louis would end
up ordering something he knew Harry would like for himself,
anticipating that Harry would steal it. And then Louis would order
what he really wanted for Harry, knowing that Harry was never going
to eat it anyway. It was complicated, but it was them.
But it’s not them anymore, that’s for sure. And Louis gets that Harry
is obviously trying to be friendly and everything, but they literally just
got here for fucks sake, so can he not? It’s awkward enough as it is.
“I mean uh since I last saw you um…well—you always look great.”

Harry continues, gaze purposely trained down on his chocolate chip
scone as he talks.
“Yeah, um...so do you.” Louis offers back cautiously. It’s weird that
they are doing this now. It’s fucking weird. They’ve been around each
other, avoiding each other's orbits all week long. And this is the first
time they’ve actually talked to each other as normal adults. Louis can
admit that it feels kind of nice. Familiar even. But still weird. “I guess
you’re not just hair.”
Harry laughs a little, dimples poking out as he touches a hand to his

freshly cut locks. “I was scared all my charm would be lost without it,
but Avery says I’m still cute.” He shrugs jokingly. “And her opinion is
the only one that matters.”
“She’s adorable…you’re doing such a good job with her.” Louis offers
lightly as he lifts his cup of tea.
Harry considers him for a moment as though gauging Louis’ statement

internally.
“I don’t mean that in a backhanded kind of way.” Louis clarifies before

Harry even replies. “I’m serious—she’s a really lovely girl.”
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“I don’t know how much of that is actually because of me, but…I love
her and she really is quite lovely. That’s my little Munchie.” Harry
smiles fondly and his dimples only get deeper as he speaks of his
daughter. His shortened curls flop adorably over his face, even though
he keeps running has hands through them out of habit, trying to get
them to stay in place like they used to.
And Louis can’t seem to tear his eyes away, finding himself as easily
enraptured by him as he was all those years ago. But he shouldn’t be—
he can’t be. It’s so odd how old patterns and buried thoughts can creep
back so easily into the mind, as though they never left. It’s even more
odd how easy it can be to alight a distant memory or kindle a warm
feeling about someplace or something or…someone, until utterly
consuming all the pathways of the brain like wildfire.
harry is with jesse, harry is with jesse, harry is with jesse
God—and it’s so frustrating because the last thing Louis wants to do

is open his mind up to even the slightest possibility of a friendly
relationship with Harry. Because all that would really serve to do is
remind his heart of all that could have been between them if things
had been different, if life had gone right for once.
Louis came here for closure and not a thing more. So he chooses to
repeat that same little four-word mantra in his head, screaming it in his
mind till it reverberates in his ears and overshadows any fond, warm
memories of the two of them he has left.
It’s fucking ridiculous that Louis needs a mantra in the first place—
why can’t he just move the fuck on like any other heartbroken person?
Why can’t he be genuinely happy for Harry and Jesse and not have to
fake it all the time? Sure, they have a history—a heavy, complicated
history, and yeah Louis still finds Harry just as physically attractive or
whatever, but Louis really thought that he’d done a pretty decent job
of laying these old feelings to rest. He thought that he killed them off
years ago, but how can that remain to be true if after only ten minutes
of interacting with Harry, he’s already being propelled right back.
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“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask but…how’s Benedict?” Harry
redirects the conversation, stirring his vanilla latte with a spoon.
“Oh um Benny, right yeah, he’s good. Yeah. Still such a cuddler.
Um…he’s a bit slower now, old age I suppose.” Louis smiles, fidgeting
with his own mug of hot tea. “But he still likes a good run.”
“Aww.” Harry smiles slowly, entire face going soft. “He’s such a good
dog. I miss him—” He catches his words, biting his lips awkwardly.
you wouldn’t have to miss him if you never left
“Yeah…” Louis breaks eye contact and focuses his attention

completely on his tea, taking a generous sip. This whole encounter is
moving from the realm of weird into downright uncomfortable.
A tense silence falls over them both and it’s painfully obvious that they
are both thinking about the same thing. This was a horrible fucking
idea; Louis should have never agreed to this in the first place. Some
things never need to be revisited and this is one of them.
“So! Eh…you’re a pretty big deal around here.” Harry pipes up again
with a new chipper to his tone, trying to bring the mood back to
positive for god only knows what reason. Louis is beyond ready to
leave, twitching to make up an excuse and bolt out of here.
“Well, you stay anywhere long enough and that’s what tends to
happen.” Louis shrugs, picking at his blueberry scone that he’s not
even hungry for.
“Oh, don’t be humble. I know you worked your ass off to get here.
The youngest Head of Neurosurgery Seattle has ever seen.” Harry
recites, grinning as he leans into the table.
“What? Did you google that?” Louis teases a little, breaking an entire
edge off of his scone.
265
“Maybe.” Harry smiles shyly, meeting Louis’ gaze in a way that feels
far too personal. He still has the softest eyes. Eyes that pay attention,
that see not just what is apparent on the outside, but what lies beneath.
And Louis can’t help but feel naked under his gaze. Exposed. “I always
knew you could do it, Lou.”
lou.
It sounds so normal and habitual, Louis almost welcomes it. It’s warm
and it’s gentle, falling from Harry’s lips as though he still has a reason
to say it all the time. It almost makes Louis forget that this isn’t even
close to a normal thing for them anymore.
This is weird. Horrifically weird, akin to insufferable. They are

pretending everything is fine and dandy, faking being civil when the
elephant is staring them right in the face. Louis has countless questions
he wants to angrily scream across the table until he’s blue in the face.
Starting with why the hell did Harry leave? Where did he fuck off to
for all this time? And why is he back in the city now? When did he get
engaged? When did he find it within himself to move on?
Harry is still looking at Louis with the same soft eyes and Louis can’t
even begin to describe how fucking unnerving it all is. And he sure as
hell doesn’t have the faintest idea how to react, so Louis ends up
settling for a reserved smile, remaining as distant as possible. “What
about you? I assume you’re making some kind of
living…somewhere…”
“Oh right—well, I don’t know if you remember…but my degree was

in—”
“Marketing.” Louis answers for him, the word falling out before he
could catch himself.
“Yeah…” Harry smiles slowly in surprise, nodding his head. “So um

when I...uh left Seattle—I ended up going into business for a buddy
of mine from school who started his own company in L.A. and he
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brought me on as a marketing consultant. I was there for a bit…which
was nice, I liked California—amazing weather, lovely people. But
anyway, we just opened a new firm in Seattle a few months back… so
here I am again. Never really thought I’d move back here again, but it
is what it is, I suppose.”
A few months. Harry has been back for months. Louis shouldn’t be
surprised, but somehow he is more so unnerved by the whole thing.
“I still have to go to L.A. sometimes here and there, but luckily Jesse
is really supportive and he helps out with Avery and everything.” Harry
continues, taking a light sip of his latte.
“Yeah, so um…Jesse is...nice…” Louis forces somewhat of a

smile. And by nice he means stale as fuck. Louis would rather watch
paint dry than talk to that man. “I mean—he seems great…really uh
great…”
Harry’s face colors up a bit as he drops his gaze down to his lap. “Yeah,
he is great—really great. I didn’t ask him to, but he moved to Seattle
just to be with me after he proposed. He’s a really sweet guy…we’re
good together.”
“When’s the wedding?” Louis once again forces himself to ask, trying
to add a cheerfully interested tone. Not that he cares. He doesn’t care.
He still isn’t sure why he’s still here entertaining this. The last thing he
wants to do is listen to Harry gush about some man who isn’t him.
“Um…I don’t quite know anymore?” Harry frowns in consideration.

“Before...um Avery was diagnosed, we were thinking about early next
spring. But I haven’t been doing much planning, so we may have to
push it back a bit—but we’re excited regardless.”
“That’s great.” Louis tries again, he’s starting to seriously hate that
word. Great. “I’m uh…I’m really happy for you. That you...erm—
found someone…”
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“Well, you did reject me.” Harry jokes—or at least Louis thinks he’s
joking. “Remember?”
Is he trying to be funny? How dare Harry make light of that night.

How fucking dare he. There were feelings, real feelings. Things
probably would have gone so much differently if they had slept
together the night Harry came into Louis’ room. But would it have
turned out better or just prolonged the enviable? The separation.
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Louis blurts out in offense, failing to

sever the tie between his thoughts and his mouth.
“No, I mean—”
“I…I didn’t reject you, Harry. I never wou—is that what you really
think?” Louis questions, feeling his skin grow hot as frustration builds
up inside him.
Harry looks back at Louis, searching his eyes. “That’s…what

happened...”
He can’t be serious. There is no way Harry is being serious right now.

He came to Louis in the middle of the night, drunk and crying while
repeatedly offering himself to Louis, and Louis chose to console him
instead of take advantage of him. Has Harry really erased the truth
from his mind so severely that he believes Louis didn’t want him at all?
Has he really resorted to lying to himself to mask the pain he must still
feel inside? Louis knows how pain can contort the mind, alter the
definition of reality so intensely that the real truth seems so abstract
and outlandish…but…seriously?
“No, it’s not…I—we were…I just didn’t want to be some sad

desperate shag that you’d want to forget in the morning…I wanted to
be…” Louis’ voice drops off, catching himself before he admits
something he might regret. He isn’t going there today.
“What?” Harry asks after a beat, eyeing him closely in confusion.

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Louis looks down and fiddles with his pager, pressing a few alarm
buttons to get it to go off manually. He can’t do this anymore. “Um, I
gotta go. Patient.” Louis replies briefly, quickly standing to his feet.
Harry frowns, looking up at Louis. “Wait, Loui—”
“I’m sorry, it’s urgent.” Louis lies tersely, just needing to get the fuck
out of here. This was such a bad idea and Louis knew that. He knew
that going into this. There are things he made himself get over, things
he has spent so much time trying to will himself to forget, force it into
nonexistence. But unlike Harry, it seems Louis is the only one who
truly remembers it accurately. “Um…this was…nice…great catching
up…” Louis forces himself to say in farewell, rushing the
noncommittal words past his lips and not even bothering to be all that
genuine about it. “Good luck with your um…wedding and everything.
See you at Avery’s next treatment. Bye.”
Before Harry can get another word in, Louis is making a mad dash for
the exit, striding as fast as his legs will carry him. He needs fresh air
more than anything right now—more so, Louis needs to get as far
away from Harry as possible right now so he can start to breathe again.
“I wanted to be…more.” Louis sighs to himself once outside the doors

of the cafe, finishing his previously open ended sentence. “So
much more.”
||✚||
Harry sits at the empty table, gazing down at Louis’ abandoned tea,
quickly going cold. He doesn’t quite know what just happened—he
surely hadn’t meant to offend Louis or furthermore cause him to bolt
out of the café as though his life vitally depended on it. That was
definitely not according to plan.
He was hoping that maybe they could be friends again, or at least

somewhat. But it seems like having this meeting only served to make
things even worse than before and Harry is still unsure as to why.
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There was a time when he and Louis were so close, probably the
closest Harry has ever been to another person apart from his sister.
They were once so at ease and comfortable with each other and now
the uneasy, charged strain between them holds them miles apart.
And it seemed like everything was going alright at first, as far as Harry
was concerned. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to act around Louis
anymore, but the conversation was going as well as could be expected
before Harry opened his big mouth and accused Louis of rejecting
him. Harry was only trying to be honest, but he meant it lightheartedly,
even though he knows as much as Louis that there was nothing
lighthearted about it.
It’s hard to remember everything clearly now, his memory is all so

foggy and tainted, it hurts to think about for too long, so he continually
avoids it. But he remembers Louis rejecting him, he remembers Louis
displaying his total disinterest in Harry by not even wanting to kiss
him. That night Harry was wasted enough to summon the courage to
put his jumbled feelings to good use and climb into Louis’ bed. He
hoped that maybe Louis wanted him as much as he did, and his hopes
were answered with rejection. He remembers it, he does. Yeah, he was
drunk—probably too drunk, but Harry knows that’s what happened.
It is—it has to be.
Harry also knows that the way he left Louis was abrupt and he didn’t
go about it the right way, but isn’t that what Louis wanted? To have
Harry gone and rid himself of that nuisance of a situation so he could
finally focus on the reason he’s in Seattle in the first place? All Harry
was doing was holding Louis back from his potential and Louis
probably couldn’t wait for Harry to take his problems out of his life.
He wasn’t good for Louis, he was a distraction that soon turned into a
burden and he had no other choice but to leave. It was better for the
both of them. They were never meant to last forever.
Nothing is.
||☤||
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The weeks fly by, blurring together as one. Harry brings Avery in twice
a week for chemotherapy treatment and Jesse usually never comes.
Louis can probably count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen
Jesse interact with Avery. There’s always some kind of excuse coming
out of his mouth about why he can’t stay or why he has to leave no
matter how much Harry begs him to stay.
And even Harry can’t always stay for every lengthy chemotherapy
appointment because of his job, but he tries his best. Louis can tell
how much Harry hates leaving his daughter and Avery always looks so
dreadfully sad when he’s not there, just sitting in a lonesome chair by
herself as her system is flooded with toxic drugs. So Louis makes a real
effort to visit her every time she comes in, sneaking down to
Immunology to sit with Avery and keep her company during her
treatments. He blocks out the time as best he can in his schedule,
carefully avoiding getting pulled into any last minute surgeries.
Avery loves when Louis hangs out with her, and Louis loves it too.
They talk about the most obscure things, whatever random ideas that
flit through Avery’s imaginative head. She’ll tell him wild stories that
she made up or sometimes Louis will tell her a story or two and they
almost always end up giggling incessantly with each other. Just about
everything that Avery says causes him to smile and their time together
easily becomes the highlight of Louis’ passing weeks.
But one day when Louis sits down in his usual chair by her side, he
notices that Avery doesn’t seem like her normal self. She smiles at him
of course, and she greets him as she always does, but her overall
demeanor is distant and downtrodden.
“Aves, are you ok?” Louis questions after observing her carefully over
the last ten minutes.
She nods slowly, but sighs a bit.
“Is it making you feel nauseous again? Do you need a bucket?” Louis
asks worriedly, moving to grab one anyway. There are some days when
Avery’s system completely rejects the treatment and all she can do is
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vomit up everything inside her. On those days, Louis rubs her back
gently and whispers soft comforts in her ear, hoping to make her feel
better in any capacity he can. It’s devastating to watch her suffer
through this, she takes everything so well in spirit, always putting on a
brave face even if her body can’t quite keep up.
Avery shakes her head no, meeting Louis’ eyes finally. “I don’t feel bad
today…”
“Then what’s wrong, little love?” Louis questions again, continuing to

rub her back anyway.
“I just…I heard some of the nurses talking about my mom—how nice

she was when she was here and a lot of them still remember her and
I…” Avery pauses and Louis notices the makings of tears welling up
under her eyes. “I don’t know anything about her… Daddy only tells
me some things, but he...well…he doesn’t really like to talk about her.”
She lowers her head sadly. “I think it hurts him too much. But
sometimes…I really wish he would because she’s a big part of me
and…I just…I wish I knew her...”
Hearing this from an eight-year-old hurts Louis, she sounds so much

older than her years and it’s so upsetting to listen to. Avery deserves
to know who her mother was, she deserves that connection with her.
Every time Louis looks at Avery he can see little pieces of Gemma in
her. Avery doesn’t just share her physical likeness, she has her mother’s
kind heart and fiery spirit and she doesn’t even know it.
“Oh, she was amazing…” Louis smiles gently, deciding right then and
there that if shining light on who her mother was will help Avery in
even the slightest way, he’ll do everything in his power to do just that.
“One of the best people I’ve ever met.”
“Really?” Her face immediately lights up as she looks up at him, eyes

practically begging him to say more.
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“Yes, absolutely.” Louis answers wholeheartedly, nodding his head. “I
was lucky enough to be one of her doctors when I was younger and
she was easily one of my best friends, I adored your mum.”
“What was she like?” Avery wonders in a quiet voice, further

confirming just how little she knows about Gemma.
“Oh, she was so many things. She was spunky—she spoke her mind
and she didn’t ever apologize for it, kinda like me... I think that’s why
we got along so well.” Louis smiles, thinking back on all his treasured
memories with Gemma. “And she was so brave and fearless. You
really couldn’t scare that girl, and if you did, she’d never let you know
it. And she was so hilarious, all she did was joke around about
everything. Your mum knew sarcasm very, very well.” He laughs
fondly, remembering all the late nights he spent in her room laughing
with her when he definitely should have been studying. “Oh! And she
was an absolute cheater when it came to card games, because no one
is that good. No one. I could never beat her at least, so obviously she
was cheating.”
Avery laughs, face melting into a fascinated smile as she listens to

Louis.
“She always reminded me of home—England. She was just so lovely

and warm…kindhearted…” Louis describes thoughtfully. “And she
was so beautiful, just like you—you look so much like her, Aves. It’s
incredible…” He awes, noting all the subtle features about Avery’s
face that uniquely link her to her mother. “I didn’t get to know your
mother for her whole life, I only got to know her while she was ill, but
I know she must have been even more amazing and lovely before. But
one thing you have to remember about her, the most important thing
of all is that she loved you so much.” Louis tells her strongly, looking
Avery right in the eye so she really hears him. “So, so much, Avery.
You were her miracle—it was nearly all she talked about. You meant
the absolute world to her. She fought as long as she possibly could for
you, to keep you safe. Before you were even born, her heart was
bursting with love just for you.”
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Avery looks at him with impossibly wide eyes like no one has ever told
her that before and it shocks Louis while simultaneously breaking his
heart again and again.
“You know what, Aves...I still have a picture of her.” Louis pulls out
his wallet, sliding out an old worn polaroid picture of Gemma pregnant
with baby Avery, Louis and Harry huddled together in the background.
“This was taken a few weeks before you were born. I wasn’t supposed
to be in the picture really, I was just meant to be changing out your
mum’s IV, but she said something ridiculous like ‘Oh, quit it Louis, I’m
dying anyway’ and she pulled me into the picture.” Louis smiles
gradually, remembering that day well, although so long ago. “Your
mum was amazing…I loved her and I always miss her.”
Avery holds the weathered picture in her hands gently, just staring
down at it in pure awe. Her little fingers touch over her mother’s face
as tears drop from her eyes. Louis wraps one arm around her
shoulders, hugging her to his side as she starts to cry.
“But I want you to have that.” Louis whispers to her, running his hand
up and down her side gently. She needs it far more than he does, she
needs something tangible to hold on to and Louis is more than happy
to give it to her.
Avery hugs Louis suddenly, pressing herself against his chest as both
of her arms encircle his waist. “Thank you, Louis…t-thank you so
much…”
Louis hugs her back tightly and his heart is physically sinking. This
poor girl is starving for clues about her history, about her mother,
about her life. Things she is entitled to know, but somehow has been
kept in the dark.
Has she really never been shown a picture of her mum this whole time?
How can Harry possibly justify that in her best interest? Louis
understands that it’s a sensitive topic for him, but he can’t just erase
Gemma completely from his life, it’s not at all fair to Avery. He truly
cannot believe how little she actually knows, practically nothing
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besides the bare minimum. And along with making Louis deeply sad
in every part of his heart, the realization flat out infuriates him.
||☤||
Louis should have done this before.
He should have thrown caution to the wind and spoken up about it at

the café, taken that moment to speak his mind once and for all. In fact,
Louis should have done this when he first reunited with Harry a month
ago. There’s no use holding on to it anymore, there’s no point in
pretending everything is fine. Nothing is fine.
Ever since his conversation with Avery an hour ago, Louis can’t shake
the unsettled feeling shrouding over him, looming above him like a
storm cloud set to strike. He can’t sit still, he can’t brush his loud
thoughts aside, he can’t distract himself, he’s in a escalating state of
unease.
Seeing that look on Avery’s face, filled with such sadness and
discouraged longing, sparked something in Louis, something he’s been
trying so hard to pretend didn’t exist. A dark mix of bitter resentment
brews inside him, renewed frustration and leagues of misplaced hurt
creep their way back to the forefront of his mind along with every last
emotion Louis has been forcing himself to swallow down since the day
Harry set foot back in his life.
Louis paces the foyer of the hospital, right outside the front doors,
strategically putting himself in a prime location to spot Harry in the
parking lot. He should be getting off of work and on his way here to
pick up Avery any minute and Louis is not going to let another day go
by without getting this off of his chest. God knows he has been
holding it in for far too long already.
Louis keeps a steady eye on the parking lot, tracking all the cars that
come and go, not chancing any thing. And like a fate Louis doesn’t
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believe in, Harry finally appears. Hopping out of his car and struggling
to get his umbrella open to combat the heavy night’s rain.
Louis doesn’t even have an umbrella on him, simply planning, as he

always does, to brave through it and hope for the best. Nothing could
stop him from doing this, not even the steady rain pelting his back as
he dashes through the parking lot.
“Harry!”
Yes, Louis could do this somewhere else, somewhere dry. Yes, he

could wait on a different day, maybe even a better day. The rain is
beyond relentless, but Louis doesn’t care. He has to do this now or
else he’ll go on regretting it forever and he can’t let that be an option
anymore.
Harry turns around slowly in confusion, trench coat clad, holding the
umbrella he finally got to function over his head. He looks around
trying to figure out where he heard the sound of his name until his
eyes lock on Louis, jogging up to him in a hurry.
“Louis, what ar—”
“Harry, I have to say this.” Louis rushes out before he loses his nerve,
before Harry can even think about asking him questions. “I know
you’re engaged and it’s been years…but I can’t keep walking the halls
of this hospital with ghosts following me around and this awkward
undefined tension between us. I can’t keep pretending like everything
is fine…so I have to say this.”
Harry remains silent, allowing Louis to speak his mind. His brow is
deeply furrowed, eyes confused, but still earnest.
Standing in front of Harry right now, Louis might as well still be that
intern standing on a curb willing himself not to break in half. Like
being right back at square one, he’s just as anxious as he was then, just
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as scared—he’s even just as wet, cold water already soaking through
the material of his lab coat and scrubs.
don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry
Louis forces himself to inhale a deep breath, steeling himself up for

the words about to come from his mouth, guarding himself against
whatever the blowout might be.
“I was in love with you, Harry.” Louis starts, steadily holding Harry’s
gaze. “All those years ago. I was…in love…”
Harry’s lips separate marginally as he sucks in the faintest gasp for air,
almost like he can’t quite get a full breath. He stares back at Louis at a
visible loss for words, mouth opening and closing, without any sound
escaping. Slowly he starts to shake his head as if he doesn’t believe
him, as if he can’t believe him. “But…b-but when I—when I
tried...that one night and you—” He rambles incoherently, dancing
around the subject. “I mean—you turned me down—”
“Only because I wanted to be more, Harry!” Louis shouts in the rain,

letting his frustration leak into his tone. He wipes the collecting water
from his dripping hair, entire body soaked. “I wanted—god, I wanted
to be more to you! I wanted to be everything! And I don’t think you
ever got that! I didn’t want to say no to you that night, saying no to
you and holding back was so hard for me and…and I’m always going
back and forth in my head about whether I made the right decision,
whether it would have made a difference…” He drops his head down
for a moment. “But I didn’t want you to wake up and feel like I used
you, I wanted to be there for you in any and every way I could. You
were in so much pain and all you wanted was to forget and I…I didn’t
want you to want to forget me too because…I really loved you, Harry.”
Harry falters after Louis says those words again, sucking in another
seemingly stunned breath.
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“But somehow over the years you’ve twisted in your mind that I never
wanted you—that you were some kind of burden to me, but that’s not
true. It’s not. I wanted you, Harry.” Louis professes, searching his
questioning gaze again. “I wanted it all with you. We were young, but
I knew—I knew I wanted you and I knew I would do anything for that
little girl—I loved Avery, with everything I loved her. She was a part
of me—she, she was my b-baby…” Louis admits quietly, closing his
eyes as he tilts his head, feeling that horrible feeling of loss wash over
him as strong as the falling rain. “I loved her like she was mine and as
far as I was concerned, I was one of her parents. And I would
have always been that for her if you asked—if you let me in. You both
were my family.”
Harry looks devastated, shaking his head more frantically now,

expression laced with fervent disbelief. His eyes are red, horribly red,
with saltwater glistening under their heavy rims. “Why…didn’t you—
why didn’t you tell me? Louis…w-why didn’t you say anything to
me…”
how could you not have known?
“I…I was going to tell you when you got better—you had so much to
deal with and I didn’t want to throw my feelings at you too…” Louis
admits, his voice far quieter as he speaks slowly. “Everything was
already too much for you and you were barely holding on as it was...so
I thought I’d just be there for you…be your support through it all and
when you were ready I’d...I’d tell you how I really felt...but then
you…you left. And I tried telling you that n-night...but you shut me
out...”
Harry continues to mindlessly toss his head back and forth, still frozen
with paralyzing shock as he seems to have difficulty processing any of
Louis’ words. “You let me leave—you…you wanted me to leave… y-
you could have stopped me. If you really wanted to, if you really cared
about me, you could—”
“If I really cared—are you fucking serious!? Don’t put that on me!
Don’t you dare put that shit on me!” Louis argues back, tone growing
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suddenly furious over Harry’s jumbled refute. “You left me! You
fucking left! You did that, not me! You! Maybe you were too fucking
drunk to remember it clearly, but I do! I remember it all and you left!”
He screams angrily, shoving the years of anguish out with it. “And
when you set your mind out to do something, there is no stopping you
and you know that! I never wanted you to leave and I tried to stop you!
I tried so hard—I was screaming and shouting at you to fucking listen
to me, to just slow down and think it through, but you wouldn’t! You
just did what you and your drunk ass wanted to do!”
Louis’ chest is heaving and he feels the startling effects of adrenaline

rushing through his system. In this moment, he doesn’t give a flying
fuck about Harry’s feelings anymore, all he cares about is getting all
the pent up energy out of him before he explodes—or maybe he
already is exploding.
“And I went after you—I searched for you everyday for months! I
almost failed my intern boards because I couldn’t fucking focus on
anything else but you and Avery. You were all I ever thought about!
And then you left me that stupid fucking voicemail and I nearly lost
my mind. What the fuck was that, Harry!? I couldn’t get it out of my
head—I was worried sick for you because of how much I cared about
you!” Louis yells against the rain. “So don’t you dare stand there and
pretend to be blameless in all this. Don’t. Don’t act like I didn’t care
and don’t act like this is on me. I’m not taking that shit from you. Fuck
you for even thinking that. You weren’t there to see what loving you
did to me, you weren’t there to see how losing you broke me—
god…fuck…” Louis rubs both his hands over his face and through his
completely drenched hair. He shakes his head several times before
spinning around angrily to leave. He can’t take any of this any longer.
“I’m done.”
Harry looks as though he’s just been backhanded across the face, eyes
wide and emotive. “What do you mean you’re done? I—”
“I just said I loved you and you still somehow think I never cared!
God, you haven’t changed!” Louis spins around to say, throwing his
head back and almost laughing at the nonexistent humor of it all. He’s
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so fucking furious, he doesn’t even want to look at Harry, but yet
somehow he can’t stop getting all his frustrations out no matter how
harsh or ugly it may sound raging from his lips. “All these years and
you’re still a selfish and scared coward! It’s all about you! It’s always
been all about you! It’s why Avery doesn’t know jack shit about her
own mother! It’s why she doesn’t know I ever existed in her life!
Because you’re too scared to fucking face your past! To man up to
reality and stop running from your problems! You are lying to yourself,
Harry! You’re lying!”
Harry tries to reach after him. “Louis—”
“No! I’m over it, Harry, I’m over you and your bullshit!” Louis jerks
away in anger. Harshly honest words fly from his mouth, lit up like
kerosene burning the cautious flame of doubt. Harry can never
question how Louis feels about him now, he’s laid it all out on the
table. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s over. I’ve said what
I had to say and it’s in the past now. From now on you are the parent
of my patient and that’s fucking all you are and ever will be to me.”
Louis storms off, hearing Harry call his name again, but willfully
ignoring him as he marches through the hospital doors. He feels like
he is going to physically burst at the seams, he’s surpassed angry, far
beyond furious, but more than that, he’s hurt.
Louis hates thinking back on that time, he can hardly stand it, yet it
plagues his thoughts relentlessly. He almost wishes he could ignore
things as well as Harry seems to be able to, Louis wishes he could
somehow make himself that numb to the world.
When Harry first left him, it ruined Louis beyond measure. There’s no
other way to describe it, he was a mess. Hardly making it from day-to-
day, falling behind on every aspect of his career, of his life. Niall had
begged him to snap out of it, Liam had pleaded with him to move on,
Zayn urged him to let it go, but he couldn’t. For the longest time, he
couldn’t. Louis had latched himself onto Harry and Avery, they
became his heart, his family. A family he so desperately needed.
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And for Harry to diminish that and insinuate that he somehow didn’t
care—that he never cared at all… oh, Louis could punch a hole clean
through the wall, but his livelihood is his hands.
Eight years ago it was either drop out or figure out a way to get his
fucking shit back together. Louis functioned on autopilot, turning his
pain into drive and forgetting the rest. Being a workaholic was a way
of survival, a way to distract himself from the reminder that he was
alone. Once again all alone. Always all alone.
Fuck, he needs to break something. Hands aching to release the raging

emotions bubbling hot in his bloodstream. He needs a way to safely
release the mighty aggressions threatening to consume him. And what
better way than to fuck shit up in the messiest, most hands-on lab in
the hospital.
Louis storms into the Ortho Lab in a fury, bursting through the doors
only to find Liam working peacefully on some kind of out-of-the-box
spine apparatus.
Liam glances up briefly, smiling at Louis warmly. “Hey Tommo, are

you my consult? I paged Neuro, but I really only needed—”
“No.” Louis interrupts impatiently, eyes scanning and darting around

the room anxiously in search of something…anything that he can reek
havoc on. “Do you have something I can smash?”
“Smash?” Liam raises an eyebrow, looking up from the brace he’s

crafting. He looks Louis over completely for the first time, frowning.
“Why are you…wet?”
“It’s uh raining outside...”
“Ok…but why are you wet? Where you out there standing in the rain?
Why—”
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“It doesn’t matter, Liam!” Louis fidgets irascibly, hands twitching at
his sides as he bounces on his toes. “I need to—just, like…break
something…you know…? Now. Right now.”
“Uhhh…” Liam eyes him and Louis can see the telltale signs of
concern take over Liam’s expression. “Listen, Louis are you—”
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Louis rushes to say, still jittering about. In the past
month he’s said that expression more times than he can count and
each time it’s even further from the truth. “Liam. Please.”
Liam takes a long look at him, and Louis knows just how not fine he
looks, drenched from head to toe, anxiously fidgeting about. But Liam
nods anyway, probably against his better judgment. He picks up his
tablet from the workstation, pulling up a chart. “Here, take a look at
my patient’s chart and then you can break down those casts if you
want.” He nods his head towards a pile of old castings.
“Perfect. Lemme see.” Louis hurriedly takes the chart from Liam.
Even in his current state, it only takes 5 seconds for him to diagnose
the problem.
Liam starts giving him a patient history, going over details. “So after
that last procedure, my patient has had constant spine pain and—”
“The nerve can’t be salvaged. I would insert an interspinal catheter for

constant pain medication administration.” Louis interrupts, presenting
a solution without needing anymore outside information.
“Oh, why didn’t I think of that? Thanks, Lou.” Liam smiles briefly
before his face morphs immediately back to genuine worry for his
friend. “Hey, I know you’re not ok, and that’s ok…I’m not going to
force you to talk about it right now, but you know you can tell me
anything, right?”
“Mhmm.” Louis nods slowly. He knows how much Liam cares about
him and he appreciates it more than words can say, but right now
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Louis feels like he is going to combust. Not with intelligible words, but
with irate screams. He feels so angry, rage simmering inside him every
time he hears Harry’s words flitting through his head again.
if you really cared…
Louis clenches his fists at his side, holding so much tension in his jaw
and shoulders, it feels like he could potentially pull a muscle.
Liam continues to eye him worriedly. But then he sighs a bit before
turning towards the door, deciding on giving Louis space to process.
“Ok well… I’m just gonna go and leave you to it. All I ask is that you
clean up when you’re done.”
“Ok, I will, I promise.”
The second Liam has left the lab, Louis wastes no time in grabbing the
first mallet he sees, raising it high above his head before raining down
the first blow against the pile of discarded casts. And it feels…good.
Really good, actually. Louis brings down the hammer faster and faster,
growing in frustration and building in force with each and every blow.
He’s smashing everything on the tray table, yelling and screaming any
profane thing that comes to mind. “Motherfucking bastard! Shitface!
Wanker! Son of a bitch!”
“What! The! Fuuuck!” Louis screams, hammering the cast moldings to
sawdust in between each word. “I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!”
He brings the heavy mallet down harder and harder, feeling better with
each angry hit. “Why! The! Goddamn! Fucking! Hell! Does! He! Make!
Me! Feel! Like! This!” Louis growls, letting out all the pent up
frustration and fury he’s accumulated over the past eight years. It’s
exceedingly cathartic despite being clearly destructive in nature and
Louis couldn’t stop if he tried.
And Louis doesn’t stop, not until he has absolutely pulverized every
square inch of the casting material to fine powdered dust. He weakly
takes a step back, chest heaving wildly as he tosses the mallet down on
the metal table. He roughly drags his fingers through his already
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disheveled, soggy fringe, scraping harshly at his scalp. Louis slides his
back down the far wall in helpless defeat, breathing heavily as he pulls
his knees up to his chest. He hugs himself against the tops of his knees,
arms wound tightly around his legs.
This whole time Harry has been parading around him in his life again
and Louis kept telling himself he was fine, that he was over it, that it
was so far in the past it couldn’t possibly bother him anymore as long
as he didn’t think about it. But that couldn’t be any further from the
truth and this inevitable breakdown he is having is only proof of that.
It was bound to happen, he realizes now. There is only so much

pretending and avoiding the body can take before the system short
circuits, needing some sort of release. And now he feels so empty and
drawn out, like he has nothing left to give.
Louis truly has no concept of how much time has passed when Niall
comes bursting into the lab in an absentminded hurry.
“Tomlinson, what the fuck?” Niall starts, sounding almost irritated.

“I’ve been paging you nonstop. Liam said that I could...” His voice
fades out as he takes in the scene around him, the annoyance in his
features morphing instantly to concern. “…uh…find you…here…”
Louis looks up at him blearily, roughly scrubbing his hands through

his horribly frazzled hair. He knows how bad this must look, he is
painfully aware how pitiful he must appear in the eyes of someone else,
but Louis can’t bring himself to care.
“Shit, man...” Niall blows out a long breath, hand on his hip.
Louis stares out in front of him despondently, breathing shallow as he

faintly shrugs his heavy shoulders.
Niall walks over to Louis slowly, sliding down next to him to sit against
the wall. He rests a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Hey…talk to me.”
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Louis doesn’t have the words. Even if he wanted to open up, even if
he wanted to share, he just doesn’t have the words.
“No, don’t do that, Louis. Please don’t.” Niall worries, shifting to sit
in front of Louis, hands on his knees. “I can’t help if you don’t let me
in.”
Niall has seen Louis at his very worst over the years and he has held
Louis together more times than he can count. He’s the person Louis
knows always has his back no matter what and he can say the same
about Liam and Zayn.
Niall’s pager starts beeping against his waist and not a moment later
Louis’ chirps along with it. “We’re gonna talk later, ok? This isn’t over.
Liam, Zayn and I are going to come over and you’re going to fucking
talk about this. You have no choice. If you are going through some
shit, we aren’t going to let you do it alone. Got it?”
Louis still doesn’t answer, only lifting his head to give Niall a look.
He’s not sure what the look he gives him means exactly, but Louis
hopes it doesn’t appear as desolate and empty as Louis really feels.
“There’s a new trauma in the pit, possible concussions so we need

you—can you work right now? Do I need to hunt down someone else
from your department?”
Louis shakes himself out, inhaling slow and deep. “No, I’m good—
I’m fine.” His voice comes out throaty and dry, cracking in all kinds of
places and even still he hopes Niall believes him or at the very least,
pretends to believe him for now. Louis needs to work, he needs to put
himself to good use and distract his mind for a while. “I’m ok, really.”
Niall eyes him for a moment, but eventually nods. He stands to his
feet and offers a hand to Louis to help him do the same.
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“I uh…I promised Liam I’d clean up whatever mess I made…” Louis
mentions quietly, surveying the damage he yielded on the cast
moldings.
“Oh please, we’ll just have an intern do it. That’s what they’re for
anyway.” Niall teases lightly, trying to get Louis to show some form of
positive emotion.
Louis only offers a small, weak smile before moving wordlessly

towards the exit.
“Hey.” Niall calls gently, turning Louis around and pulling him into a
hug. It takes Louis completely by surprise, but he sinks into his best
friend’s embrace, cherishing the feeling of warm arms cocooning him,
holding him together. “I’m here for you, ok. I’m right here...”
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CHAPTER 5
the rhythm it marches to is irregular.
||✚||
In love.
Louis was in love with him.
Not a crush, not a slight attraction, actually in love.
Harry had considered it, often dreaming about it being true one day,
entertaining the welcome notion in his head from time to time, but
he’d never thought it was true. It couldn’t possibly be true.
if it wasn’t true, then why does it hurt so bad…
Standing in his kitchen, Harry’s thoughts whirl as he mindlessly chops

up vegetables for dinner. It’s taking him far longer than it should
because his brain is almost completely bogged down by the ceaseless
echoing of Louis’ words still ringing loudly in his head.
That time in his life—seeming almost a lifetime ago, when his sister
had died and nothing made sense, was so very dark. So horrifyingly
etched in pitch black darkness that he never allowed himself to even
think of it. He told himself repeatedly that nothing good ever came
out of that time. He couldn’t separate the few good memories from
the mountain of bad ones, so he wrote them all off as bad. Harry was
so drunk and angry at everything; it all became a blur. A huge,
shadowy, painful blur that he has refused to dissect apart or revisit in
years, carrying on as though it never happened.
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But is it possible that in doing so he erased all that Louis really was.
Louis was…he was…everything—that much Harry can easily

remember. Before Gemma died, Louis was the person who made him
smile everyday, the person who made the smallest things utterly
hilarious for no real reason, the person he could share an empty room
with for hours and never once get bored. He trusted Louis with any
and every thing, pouring out secrets meant for only his ears like it was
everyday conversation.
But oddly enough, despite their undeniable chemistry, Harry couldn’t

picture Louis ever coming to have feelings for him or caring about him
past the level of friends. He could never picture himself as anything,
but a nuisance and a burden to Louis. A freeloading burden who
inevitably caused him more grief than good, part of why he left in the
first place. How could Harry have gotten it so wrong? How could he
have not known or at least had an inkling that Louis had feelings for
him all that time? He must have known. There had to have been a part
of him that knew.
he loved me, he really loved me
But it doesn’t even matter now, Louis doesn’t love him anymore, he
made that crystal clear when he screamed in Harry’s face. And Harry
has long laid to rest whatever emotions he had tied up in Louis. He
has a new life now, a good life.
you’re still a scared and selfish coward
Harry was mad about it at first—he was furious that Louis would
throw names in his face like that. Spit out so harshly, they hit straight
to Harry’s very core. But the more he thinks about it, the more he
starts to open himself up little by little, the more Harry starts to get the
sinking feeling that maybe there is some truth to Louis’ bold words.
It’s no secret that Harry avoids anything that even slightly causes him
pain and to do that he had to close himself off emotionally. Harry told
himself anything that would make the pain cease, anything that would
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give him a moments relief. But he couldn’t possibly be as indifferent
to the truth as Louis claims. Could he?
you are lying to yourself, harry. you’re lying…
“Ow! Shit!”Harry curses loudly, wincing as he looks down at the finger

he absentmindedly nicked with his knife. A steady trickling of blood
pouring from the wound onto the cutting board.
“Daddy, what’s wrong? Are you ok?” Avery worries, instantly sitting
up from her seat at the table where she’d been quietly doing her take
home school assignments that she’d missed.
“Mhmm…I’m fine, Avie.” Harry forces a tight smile to reassure her,

but he doesn’t feel all that fine. And not just because his hand is oozing
with blood.
“Harry, what happened?” Jesse comes into the kitchen, having heard
Harry from the other room.
“I just—I cut my finger on accident. It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Harry tries
again, staring down at the bloody mess he’s making on the countertop,
but not seeming to find the will to do anything about it.
“You’re not fine.” Jesse protests, forcibly grabbing Harry’s hand to

inspect it. He tries to meet Harry’s eyes, but Harry does everything he
can to avoid his gaze, casting his attention to the ground. “Avery, go
play in your room.”
“Why?” Avery frowns at Jesse, looking perfectly content where she

sits at the kitchen table. “I’m doing my homework.”
“Avery, please. Take your homework with you, ok?” Jesse advises,
forcing Harry to sit down on one of the kitchen stools. “I have to talk
to your Dad.”
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Avery doesn’t argue any more, she never would. She’s always been
obedient in that way. Although her face still looks impossibly worried
about her father. She gathers up her things to leave as instructed, but
on her way out of the kitchen she stops by the stool Harry is sitting on
and leans up on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek.
“I’m ok, Munch.” Harry whispers to her softly, returning a kiss to the
crown of her head. “I promise, I’m ok, baby.”
Avery nods, seemingly satisfied for now that he’s really ok. She cares
so much about Harry, always worrying about him and making sure he’s
doing alright. It’s not her job to do that of course, but since it was just
the two of them for so long, their relationship isn’t always usual. It’s
not just a father-daughter bond between them, they’re as thick as
thieves, they’re the best of friends and they love each other more than
anything.
Jesse pulls out the first aid kit from under the sink, reaching first for
an antiseptic cloth to wipe the open wound. “So what’s going on,
babe?”
Harry winces again as the cloth stings the gash digging through his
index finger, the pressure causing the bleeding to cease. “What?
Nothing is going on, my hand just slipped.”
“You’ve been distracted since you got home today.” Jesse continues,
working on securing a Band-Aid around Harry’s finger.
“No, I haven’t.” Harry protests, still carefully avoiding eye contact with
his fiancé.
“Harry.” Jesse eyes him flatly, looking up from his newly bandaged
hand. “Earlier I asked you if you needed any help with dinner and you
answered me with ‘No, I hate that movie’.”
“I um…I must have misheard you or something—I don’t know, I’m

fine.” Harry insists again.
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Jesse pauses for a long moment before speaking next. “Does this have
something to do with Louis?”
“What? W-Why would you ask that, Jesse?” Harry stutters a bit, caught
off guard.
“Because I saw you talking earlier. In the hospital parking lot…” Jesse
admits cautiously, treading lightly as though he knows it’s a sensitive
subject. “What were you talking about?”
“Nothing.” Harry answers instantly, looking down at his finger to

avoid eye contact.
“Clearly it’s not nothing—”
“Not everything has to mean something, ok? It doesn’t mean

anything.”
“Harry?” Jesse presses, resting a hand flat to Harry’s back. “I mean—

what? Were you close or something? Is he an ex? Just talk to me, babe.”
“No, he’s not an ex…he’s just…” Harry doesn’t know how to finish
his sentence, growing more and more frustrated with the whole
conversation. Louis wasn’t just anything, he was everything.
“Just?”
“I don’t know, ok!” Harry bursts suddenly, exasperated. He doesn’t

want to sit and dissect this, he doesn’t want to think back and hash out
everything that happened between them. It’s overwhelming. “I don’t
fucking know…”
Jesse looks taken aback by his partner’s outburst, eyeing Harry closely
but remaining silent.
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“I knew him…years ago…we were young…and he…” Harry
mumbles, slumped down on the stool. He runs his uninjured hand
through his hair. “We just...I don’t know. We’ve always just
understood each other…more than other people? It’s different…with
him—I’m different with him. He um…I don’t know…he gets me? Or
he used to? I don’t know…”
“So…you’re saying that I don’t get you?” Jesse questions, features

morphing with a twinge of hurt.
“No! That’s not what I’m saying at all…” Harry groans in frustration.
He doesn’t know what he’s saying, so completely out of touch with his
emotions. This day has been so confusing and complicated, putting
Harry on sensory overload. All he can hear is Louis’ voice raging in his
head, heated words jumbled and rattled against the confines of his
mind.
“Then what—”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Harry rushes out decisively, giving
his head a final shake.
Jesse takes a few steps closer. “Harry—”
“Jes. Please.” Harry meets his fiancé’s eyes seriously, practically

begging. “Just drop it, please. It’s over, it’s in the past. It’s nothing.”
Jesse holds his gaze and Harry is silently willing him to let it go, he just
doesn’t have the strength to discuss this right now. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” Harry forces out an appreciative smile, pecking Jesse’s

lips lightly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Jesse presses forward, standing in between Harry’s

legs as he tries to deepen the kiss. His hands reach up to cup Harry’s
face affectionately, but Harry pulls away, quickly ducking out of Jesse’s
arms to stand to his feet.
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“Um...I’m just gonna erm run out…and pick up carry out instead of
cooking tonight. Um yeah…” Harry announces, scratching the back
of his neck a bit awkwardly as he stands a good distance from his
fiancé.
Jesse eyes him curiously, frowning with uncertainty. “Mmm, ok…”
“Ok.” Harry echoes, nodding to himself and taking a deep breath as

he stumbles out of the kitchen. He isn’t sure what the hell is going on
with him, but he knows that whatever it is, it can’t be good.
||☤||
Louis crashes down on his living room sofa, finding just the idea of
standing to be onerous. What a day he’s had, what a fucking day. After
he left the Ortho lab, Louis was rushed right into surgery to work on
the victims of a hit and run motorcycle accident. There had been two
patients, one a spinal injury, the other a head laceration and deep
contusion. Both were clearly surgical and both required a
neurosurgeon, but all the other attendings under Louis’ department
were already working on other cases.
Thankfully, the spinal injury only required a minor repair on the neuro
end, so a resident could easily handle it. Or a resident should have been
able to easily handle it, but it was just Louis’ luck that there ended up
being complications far too advanced for his fourth year resident, so
he ended up basically juggling himself between two different ORs. All
together he’d spent an additional seven hours in an unplanned surgery,
not to mention the facial reconstruction surgery he assisted on earlier
in the morning or his blow out with Harry in the afternoon.
Louis is utterly exhausted to say the least.
He stretches out on his couch, eyes falling closed until he feels the
familiar press of a wet nose against his cheek. Louis opens his eyes,
managing a half-smile for his old friend. “Hello Benny Boy. How are
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you, lad?” He sits up to greet his dog properly, scratching behind
Benedict’s ears just how he likes.
“Hungry?” Louis asks even though he leaves Benedict’s bowl full of

extra food everyday. But whenever Louis spends a longer shift at the
hospital, he likes to give him something extra for always being so good.
“Yeah me too, buddy. Come on, let’s go see what we’ve got.”
Louis drags his heavy feet to the kitchen, trailed by an eager and excited
Benedict. He tells Benny to “sit” and then “lay down” to which his
dog easily abides to, before tossing him two dog treats. Next, Louis
sets out to rummage through his kitchen in search of something
marginally edible. He must admit it’s been awhile since he went grocery
shopping, never seeming to find the time—more so, never seeing the
need to make the time when he can just order take out or eat around
the hospital. The only thing he finds is a container of two day old
Fettuccini Alfredo, popping the lid off to find that it smells just like
freezer, only eluding to what it probably tastes like.
“Ughhh, fuck it all to hell.” Louis groans, slamming the fridge closed
and dropping the container in the trash.
In lieu of actual food, Louis settles on a fresh, unopened bottle of his

favorite tequila. He climbs the stairs to the master bedroom, forgoing
the actual room and heading straight for the bathroom, where he hops
right into the bathtub fully clothed. Louis settles down in the basin of
the empty tub, cuddled up with a bottle of Tequila Don Julio Blanco.
Louis pops open the blue bottle, tossing his head back and downing a
hefty amount in one go. He keeps drinking until half the bottle is in
his system. Despite how little he wants to think about it, all his mind
can seem to do is go over his conversation with Harry. The shocked
look on his face, the horror in his eye, the uncertainty interlaced with
his voice, all of it burned to the forefront of Louis’ conscious.
How the hell could Harry ever come to the conclusion that Louis
doesn’t care—that he never cared? After all Louis did, it’s not even
logically sound, which only confirms Louis’ initial conclusion that
Harry has undoubtedly taken to lying to himself in order to cope.
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Because even if actions where somehow not enough, Louis not only
showed how much he cared, he literally told Harry explicitly in his
many seemingly ignored voicemails he left in Harry’s inbox.
“Harry, hi it’s me again—Louis…in case you forgot my name or you have amnesia
or something. I’m kidding, obviously, because if that were indeed the case and you
really did have amnesia then telling you my name probably wouldn’t do a damns
worth of good anyways because you wouldn’t remember shit—sorry fuck I’m
rambling again. Sorry. Shit—but I’m only rambling because I’m…well nervous
or uh scared rather, yeah. I just—why won’t you just talk to me, Harry? I’m really
worried about you, H. I’m sorry if you felt like…I dunno, like I was coming at
you or something—I wasn’t, I swear. Maybe I came on too strong? Maybe I pushed
you too far and you weren’t ready yet? I dunno—but Harry I care about you so
much and I just want to know if you’re ok. That’s all… It’s really quiet around
here without you and Avery and I…I miss you...I really do…and uh Benny misses
you too, he sits by your door and he whines and…I just—H, please call me back.
Please…”
“Oh fuck. Not the bathtub…”
Louis lifts his head, to find Niall at his bathroom door. “It’s just a
bathtub kind of day, mate.” He lifts his tequila bottle in a mock toast,
before sucking down more of the clear liquor. It burns a bit on its way
down, but Louis hardly notices it much as the effects of alcohol start
to take their toll on his willing system.
“Are you drunk too?” Niall asks in concern, eyeing Louis’ half drunken
bottle.
“I dunno, are you drunk?” Louis tosses back, tilting his head at him.
Niall sighs, getting his answer. “I used my emergency key, I figured

you wouldn’t let me in.”
“You figured right.” Louis confirms, taking another long swig of his
bottle.
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“I brought comfort food.” Niall holds up a bag of some kind of
takeout and it smells absolutely heavenly. “I also figured you had no
food in this house.”
“Again. Spot on assessment…” Louis quips, lulling his head against

the shower wall.
“Ooh, so I’m dealing with bitter drunk Louis, fantastic.” Niall notes
sarcastically. Being drunk for Louis can have a range of effects on his
spirit. He has the potential to become the life of the party or a mess of
uncontrollable giggles and jokes or even a big, soft cuddlebear. But on
a bad day, alcohol can only take a turn for the worst and morph his
already sarcastic and sassy spirit into a bitter bitch, as Zayn always calls
him.
“Talk.” Niall says simply after he has crawled into the tub, nestling on
the opposite side.
They used to do this sort of thing all the time, especially when Harry
first left. Niall would come over after work to check on Louis and he
never failed to find him huddled up in his bathtub. Louis doesn’t even
know exactly why he started taking to the tub; the first time he was
actually just taking a shower and then he just sat down. That’s when
he discovered the illusion of safety the porcelain tub offers. Soon he’d
just climb in fully clothed only to think and process. It helps, oddly
enough.
“I don’t have anything to saaay.” Louis groans irritably, exhaling as he

drags his sentence out. “Don’t you have plans with Charlie tonight or
something?”
“She understood, it’s fine.” Niall brushes off, his entire priority
centered around Louis. “Now talk.”
“Talk about what?”
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“Louis.” Niall says his name flatly, narrowing his eyes. And yeah, Louis
knows he’s being difficult, but he doesn’t feel like talking. Frankly, he
doesn’t feel like doing much of anything. And besides…he’s drunk.
“There’s nooothing to talk about!” Louis insists, voice slightly raised

this time as he sighs again.
“Ok, how about I talk then and you tell me if I’m close. Can you do
that?”
Louis sighs again heavily, drinking a bit more from the bottle.
“Fiiine…”
“Alright, well I know it has to be about Harry. You’ve been on the

verge of combusting ever since he came back around.” Niall guesses
without needing much thought. “And I’m guessing you finally stopped
pretending to be fine and talked to him…”
Louis doesn’t deny him, keeping his head lent against the tiled wall.
And for some reason—the alcohol most likely, he’s finding himself a
little irritated that Niall knows him so well.
“Am I getting close?” Niall asks, leaning in a bit.
Louis sighs despondently, nodding his head in silence.
“Right.” Niall gathers. “And I take it that it didn’t go so well.

Considering the murder scene I walked into earlier at the Ortho lab.
Plus your current drunken state. Listen Lou, if you want me to go fight
him I will—he lives in Seattle again, we can make this happen. Just say
the word and I’ll go fuck him up on your honor.”
Louis cracks a small amused smile, lulling his head towards his dear
friend. “Oooh Niall, you’re sooo cute.”
“I’m serious Lou, if he hurt you I don’t care what sob story he uses as
an excuse, I’m ready to fight.” Niall pledges. Louis knows he isn’t
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serious, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he’s also so protective over Louis,
always bending over backwards to do right by him.
And honestly Louis is not exactly mad at what Harry did back then,
more so just mad at the whole situation and how it ended. Or didn’t
end. When Harry left he was young, dumb, and wounded—Louis gets
it, he does. You do stupid shit when you’re hurting and Louis knows
that painfully from experience.
But what Louis is undeniably furious about is the fact that after all
these years Harry still can’t recognize what really happened. He still
can’t put the pieces together and admit the whole truth. Admit what
he did was wrong and immature and own up to it. No one can change
the past, but what Harry can do is take responsibility for his actions
and how they may have affected the lives around him. But Harry can’t
seem to do that and it’s like he has been emotionally stunted this entire
time. Despite the numbers he has gained in years and age on the
outside, he is still the same scared, broken twenty-four year old kid on
the inside, emotionally on pause.
“He didn’t hurt me…not really, not recently anyway—it’s just…”
“Just what?”
“He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get—” Louis sighs heavily, taking
another swig just to get through talking about this. “Ok. So listen to
this, I finally told him how I felt—or how I used to feel—whatever,
fuck it...and then he spouted off some bullshit about how I could have
made him stay if I really cared about him…like what...the…fuuuck…”
He drags out, widening his eyes.
“That is bullshit.” Niall agrees automatically.
“Right?” Louis emphasizes sitting up, guzzling more tequila. “It’s

bullshit shit shiiit fucking shit.” He nods his head around on each word,
speech slurred. “So I uh snapped and told him to fuck off—abridged
version.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Cuz who needs that? Not meee…I
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don’t need that cuz I’ve got Don Julio!” He laughs, coddling his bottle
of tequila to his chest. “And Donny is my beeest frieeend.”
“Ok, but you’re obviously still not ok with it…otherwise you wouldn’t
be getting drunk right now.”
“Of course I’m not ok with it, Ni! He really has me painted as some
kind of evil Disney villain in his head and I don’t deserve that?” Louis
frowns to himself distantly as though he’s confused himself somehow.
“Do you think I deserve that? I don’t right? No?…No?”
“No, Lou. No, of course not.” Niall agrees instantly, resting a hand on
Louis’ knee. “You don’t deserve that at all. It’s easy to twist up the
truth when you’re going through something that turns your whole
world upside down, and Harry went through a lot of shit at once and
didn’t handle it well, but none of that is on you.”
“But he doesn’t…he doesn’t geeet it.” Louis repeats again. “It’s not
even that he doesn’t get it? It’s that he reeefuses to get it…”
“Get what, Lou?” Niall asks in total confusion.
“It!” Louis repeats obviously with impossibly wide eyes. “It! Us! Me!
Like—he refuses to get it and I knooow he gets it because it’s iiiit, you
know? It is what it is and he knoooows it! Am I making sense? No?
I’m not, huh? You’re looking at me liiike…I dunno liiike? I’m speaking
Latin or some shit?”
“You’re so wasted, wow.” Niall awes, tilting his head as he considers

Louis. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“Yeees!” Louis nods repeatedly, attempting to sit up. “I knooow that

he knooows deep down somewhere and if he would just wake the fuck
up and stop lyyying to himself he’d get iiiit! He’d get that I loooved him!
That I would have supported him through it aaaall! That I needed him
as much as he needed me! God—we never even dated!” He bursts in
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sudden furious frustration. “We neeever were anything! Not really
anyway, that’s what makes it all even more shiiiitty.”
“I think you know that what you had goes way beyond just dating,
Lou.”
“Fuuuck.” Louis sighs, putting the bottle right back to his lips and
tossing his head back. “And what’s even wooorse is that I care. I still
fucking caaare. About him about what happened about us. I care! I
haaate that I love him—loved him? Fuck.”
“Maybe you’re just not over him yet?” Niall tries gently.
“But I neeeed to be, Niall…I need to be over this whooole thing. I

can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep caring about him. He left me eight
yeeears ago and he moved on, but I can’t! Whyyyy can’t I? Why does
he still have anyyy kind of effect on me? Ugh! Maaaybe I really should
just start hating him instead? Yeah? Yeaaaah. I basically told him I
haaate him anyway….”
The door cracks open and Zayn pokes his dark haired head into the
bathroom.
“Zaynnnn!” Louis gasps as though he hasn’t seen him in decades.

“You’re hereee.”
“Drunk Louis?” Zayn questions towards Niall as he takes note of the

two of them in the bathtub.
Niall nods with a sigh. “Drunk and bitter Louis.”
“Shit, I was hoping for goofy and giggling Louis. That guy is a hoot.”
Zayn says as he opens the door fully to walk in. “Definitely my favorite
drunk Louis.”
“That Louis is deaaad.” Louis grumbles, with a deep pouty frown.
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“Right. Well, I brought more fuel for the fire.” Zayn lifts two more
bottles of alcohol, both of them tequila. “Which may not be the best
thing…but oh well…”
Liam follows behind Zayn, walking into the room and automatically
making an assessment. “How bad is he?”
“Wasted as fuck. Bitter as fuck.” Zayn relays over his shoulder.
“I figured.” Liam nods.
“Liammmmm!” Louis gasps again with the same level of genuine

surprise, wide eyes and all. “It’s youuu!”
“Hey bud, you look cozy in there.” Liam smiles at Louis but then looks
to Niall in question. “What happened?”
Niall glances at Louis before opening his mouth to speak. “Uh well—
”
“Ooh nooo! I’ll tell you—let me do it... I can do it sooo much better, I
swear!” Louis manages to somehow sit up in the bathtub, righting
himself while drunkenly hiccuping. “Sooo what happened is...Harry
can go fuuuck himself.”
“Well alright then.” Zayn nods opening up another bottle.
“He doesn’t really mean that.” Niall explains, serving as Louis’

interpreter.
“Ooh yes I dooo.” Louis argues, nodding his head. “I meeean that
shit—oh nooo! Donny!” He pouts suddenly, holding his empty bottle
upside down. “My best friend is gooone.”
“Is he really talking about the tequila?” Liam wonders, shaking his
head. “Oh my god. How did he get that drunk?”
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“I mean, he did finish an entire bottle himself...” Niall notes, glancing
at Louis with growing concern etched on his face.
“Here you go, bro.” Zayn replaces Louis empty bottle with a fresh one.
“I got you.”
“Aww Zaaayn, I love yooou…” Louis gives Zayn a dopey, hazed smile
as he cradles his new bottle. “And I looove you too, Donnyyy.”
“Z, why are you encouraging him?” Liam questions, voice laden with
disapproval.
“He’s sad!” Zayn defends, sitting next to Louis along the outside of the
tub. “Let him be sad. He’s had a hard day.” He coddles Louis, arm
around his shoulder as he pets his hair understandingly. “I know, babe
it’s ok. You just drink your little heart out, we’ll worry about it later.”
“Thaaank you…I alwaaays loved you the mooost…you’re my

faaavorite friend, second to Dooonny, of course…” Louis rests his
head down on Zayn’s shoulder, snuggling as close to him as possible.
“Zayn, I’m really, really saaad…”
Zayn nods sympathetically, still running his finger’s through Louis’

hair to soothe him. “I know, Lou, I know…”
“I think he’s turning into drunk and cuddly Louis.” Niall observes
from his end of the tub.
“You wanna know something reaaally funny?” Louis lifts his gaze,
sporting a growing shit-eating grin.
“What?” Zayn asks.
“Harry’s fiancé is a toootal asswipe.” Louis giggles to himself, eyes

falling closed. “He’s the wooorst.”
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“Oh no, he’s back. Still bitter.” Niall gathers with a nod.
“Hey Lou, maybe you should go out on a date or get laid or

something?” Liam suggests, trying to be helpful. “It’s been a while I’m
sure.”
Louis opens his eyes and frowns defensively. “What are you trying to
saaay, Liam? That I need to go fuck my feelings for Harry out of my
system?”
“No. No, I just think getting to know a few new people wouldn’t hurt,
you know?” Liam tries carefully, treading as light as possible.
“Nooo, I don’t know.” Louis continues to frown. “Liiike? What is the

point of meaningless sex?”
“Um it feels good? I dunno…” Zayn shrugs noncommittally. “It

works—takes your mind off of things for sure.”
“Ok, buuut what happens after thaaat?” Louis wonders.
Liam opens his mouth to answer, but Louis beats him to it.
“I’ll tell you exaaactly what happens! I end up feeling shittier than I did
to begin with.” Louis starts giggling again, eyes fluttering closed.
“You don’t know that for sure.” Niall tries.
“Ummmmm but I dooo.” Louis smiles sarcastically, taking a pitiful

swig from his bottle. And he really does because he tried that for
awhile. A long while. And, spoiler alert: it didn’t fucking work.
“There’s that resident in gastroenterology. He’s pretty hot. And I heard

he went through a bad breakup so—”
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“Sooo what? He’s an easy saaad target like me? Is that what you’re
trying to say? How bloody chaaarming.” Louis grumbles flatly, taking
another swish of tequila.
“I just think you could be sad and bitter together, that’s all.” Liam
smiles, trying to lightly tease, but Louis is in no mood for those kind
of jokes in his state of mind.
“Oh, fuuuck off.” Louis flips him off, resting his head back down on
Zayn’s shoulder. “Ok, enouuugh about me…” He waves off with his
eyes closed. “Why don’t we talk about yooou guys now. What’s
neeew?”
“Nothing new, I’m mostly doing Liam, as usual.” Zayn shrugs,

answering honestly.
“Same.” Liam nods easily. “Erm or no—I mean I’m doing Zayn, not
myself, yeah…”
“I don’t understand you guys…” Louis’ sighs heavily, sitting up and

sliding a hand through his now messy hair. “Liiike? For such smaaart
people? You’re sooo fucking dumb? You have a potentially greeeat
thing between you and you’re waaasting it.”
“We aren’t wasting it, we’re doing it. Literally.” Zayn argues with a
smirk. “I’m always doing it.”
“No, no, no, nooo.” Louis shakes his head drunkenly, Don Julio bottle
sloshing a bit into the tub. “There’s nooo commitment, there’s nooo
effort—you’re just half-assing it for whatever shit reason—but you’d
be really reaaally good together, you know? If you’d stop being so
fucking stuuupid.” He gasps suddenly, sitting up as much as he can in
the tub and consequentially spilling more tequila over himself. “Oooh!
You know what your problem is? You don’t talk to each other…you
only fuck each other—there’s nooo communication. You’re both like?
Communication bottoms? But like? One of you has to start being the
top sometimes for this to work.”
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Liam, Zayn, and Niall all blink at Louis with wide eyes, faces loaded
with incredulity.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m riiight. I’m drunk, but I’m
sooo right...” Louis hiccups, holding his tequila to his chest. “And as
your friend, I ooonly want the best for you. Be a top sometimes.”
“Oh my god…” Niall shakes his head, still watching Louis as though
he’s suddenly sprouted a second head.
“And yooou…” Louis pulls the direction of his head towards Niall
next, pointing the tip of his bottle at him. “What’s going on? Is Charlie
a fling oooor…”
“No, she’s not a fling.” Niall denies, going all bashful as he usually
does. “She’s…more than that.”
“Soooo you’re dating? Liiiike? Serious, seeeerious dating? Exclusive

dating?” Louis wonders further as his slurred speech only gets worse
and worse. “I neeeeed to know, I’m invested now because she’s
becoming my faaave intern.”
Niall’s face goes a bit soft as his cheeks color up. “Um…yeah…yeah
we are…”
“Zayn, you owe meee money.” Louis twists to look up at Zayn. “It’s
only beeeen a month, I wiiin…”
Zayn nods easily, draping his arm back around Louis. “I’ll take you out
of for a really fancy dinner, Lou. I’ll show you a good time, I promise.”
“You guys really placed bets on my relationship?” Niall asks in

disbelief.
“Heck yeah, man.” Zayn smirks at him. “Easy money.”
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“But you lost.” Liam reminds.
“Those are just details, ok. Shh.”
“Mmmm…I’m sleeeepy...” Louis yawns, curling up in the tub with his

eyes closed, using his alcohol bottle as some kind of teddy bear.
“Ok, I’m just gonna take this.” Liam decides, prying the bottle from
Louis’ unwilling hands.
“Nooo! Dooonny!” Louis pouts, demonstrating genuine separation

anxiety from losing his best friend.
“You’ve had too much fun with Donny for one night.” Liam says, like
a wise parent.
Louis crosses his hands across his chest petulantly, glaring at Liam.
“Give him back, Liam! He’s my beeest frieeend!”
Liam crosses the bathroom floor to the sink, tipping the bottle over
and emptying the rest of its contents down the drain. Something Louis
is 100% not ok with, and he immediately says as much.
“Noooo! You muuurdered Donny!” Louis screeches in genuine

horror, both hands on each side of his face as he screams. “You’re a
murdereeer! I would never let you be my doctor! You’re a kiiiller!”
“It’s tequila, Louis! Tequila!” Liam shouts back.
“Don’t fucking talk about my best friend like that! Have you nooo
respect for the dead! Goddammit Liam! Don Julio was a good
fuuucking person! He didn’t deserve thaaat!” Louis drunkenly yells,
throwing his head back in sudden agony. “Oh my god! I miss him sooo
much! He was taken too soooon and, and he was yoooung! So full of
liiife! And you took him from me—I’ll never forgive yooou,
Liam! Neveeer! Never ever never never ever never…”
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“Ok great, thanks.” Liam nods unaffected and unbothered by Louis’
empty drunken threats. Especially since his repeated and jumbled
‘never evers’ soon started morphing into heavy drawn out yawns.
“Let’s get you to bed so you can sleep this off.”
Niall tries to hold back his growing laugher, but he can’t anymore,
giggling right along with Zayn. “One day I’m gonna retire from
medicine and become a director and I’m gonna make a documentary
called Doctors After Hours and the only star will be all the versions of
drunk Louis.”
“Honestly?” Zayn ponders, looking up for a moment. “I’d watch

that.”
“Imagine all the possibilities…” Niall continues to laugh. “I’d just

follow him around with a camera. Maybe strategically place Liam in
his way just to bother him. It’d be fucking gold.”
“I’m sorry, I’m still stuck on the fact the he claimed pouring the bottle
down the drain was murder, but him drinking it wasn’t?” Zayn stares
up, tying to rationalize the drunken passions of his ridiculous friend.
“The best part is that he is deadass serious.” Niall cackles. “We should
have recorded it; he’ll never believe us when we try to explain how
fucking wasted he was.”
Zayn laughs. “Be sure to tune in next week on Doctors After Hours
when we find out just how much Louis actually remembers about
tonight.”
||☤||
“I need the day off.” Louis announces the very second he opens the
door to The Chief’s office, taking off his sunglasses. Louis woke up
feeling shitty. Beyond shitty really. If shit could manifest itself into a
human form it would without a doubt, equate to Louis’ current
existential state. He steps into Steve’s office dressed in the same sweats
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he fell asleep in last night, messy unkempt hair stuffed under a lopsided
beanie. Thanks to an unfortunate mishap at the elevator, he has a
massive coffee stain running down the length of his t-shirt and he’d
hardly bothered to cover it up with his hoodie. Because…why? Who
cares honestly.
Louis is also in an odd state of being hungover from the night before
and also drunk from the generous amount of rum he pretended to
disguise with coffee this morning. And if the bags under his eyes aren’t
enough of an indicator, he probably reeks of booze, just further
eluding to his massive break down. Essentially he has reverted all the
way back in time to the weeks after Harry first left. And overall Louis
probably looks more like a person living on the streets than an
established and highly esteemed neurosurgeon. But again…who cares?
“Um…what?” Steve looks up from his desk, instantly perplexed by

the disturbing state of his Chief of Neurosurgery. He gives Louis a
once over, removing his reading glasses from his face in dismay.
Louis plops down on the loveseat sized couch decorating the office,
kicking his feet up on the small coffee table. “I said…I need the day
off.”
Steve narrows his eyes in confusion, setting down his glasses slowly.
“Yes, I heard that, but…”
“I need the day off to do some drinking.” Louis declares in mock

cheerfulness, giving Steve an overly enthusiastic smile. And in a move
of absolute unprofessionalism, he pulls a mini bottle of tequila out of
his pocket and holds it up in the air, tipping it towards The Chief.
“Cheers, Steve.”
“Are you out of your mind!?” Steve gasps, jaw falling in shock.
“Who knows?” Louis shrugs with a self-depreciating laugh, chugging

the small bottle dry.
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“Louis!” Steve gasps again in pure disbelief. “This is a hospital! A place
of healing and medicine!”
Louis downs the whole miniature bottle, finishing it off with a loud
burp, before standing to his feet. “Push all my surgeries.”
“Oh my god, Louis! You can’t be serious!”
“I just said I’m drinking today. And I came here to give you a heads
up that I’m not coming in today because…” He giggles drunkenly,
throwing his head back and shrugging. “I’m driiinkinnnggg!”
“Tomlinson, what the hell is wrong with you? You’ve never acted like
this in all the many years I’ve known you. This isn’t—”
“I give my all every day, all year long. I bring high profile cases to this
hospital. I publish clinical trials, I bring lucrative grant funding. I do it
all!” Louis interrupts, voice picking up in volume. “And all I’m asking
for is that for today, for this one goddamn day, that I be allowed to
drink and drink and drink without being paged. Or called. Or
bothered. Or anything.”
Steve stands utterly stunned by Louis’ outburst. Slowly he begins to

cross the expanse of his office to sit down next to Louis on the couch.
He places a gentle hand on his shoulder, tilting his head in concern.
“Louis, are you ok? I’m very worried about you. Not just as your boss,
but as a friend. Are you ok? You can be honest with me, we all have
bad days.”
“I'm fine Steve, ok. I am A-OK fine.” Louis says in a sarcastic kind of
way, making an OK sign with one hand.
“You’re not fine. You’re—”
“I said I’m fine.” Louis snaps, serious this time. “Just let me fucking
toss back a few.”
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“A few what?”
“Bottles, of course.” Louis bursts into a drunken cackle. “What? You

thought I was going to say glasses or some shit like that? Pssht…” He
blows air out of his mouth, waving his hand in dismissal and tossing
his head back. “I’m not a punk…I can hold my liquor like a—” He
burps loudly, head swaying as he hiccups. “Aha—like a maaan!”
“I can’t believe you showed up to my office drunk.” Steve sighs

incredulously. “Really?”
“Steve, I’m asking nicely.” Louis looks to him seriously, or as serious

as he can muster right now.
“You’re lucky I like you, Louis.” Steve reminds, shaking his head. “Ok,
but you can expect someone at your door tonight to check up on you.
I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you shouldn’t go at it
alone.”
Louis nods silently, slightly appreciative about the concern for his well
being while also being slightly annoyed by it.
“Now get out of my hospital before someone sees you looking like
utter shit.” Steve shoos him out. “And please don’t come back until
you’re feeling better. I have a hospital to run, I can’t have my chief of
staff parading around looking like homeless drunkards.”
“Oh don’t worry Steve, I’ll be back to the respectable doctor you love
before you know it.”
“Let’s hope so.”
||☤||
“Dr. Tomlinson, could I speak to you for a moment?”
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Louis slows down begrudgingly at the call of his name, mentally
calculating how rude it would be if he just bolted the last few yards to
the main door without acknowledging the call. Obviously he can’t do
that, no matter how much he wants to. And of course it’s just his luck
that on his one day to be left alone he can’t even make it out of the
hospital doors without running into someone.
Louis turns around only to find Jesse approaching him purposefully.

Which is just fantastic news because Louis looks like fucking road kill
and is getting increasingly more tipsy as the alcohol he downed in
Steve’s office starts hitting his blood stream.
Fantastic.
All he wants is to drink. Drink alone. In peace. Undisturbed. Is that

really asking too much? God.
Louis self-consciously pulls his hooded jacket over his frame,

concealing the massive rum tinted coffee spill down his wrinkled shirt.
He schools his face into a reasonably presentable fashion, thanking the
high heavens that he already put his sunglasses back on. “Oh. Ummm,
look, I’m not really here today so—”
“It’ll only take a moment.” Jesse interrupts determinedly.
Louis is still taking small steps backwards, hoping to finesse some kind
of escape. “Well I was just on my way out—”
“Please.” Jesse insists again, nearly crowding Louis’ space with

urgency.
Of course Jesse is persistent. Of fucking course. There is little to no

chance that Jesse will let whatever he needs to say go, so it looks like
Louis is trapped. He definitely needs more liquid courage for this. Why
didn’t he bring multiple mini bottles with him? What a fucking mistake.
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“Um…yeah, ok sure…I guess.” Louis concedes begrudgingly, pulling
his jacket tighter around his body, hands stuffed in the pockets.
“What’s up?”
Jesse runs a hand through his dark hair, seeming to debate his words.
“Look, I don’t want to accuse you of anything…well because I don’t
really know you or the full situation for that matter, but...is there
something going on between you and my fiancé?”
“I’m sorry?” Louis frowns, blinking slowly as he tries not to break out
into laughter. That reaction may either be because he’s drunk or the
exact reason why he needs to get more drunk.
“It’s just...I see the way he looks at you and how you act around each
other and it’s just...”
Jesse is jealous. This man is actually jealous of the nonexistent

relationship Louis has with Harry. Priceless.
Louis’ brow furrows even tighter, swaying a bit on his feet. “Just
what?”
“Like you have a history…or something. And he won’t talk about it

and I don’t want to push him, he’s worried enough about Avery.
But…uh yesterday…he came home and…” Jesse trails off, looking
down at his feet. “I don’t know…he wasn’t himself? He was distracted
and a bit avoidant…and I know you spoke with him yesterday, so I
thought that um…”
That drink. That fresh bottle of tequila is calling Louis’ name right
now. The longer he engages in this conversation the more appealing
alcohol poisoning sounds. He needs to be drunker. And it needs to
happen now.
“There is nothing going on between us.” Louis declares firmly, looking

Jesse dead on, although concealed by his shades. “I was one of the
doctors who treated his sister before she died. That’s all. With
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everything going on with Avery, and me being her doctor as well…it
probably triggers old memories for him.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.” Jesse nods in consideration, seeming to

welcome that answer as the reason.
what the fuck do you know?
No wonder they’re together. It makes perfect sense that Harry is with

boring, bland Jesse. The guy knows hardly anything about Harry’s past.
Or about Harry himself for that matter. So he can’t bring it up. Or
bother him. The less Jesse knows, the easier it is for Harry to keep his
fiancé at an arm’s length and go on lying to himself and pretending
everything is fine. If this man knew anything about Harry, he’d
understand how fragile Harry really is, how much hurt and past lost he
carries with him from day to day. But Jesse obviously only has a
superficial understanding of him. He’s bought into the artificial version
of Harry that Harry’s apparently been working so hard to portray.
Jesse is the safe choice—the easy choice. And if that’s what Harry
wants for himself, Louis is in no place to stand in his way.
“Yeah, I mean…I’m sure you know how close he was to his sister.”
Louis adds briefly. “It was a really hard time for him.”
“He doesn’t like to talk about her.” Jesse sighs to himself. “I don’t
really know how to get him to talk to me.”
“Um…I guess all you can do is be there for him? As best as you
can…” Louis offers, trying not to sound purposely bitter or sarcastic
in any way. It really is a good thing that Harry has support, no one
should have to face this kind of thing alone. But is Jesse even
supporting him how he needs? Does he even know what Harry needs?
Doubtful.
“Yeah, I just wish I could do more for him, you know?” Jesse sighs,
glancing down momentarily. “I hate to see him so upset. He’s such an
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amazing person, I really love him and I want to marry him, but I just
want us to be on the same page. You get that, right?”
Louis internally groans, feeling an eye twitch coming on—once again

thank god for the tinted glasses. What did he ever do to be cursed with
having to listen to Harry’s lame fiancé profess his undying love for
Harry to his face. It’s the worst kind of sickening.
Ten minutes ago, Louis was on a mission to get out of here and get as
wasted as humanly possible. But on second thought, maybe there is
something he needs to do before he leaves the hospital.
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CHAPTER 6
the beat it knows is destructive.
||☤||
He did it.
Ugh, Louis actually did it. He was beyond drunk, nearly out of his mind
and he did it. He fucked Michael, the resident from Gastro. Or is it
Matthew? Martin? Oh fuck whatever, Louis actually just reduced
himself to using a colleague for sex. A resident. In a goddamn on-call
room no less, like peasants. He always said on-call rooms were made
for the undignified, those who couldn’t be assed to bring their sexual
endeavors home or at least find a hotel or something, but now Louis
is no better. Nine years he’s been working at this hospital and he’s
always managed to keep his sex life and work life separate. Until now.
Fuck.
What a mistake.
It wasn’t even good sex. Mediocre really. It was dull and passionless,
just scratching an itch. An itch that still itches. More like burns at this
point. Burns even stronger than it did before. No coping mechanism
is working this time. Work failed him. Booze is failing him. And now
even sex is useless.
There was a time when meaningless sex was completely appealing for
Louis, a momentary escape with no real strings or repercussions
attached. But now even knowing that the sex was always meant to have
no meaning, he still somehow wanted meaning anyway? He wanted
the closeness and the intimacy and the passion and the genuine
connection. All Louis wants now is for it to be real, but only with one
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person in mind. One person he can never have—ugh, what is wrong
with him?
Now he’s got some random guy’s head resting on his chest and he
hardly remembers even coming here. Plus, his own head is bloody
throbbing and he has this weird rampantly hungry, but completely
nauseous thing going on and basically everything is awful.
This is not how his day was meant to go. He was supposed to go home
and get sloshed. But somehow he is here, in an on-call room, in a tiny
bed made for one, with a guy he’s hardly ever spoken to snoozing and
practically drooling all over his chest.
Why the hell did he ever let Jesse affect him? Oh yeah, because he was
drunk and jealous and not at all thinking clearly.
However, with how gross Louis looked walking into this hospital, the
fact that he was still able to pull a guy just proves how capable he is.
That is the one and only silver lining to come out of this entire fiasco.
Louis isn’t usually one for ego boosts, but right now he really needs
one, so he lets himself gloat about how his charm was able to surpass
the shittiness of his drunken appearance today.
Carefully Louis slides his body out of the small bed, trying not to
disturb Mark? Marley—fuck it. As quickly as possible, he throws
himself into his messy clothes, not even bothering with the unkempt
sex hair falling over his face. Louis scrambles out of the on-call room,
hair utterly disheveled, looking down to adjust the drawstring of his
dingy sweatpants as he takes a few steps down the corridor. Walking
headfirst into…
“Oh…um…hey, Louis.”
Harry.
Of course Harry. As though the shame must continue and grow in

scale. A big, personal, fuck you from the universe.
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Louis’ head instantly jerks up, hands frozen on the waistband of his
sweats, cheeks flushed. He is painfully aware of how his appearance
looks, as he stares like a deer caught in the headlights through his sex
mussed fringe. And Harry is looking at him like he knows exactly what
Louis was just up to, giving him a head-to-toe once over glance.
Louis is just about to attempt to address Harry when he hears the door
he just came out of open behind him. Louis winces, closing his eyes to
brace himself for further shame.
“Lo—Dr. Tomlinson, thanks so much for the…consult.” The guy

comes up behind him and touches a suggestive hand to Louis’ waist,
trailing his fingers suggestively down his side. And in that very moment
Louis literally wants to die, feeling Harry’s eyes boring into him.
“You’re amazing. We should definitely have a follow up sometime.”
Michael or Matthew or whatever the fuck his name really is, is trying
to make this little ordeal look like it’s something else, something more
professional and justified, but it’s painfully obvious to everyone what
this really was. A sad, dirty, on-call room hook up.
fuck.
“Oh uh…” Louis offers him a pained smile, silently willing himself to
disappear into thin air. He wishes the earth would split open and
swallow him whole right now. This is absolutely mortifying. Louis is
pretty sure he is the brightest possible shade of red imaginable. Why
didn’t he just go home? Why isn’t he passed out from an alcohol
induced coma in his bed or even in his car or better yet, a ditch on the
side of the road? The sex was definitely not worth this level of
humiliation. “…Right.”
The resident, whose name may or may not begin with the letter M,
gives Louis another quick squeeze to the waist, accompanied by a
meaningful, drawn out wink before he begins to retreat down the hall.
Leaving Louis to deal with the aftershocks of the bomb he just
dropped in front of Harry.
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fuuucckkkk.
“So…are you two…” Harry flicks his eyes at Louis and the closed on-
call room door, his unfinished question obvious in its intention.
“Erm…uhh…ehh…” Louis tilts his head, scrunching up his face a bit

as he drags out his ponderings. At first Louis wants to deny it, quickly
dismiss the encounter as actually being a medical consult filled with
only professional discussion and medicine and education and very
important surgical things and blah blah blah. Until he recognizes that
spark of jealously on Harry’s face, that peak of unsatisfied interest and
envious curiosity creased along his features and with that Louis decides
to turn his shame around. He holds his head up indignantly, narrowing
his eyes pointedly at Harry. “Yes. Yes, we are—I’m fucking him, yes.
Or he is fucking me…um—we are fucking.”
Harry’s eyes widen in total surprise of the brashness of Louis’

statement, mouth falling open slightly. He looks even a bit hurt by the
words, something unfamiliar flashing across his features.
Good. Louis thinks, now Harry can finally experience what it feels like
to watch him schlepping around with his perfectly lame, cookie-cutter
fiancé all the goddamn time. Harry has absolutely no right to be hurt
about this, actually he has no right to any opinion whatsoever on
Louis’ sexual endeavors.
Louis adjusts his fringe, standing up a little straighter as he adjusts his

hoodie over his shoulders. “Do you have a problem with that?” He
raises his eyebrows in question.
“No…uh—no, not at all. No.” Harry shakes his head repeatedly,

stumbling over his words as he struggles to casually stuff his hands in
his jean pockets. “Uh…fuck away...” He offers an encouraging smile
that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Right then.” Louis nods, shoving his own hands into the pockets of
his hoodie.
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“Well, I was just um...looking for a…uh restroom…” Harry squints
his eyes awkwardly, looking around as though he is currently still in
search mode.
“Oh, three doors down on your right.” Louis offers helpfully,

wondering why the hell Harry doesn’t know where the fucking loo is
by now. He is no stranger to the layout of this hospital at this point.
Harry scratches the back of his neck cumbersomely. “Erm…thanks.”
They stand there for a few seconds, avoiding eye contact, but still
unable to properly exit the conversation. The energy between them is
so odd and charged and Louis feels like he is choking.
“Well…excuse me.” Louis pipes up suddenly, shaking himself out as

he starts to walk away from the situation. Ready to fly the fuck out of
this hospital.
If Louis has learned anything from this mortifying experience it’s that
he should never ever get drunk before noon and sleep with a random
person in an on-call room due to crippling jealousy. Because
apparently it will always come back to bite him in the ass.
||✚||
It’s been several lingering hours since his run in with Louis and yet
Harry’s mind still hasn’t been able to let it go. Flashes of Louis and his
ruffled caramel tinted hair and perfectly flushed cheeks and long,
fanned out eyelashes, traipse through Harry’s thoughts unwarranted.
But it’s not just how Louis looked that has Harry upwardly flustered,
it’s what Louis was allegedly doing.
Harry doesn’t understand it, but for some reason the simple idea of
Louis with someone else bothers him so much—so fucking much. Just
the sheer notion of someone else’s hands touching him, pleasing him,
holding him—angers Harry, when it shouldn’t have any tangible effect
on him whatsoever.
319
It shouldn’t.
Louis is a grown man, he can live his life however he pleases. And
Harry has a fiancé, a fiancé who he loves. He loves Jesse, he does, he
loves him, he loves him. Jesse is a good man, a great man and they are
happy and completely in love and as soon as Avery is completely out
of the woods, they’ll get married and it will all be great.
Great.
Harry loves Jesse and it’s great, everything is great.
Great.
i love my fiancé, i love him, we’re in love
—But.
There’s an understated but trailing through Harry’s thoughts, invading

his welcomed ideals, pestering him incessantly, causing him to
question what he thought was irrevocably true all this time. Harry
doesn’t at all understand why he feels the way he does, but all he knows
is that if he fucking uses the word great to describe his relationship with
Jesse one more time, he’s going to go mad.
But, it’s just that Louis…
Louis is…Louis. An obvious catch. Harry knows this—actually he is

painfully aware of this. For one thing, Louis is absolutely brilliant, not
just in the sense that he’s a doctor, which obviously takes a vast
amount of intellect. No, Louis isn’t just brilliant, he’s cunning—clever
and charming and impossibly quick witted. He’s totally unpredictable,
which is infuriating for Harry because he can never predict what’s
going to come out of Louis’ mouth next, which never fails to draw
Harry in even more.
And he’s so beautiful, physically stunning in every way. The effects of
time seem to have only caused him to grow more gorgeous and it’s
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stupidly unfair. Harry has always been madly attracted to Louis from
the start, that he is willing to admit to himself. It’d be downright stupid
not to, he’s not blind. But that was then—practically a different life that
feels eons away from right now. Harry isn’t the same person he was
before and neither is Louis.
but his blue eyes are just as bright as before…and his lips look just as soft as
before…and his smell is just as sinfully intoxicating as before…and…
Harry registers the sound of the front door opening and he shakes his
head to rid himself of his wandering thoughts. But his body seems to
not be as willing to clear those very same thoughts, and Harry is
horrified to find himself half hard in his jeans. He quickly palms his
crotch twice, just hoping to get whatever interest his dick has drudged
up to subside, right as Jesse walks into the living room.
“Jesse! Babe, I’m so glad you’re home.” Harry jumps up and throws
his arms around his fiancé’s neck, pressing their lips together instantly.
“I missed you all day.” He murmurs against Jesse’s mouth. Harry tries
to deepen the kiss in desperation, doing all he can to force his mind to
concentrate on his fiancé and only his fiancé—that he loves. Hoping
that he can morph hauntingly beautiful blue eyes into the man he loves’
gentle grey ones. But before Harry can even get there, Jesse breaks
away from the kiss.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jesse frowns at him in confusion. “What’s

going on?”
“What? Nothing’s wrong?” Harry laughs off nervously, fingers toying

with the hair at the back of Jesse’s neck. “Nothing…” He leans in again
to kiss him, holding Jesse’s head steady with both of his hands. As
wrong as it is, Harry will never admit the fact that deep down he might
be using Jesse for sex as a distraction right now. But his intentions
aren’t all wrong—is it really so wrong for him to just want his fiancé
to make love to him?
“Harry.” Jesse pulls back again, looking at him oddly. “You’re

acting…weird...”
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“I’m not acting weird…I’m not—I’m just really happy to see you, Jes.”
Harry smiles softly as he pushes Jesse backwards, forcing him to sit
down on the living room couch. Harry shimmies out of his skinny
jeans and drops himself down to straddle his fiancé’s hips. He even
takes it a step further and strips himself of his t-shirt as well, leaving
his body only clothed by thin boxers. “I just thought that we haven’t
had any time together alone in a long time and I’ve been thinking about
our talk the other day and I’m really sorry for pushing you away.”
“Ok, I forgive you. It’s fine. You don’t have to—”
“But I want to…I love you…” Harry kisses behind Jesse’s ear, nipping
at his earlobe. “And with everything happening, we haven’t had time
for us lately and I wanted to make it up to you. Let me make it up to
you…”
Jesse continues to lean away from Harry’s touch. “I’m really tired, ok?
Maybe later.”
“Please Jes, just really quick—I need you...” Harry grinds his hips
down against Jesse’s lap as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“Harry, seriously stop.” Jesse brushes Harry’s hands from his exposed
chest, meeting his eyes.
Harry sits back, hands dropped at his sides as he stares at Jesse for a
long moment, feeling a bit hurt by the rejection. “I’m practically naked
for you right now…”
“Yeah, I know…” Jesse sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I’m
just not really in the mood right now, ok?”
“You know what? Fine. Whatever. Never mind.” Harry grumbles

bitterly as he hops off Jesse’s lap, scrambling off the couch. It is never
a good feeling to be rejected and unwanted by the man who is
supposed to be the love of his life.
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“Don’t be mad.” Jesse calls after him, still sitting on the couch.
Too late, he’s already fucking mad. Plus, he hates when Jesse says
that, don’t be mad—as if Harry can somehow control his reactions to
things that clearly piss him off. Harry waves Jesse off without
bothering to turn around. All he wanted was a quick, easy fuck from
his fiancé to clear his head. He wasn’t asking for passion, he wasn’t
asking for romance, he really wasn’t asking for all that much.
Harry decides to take a shower to cool off and the entire time he tries
to keep his mind as blank as possible. He forces himself not to recall
memories of sharp, flushed cheekbones and softly mussed caramel
hair and the bluest blown out eyes he’s ever seen.
||☤||
After two thiamine loaded banana bags pumped into Louis’ veins
courtesy of Zayn, a much needed shower, and a long six-hour nap to
sleep it off, Louis is finally completely sober and levelheaded once
again. Well, maybe not so levelheaded, but he is definitely sober, so
that’s a plus.
But being sober means his reality has made itself infinitely present in
his mind and now he’s overthinking just about everything, mainly his
life choices over the past 48 hours. Louis is hoping that his next
surgery will drown out some of the noise and get his head back in the
game, but it’s not exactly looking so good and he kind of just wants a
bit of company right about now.
He is sitting in one of the spinning chairs behind the nurse’s station,

essentially making himself dizzy and wasting time all at once. Louis’
intention when he first sat down in this chair, was to log onto the
computer and finalize his surgery schedule and intended O.R. time for
next week. Something he’s been meaning to do all day, especially after
Steve sent out several emails about it this morning to all the attendings.
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Louis completes a full rotation in his chair just as Niall breezes past
the station, preoccupied by his phone.
“Niall!” Louis calls, jumping out of his seat so fast, he nearly gives
himself whiplash.
Niall pauses and looks over his shoulder, smiling once he spots Louis
behind the counter. “Oh, hey Lou. Didn’t see you back there. What’s
up, you good?”
“I’m alright, yeah…I’m good. Sure.” Louis nods a bit. “How are you?
Busy?”
Niall glances back down at his phone. “Um sorta, yeah…why?”
“Any chance you’ll scrub in with me in an hour?”
“Is it a kid?” Niall asks, looking up.
“Well…no…” Louis answers slowly.
“Is it a really cool case?”
“Um…define really cool?” Louis tries, knowing good and well his
upcoming surgery is about as routine and typical as they come. His
patient has a spinal cord arteriovenous malformation, which is not
nearly as exciting as it sounds because it’s really just a long way of
saying an aneurysm located in the spine.
Niall gives him a knowing look, that practically screams unimpressed.
“Please, I’ll let you be the sucker.” Louis offers with a winning smile.
“What? Let me?” Niall starts to laugh.
324
“You know…suction.” Louis clarifies briefly, making an unnecessary
sucking sound as an imitation of what the apparatus sounds like to his
ears.
Niall only cackles harder, shaking his head. “Obviously, I know what
you meant, I am a surgeon too you know. And as much fun as it would
be to stand by your side and suck away excess blood and bodily fluids,
I’m gonna have to say no, bud. I’ve got a full day today. Try Zayn.”
Niall tips his head towards Zayn, before continuing off to wherever he
is in such a hurry to get to.
“Ooh! Zayn!” Louis jumps up when he spots him rounding the hall.
“Wanna scrub in with me?”
“Why would I ever want to spend my morning watching you clip

aneurysms?” Zayn frowns, slurping on his usual almond milk latte.
“I’ve got real work to do.”
Louis pouts, a little bothered that Zayn reduced his multifaceted

specialty down to just aneurysm clipping. Yeah, it happens to be true
for his current case, but why is that always the default? He does really
fucking cool and complex procedures all the time.
“Oh, like what? Is it a boob job or a butt lift today?” Louis quips back,
since they’re playing up stereotypes.
“Neither, actually. I’m fixing a 3-year-old’s cleft palate pro bono.”

Zayn informs him proudly. “Not everything in Plastics is shallow, ok?”
“And not everything in Neuro is aneurysms.” Louis defends.
“Ok so, what’s on the docket for today, Dr. Tomlinson?” Zayn
purposely tests, straw between his teeth as he blinks at Louis
expectantly.
325
“…spinal aneurysm…” Louis mumbles under his breath begrudgingly,
rolling his eyes.
“What was that?” Zayn teases, cupping a hand to his ear. “Did you say
that you, a neurosurgeon, are treating an aneurysm? Well, color me
shocked.”
Louis narrows his eyes, but can hardly keep a straight face. “You’re
such a smartass.”
“Takes one to know one.” Zayn says back with a smirk, starting to
walk away. “Call me when you have a big boy surgery.”
Louis laughs, shaking his head fondly. He plops back down in his
spinning chair. “Well that doesn’t quite help me right now.”
“Honestly, your best bet is Liam.” Zayn advises over his shoulder as
he continues on down the hallway, coincidentally the same hallway that
Liam is coming out of. They talk for a few minutes, Liam laughing
heartily over something Zayn whispers as he leans into him. When
they break apart, they each continue on their separate ways, Liam
heading towards the station.
“Liammmm!” Louis calls, throwing his head back as he continues to

spin in his chair.
“Louissss!” Liam mocks in the same tone of voice, sporting a teasing

smile.
Louis lifts his head, grinning. “You wanna join me for surgery? Please
say yes.” He pouts, internally wondering if he is willing to start begging
or not.
“Oh? Do you need me?” Liam wonders, leaning over the counter.
“No…not exactly, I just want some company...” Louis admits slowly.
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“Why don’t you drag in a resident or an intern? They’d love that!”
Liam suggests helpfully, even though it’s not actually all that helpful in
Louis’ case. “It’s a great learning opportunity for them.”
“I don’t really feel like teaching—I just want someone to talk to you,
you know what I mean?”
“The residents make lovely company, you’d be surprised.” Liam

informs from clearly personal experience. “I know they are
inexperienced and sometimes annoying and everything, but some of
them are actually cool people and—”
“I’m feeling vulnerable!” Louis blurts honestly, interrupting Liam with

his sudden word vomit. He sighs heavily, running an exasperated hand
through his hair. “Erm…I mean I—you told me not to close myself
off again emotionally, so I’m trying not to do that…but I did
something really stupid—or I think I did? It feels like I did…I don’t
know. But I need to talk about it…I think...”
Liam rounds the counter to sit down in a free chair next to Louis.
“Ooh Lou, are you doing ok? Did something else happen?” Liam
coddles, attitude shifting entirely as he slings an arm around Louis
protectively, switching right into mothering mode. He really is an
amazing and compassionate friend. He’s always there to offer a
listening ear when Louis needs it and Louis is so appreciative of that.
“You know what? Ok. I’ll scrub in with you and we can talk all about
whatever it is that’s bothering you. Just page me when you’re ready, I’ll
be there.”
“Thanks, Li.”
||☤||
“Alright, so since I already know where this is probably headed, let’s

just get right to it.” Liam decides once they’re completely settled into
surgery. He mans the suction, standing opposite Louis along the
operating table where a section of the patient’s spine has been exposed,
327
both of them peering through a microscope. “How’s it going with
Ha—”
“Dr. Payne!” Louis hisses, immediately interrupting him and briefly

glancing around the O.R. He doesn’t need his hospital staff to know
all of his personal business. Yes, Louis wants to talk about it, but not
in such a blatantly obvious way.
Liam looks away from the scope and up at Louis in confusion,

eyebrows furrowed above his surgical mask. “Erm. So…”
“So…yes—well… I may have done a bit of an unwise thing…” Louis

starts slowly, trying to figure out how they can talk about this without
the whole O.R. knowing explicitly what they are talking about.
“Ok…” Liam once again eyes Louis curiously over the top of his scrub
mask.
“Um…so I decided to try out a new erm…hobby…like you

suggested…” Louis says casually as he makes a clean incision along the
spinal dura to expose the aneurysm.
“A new hobby?” Liam carefully applies suction before Louis need even
ask, the benefit of having a seasoned attending assist him instead of a
learning resident.
“Yes. Remember? You and Zayn suggested that I try a brand

new hobby.” Louis stresses, meeting Liam’s eyes and hoping that he
somehow gets it.
“Ooh! Right, right! Got it. Ok. So…like…you fully embraced this new
hobby?” Liam wonders with raised eyebrows. Somehow even with a
mask over his face, Louis can still see the dumb grin on Liam’s face
from sneakily talking about sex in the operating room.
328
“Yes. We—or um…I got down with a new hobby.” Louis confirms,
rolling his eyes a bit as he successfully obtains control of the blood
flow to and from the aneurysm, careful not to let it rupture.
“Well…ok…and did this new hobby…um help?” Liam tries, keeping

the surgical field free of any excess blood. “I mean—help you forget
about the…erm old hobby?”
Louis can tell that the surgical staff are all desperately confused, but
they keep pretending to mind their own business anyway, dutifully
going about their jobs around the O.R.
“Um…probably not my favorite hobby to be honest. Like barely a

4.5/10 on the…erm hobby scale.” Louis decides slowly with disdain.
“That’s actually generous, I’m leaning towards a flat out 3/10. Eh...2.”
“Damn. Really? That bad?” Liam wonders in surprise. “Huh…had so

much promise, that one...”
“I would have rather taken up knitting.” Louis tells him flatly, while
also trying to decide what size coil clip he should use.
“You’d be good at knitting.” Liam laughs, eyes trained through the

microscope.
“I would, yeah? I’ve got the hands for it and everything.” Louis laughs
along lightly. “Knitting will be my next and only hobby, I’m swearing
off everything else.”
Liam chuckles behind his mask. “Ok, but I don’t see what was so
unwise about having a go at that hobby. By that I mean the hobby we
were initially talking about—not knitting, besides the fact that it
apparently sucked.”
“Right, I’m getting to that part.” Louis answers, looking back down at
his surgical field, before turning to his scrub nurse. “May I get an 8.3
short please?”
329
The nurse already had a range of potential titanium clips spread out
and ready to go, easily handing Louis the one he needs, to which he
thanks her.
“Ok, so anyway…when I was, you know—wrapping it up with my

new hobby, the old hobby—that was never really a hobby of mine,
made an appearance…” Louis explains, holding the clip open with the
applier.
“Wait?” Liam pauses, putting the pieces together. “Ooh… oh!”

“Yes.” Louis widens his eyes pointedly over his surgical mask. “Liam,
my god. It was hell on earth. I’ve never been more mortified in my
whole entire life.”
“You poor soul.” Liam empathizes genuinely. “Well…what

happened?”
“Nothing happened? I mean I almost melted into a puddle of pure

shame and regret but…I don’t know it’s just so… weird, you know?
It feels uncomfortable on so many levels.” Louis sighs, carefully
inserting the clip on the neck of the aneurysm, watching it effectively
cut off the parent artery. “This is gonna sound weird but…I—ok, I
know we were never a thing but…it felt a lot like betrayal? Like his
face was so…”
“Jealous.” Liam finishes, nodding his head.
“Yeah…exactly. But he has no right to be. None, whatsoever. He has

a fia—his own hobby.” Louis corrects, attempting to keep up the
pretext, but it’s essentially pointless now. “But yet…I dunno it’s weird.
Weird is my favorite word for my life right now, by the way.”
“Weird?” Liam echoes.
“Weird.” Louis confirms with another sigh, purposely puncturing the

dome of the aneurysm to drain out the blood, which Liam sucks away
automatically to clear the field. “Anyway, I don’t know if anything will
330
really help me completely forget…the old hobby. I thought telling the
truth about it would help, you know? Putting it all out there or
whatever. But he just—it just got worse. I think about him all the time
and when I’m finally not thinking about him, he shows up out of
nowhere—he’s fucking everywhere!” Louis pauses to clear his throat to
regain some form of composure. “Ugh…and I hate it because I just
want to move on with a new hobby. Not that new hobby specifically,
but…you know…just a new one.”
“You should talk.” Liam suggests simply as if it’s the easiest thing in
the world.
“No? Again? I can’t?” Louis watches the clip’s placement closely,

ensuring that a second clip won’t be needed to support the parent
artery long term.
“You can and you need to. Just at the very least, clear the air, you
know?” Liam offers. “The last time you spoke, it was all emotions and
anger that you had to get out, which is good, but maybe you need to
have a normal adult conversation now.”
“We did that…at the coffee shop.”
“But that wasn’t real. You both were pretending.” Liam reminds
knowingly. “I mean a real honest conversation.”
Louis sighs, dreading the thought of ever having an open and honest
conversation with Harry. It sounds disastrous. But maybe Liam has a
point, maybe it is what he needs.
“Thank you for filling in as my therapist, Dr. Payne.” Louis says a bit
begrudgingly, only because he knows Liam is most likely right, as usual.
“And my sucker.”
“Always delighted to be at your service, Dr. Tomlinson.”
||✚||
331
There are many impossible things in this life. Things that can only ever
be impossible due to the vast limitations of order and theoretic law
that balance and govern the earth. Like being in two separate physical
spaces at the same time or having the ability to travel through time and
space at will or manipulating physical entities and matter only by
thinking about it and the list goes on and on.
But for Harry, although it may seem like a reasonably possible task,
the most impossible thing for him to do right now is get Louis out of
his head. Because no matter what he does, or how he tries, all his mind
wants to do is think about any and all things Louis.
And it definitely doesn’t help that Louis seems to be the only thing
Avery wants to talk about these days. Just on the ride to the hospital
alone, Avery mentioned Louis’ name more times than Harry could
count, somehow working him into any conversation. Harry is happy
that his daughter is excited about her new friend and there’s nothing
intrinsically wrong with Avery having another adult role model to look
up to, but it’s all so fucking complicated and Harry wants to scream.
“Um Harry?”
Harry lifts his head from the book he’d zoned out of reading thirty
minutes ago, gaze coming to focus on those same familiar blue eyes
standing before him. The ones Harry can’t help but see every time he
closes his own at night.
Louis stands a good distance away, but close enough to still be heard
directly. “I hope I’m not disturbing you or anything…um if you’re
busy or something—I can just say it later or—”
“I’m not particularly busy…” Harry shrugs easily, although if Louis is

planning on yelling at him again, Harry would rather not deal with that
right now while waiting for his daughter’s scans to be complete. For
obvious reasons, he’s still not over the last time and he’s not quite
interested in stirring up a fresh wave of tears in the waiting room.
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“Ok... well I just wanted to apologize for what I said in the parking
lot.” Louis starts gradually, shifting on his feet. “Not so much what I
said, but how I said it. I uh…well I have a lot of…mixed emotions
towards you—mostly anger, but erm regardless of that…I shouldn’t
have yelled…so, I’m sorry.”
Harry can only sit and listen, eyes locked with Louis’. Ever since he
heard Louis say that he once loved him, Harry hasn’t been able to get
past all that it could have meant for them. His words sparked a
disturbance, a heavy and guilty disturbance laden deep within his
conscience and now he exists in a constant state of unease.
“And I’m also sorry for uh…the other day…” Louis breaks eye
contact, looking down at his feet as he eludes to their unexpected run
in by the on-call room.
“It’s fine, Louis.” Harry finally gets himself to speak, brushing off the
apology immediately and willing his brain not to delve up the imagery
of a very hot and bothered Louis once again. Harry is engaged for fucks
sake and whatever jealous feeling he had towards Louis has absolutely
no merit or place in his life right now, so he is actively choosing to no
longer entertain the idea. “It’s none of my business anyway. And like
you said, I’m just the parent of your patient.”
“Yes, right—true.” Louis nods succinctly, reestablishing eye contact

for a moment. “But still…I shouldn’t have been so…uh…brash. I
apologize. It was rude of me and—”
“Consider it forgotten.” Harry interrupts with his own conclusive nod,

trying for what he hopes resembles a smile. Although he knows good
and well that he will not be forgetting any of that any time soon.
“Ok...um…” Louis nods slowly, and he looks like he is about to say

more, maybe ask another question, but his words are cut short as Jesse
rounds the corner, walking into the waiting room to meet up with
Harry.
333
“Dr. Tomlinson.” Jesse nods to Louis briefly, seeming a bit put off by
his presence alone with Harry.
“Jesse.” Louis acknowledges in just as clipped of a tone, offering a

tightlipped grin.
“Hey Jes.” Harry smiles intensely, standing to his feet and grabbing
Jesse by the ass as he pulls him in for an unnecessarily long kiss. And
if Harry makes it blatantly extra because Louis watching, he certainly
will not admit to it.
“You’re happy to see me.” Jesse grins against Harry’s lips, pulling their
bodies flush against each other.
“Always.” Harry reconnects their mouths, turning the greeting kiss

into an all out make out session, complete with little satisfied moans,
and groping. Too much groping.
Louis coughs in an attempt to remind the couple that he is still there,

clearing his throat several times until Harry and Jesse reluctantly pull
apart.
“Well…um…I’ve got to…you know…” Louis points vaguely down

the hall, taking a few steps backwards as he excuses himself. “I’ll see
you both in a few with Dr. Horan…”
Harry finds himself staring after Louis as he walks away, somehow

finding him much more interesting than the affections of his fiancé. In
fact, he hardly registers the sound of Jesse calling his name repeatedly.
“Harry, hey…Harry? Babe? Hello?” Jesse calls, tugging at Harry’s

waist.
“Huh? What—sorry.” Harry snaps his head back to look at Jesse,

tearing his gaze from Louis disappearing around the corner. “Yeah Jes,
I’m listening.”
334
Jesse sighs a little in agitation as he follows where Harry’s gaze was so
drawn to. “I was saying that I can’t stay for Avery’s appointment.”
At that Harry really starts paying attention, focusing completely on

Jesse. “What? You just got here.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s uh…it’s a work thing.
“But you promised me that you would come this time.” Harry
reminds, feeling himself getting increasingly annoyed.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Jesse apologizes, taking one of Harry’s

hands.
“You know how much I hate doing this alone. What kind of work
thing is it, can’t you get out of it?”
“It’s just a work thing...you know…the usual.” Jesse tells him, tracing
his thumb along Harry’s wrist. “But I can’t get out of it, I tried. I’m
sorry, Harry.”
“Jesse, I feel like…” Harry sighs, debating with himself on whether to

bring up this conversation now or hold it in.
“Feel like what?”
“I get that you have to go to work and that it’s been really busy
between us lately but...” Harry bites on his inner cheek. “I just…I feel
like…”
“Can we talk about this later, babe?” Jesse interrupts, distracted by the
incoming messages on his phone. “I really can’t stay.”
“Yeah…ok…” Harry dismisses, shrugging.
Jesse leans in to lightly peck his lips. “See you at home tonight, ok?”
335
“Mhmm.”
“Love you.” Jesse presses another quick closed mouth kiss to his lips
in farewell.
||☤||
So that was fucking disastrous—as expected, but still. All Louis wanted
to do is strike up a real conversation with Harry and instead he got a
front row seat to watch Harry feel up his fiancé. Not exactly how he
was expecting the conversation to go, but nonetheless, Louis has
decided to let it all go in finality. So he may not ever get closure with
Harry? Oh well, life goes on.
Or maybe it doesn’t. But whatever. He has spent enough days and far
too many nights laboring over this bullshit. And he can no longer
mentally or physically sustain the heavy tax to his body, it’s consuming
him. Louis needs to do what’s best for him and right now that means
letting it go as best he can.
Avery is finishing up her last round of chemotherapy this week and

her final diagnostic checkup has already been scheduled, which means
that in about a week’s time, Louis will hardly ever have to see Harry
anymore. And maybe soon after, he can finally start to breathe again.
Better yet, it’s all right in time for the holidays.
Speaking of the holidays, the gift shop has magically turned into
Christmas on steroids, the entire store drenched in so much tinsel and
garland, it nearly covers every available surface. Louis only knows this
because he finds himself walking right into the store, needing some
sort of vice to finish out the rest of his day. And the only suitable thing
posing the least amount of potential threat and impending disaster at
this point are Skittles.
“Back again, Dr. T?” Carrie smiles from behind the register. “I swear
you were just in here this morning.”
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“Must we go through this every time I come in here?” Louis teases
lightly, matching her smile.
“Yes, because you’re buying up our entire inventory of Skittles.” Carrie

informs him.
“They give me energy, ok? Please don’t expose me.” Louis tries to
defend. “I thought we had an understanding, Carrie. I thought we
were friends! Just let me get my candy fix in peace.”
Carrie giggles. “What would be the fun in that?”
“You know what? I’m gonna start buying in bulk just to avoid you.”
Louis decides. “I’ll buy a whole box and ration it out.”
“I’m pretty sure you’d eat them all in one day and be back again by the
morning.” Carrie replies knowingly and he can’t truthfully say that
she’s wrong.
“You make a valid point.” Louis narrows his eyes, but still ends up
grinning. “I suppose I’ll just browse the store and meditate on that for
a moment while I also pretend like I didn’t just come in here for
Skittles.”
“Whatever makes you feel better.” Carrie smiles warmly.
Louis laughs a little as he meanders deeper into the store. There’s more
things in here than most people would expect for a little store in a
hospital. It’s essentially a last minute, eleventh-hour shopper’s dream,
which isn’t at all surprising because most people who work here can’t
always find the time to shop for Christmas gifts after working multiple
shifts. This way they can do a bit of shopping whenever there’s a free
moment, breaking the monotony of strictly online shopping for
everything.
He picks out two Skittles flavors, Mixed Berry and Original this time,
and then makes his way over to the book and magazine section of the
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store, nearing the register once again. As Louis approaches, he notices
a mother struggling to manage three little wildly rowdy boys and a
crying baby in the stroller. She looks completely overwhelmed and
dreadfully tired, like she’s only about four seconds from having a total
break down in the midst of the store. From the looks of it, they must
have been at the hospital for a while and she’s running out of ways to
entertain her rambunctious children, hence the dire need for all the
toys, coloring books, snacks and various things to hopefully occupy
them that much longer.
She oddly reminds him of his own mother years ago, trying to balance
four little girls and all their many, many personalities and incredibly
lively temperaments. A ghost of a smile passes softly over Louis’
features at the simple memory. He hasn’t properly allowed himself to
think fondly of such things in years, hardly able to feel past the
tremendous heaviness of his memories towards the end. It’s oh so rare
for anyone or anything to get him to think anywhere near positive, let
alone fond when it comes to remembering his past, remembering his
beautiful family as they once were. It almost makes the truth
bearable. Almost.
The woman is struggling to find her wallet in her huge purse, probably
filled with anything she could possibly need for her kids at any given
time. But her boys are still being boys, attempting to wreak havoc on
the store, running around, touching everything, asking unceasingly
curious questions, all the while her youngest child continues to scream
and cry from the stroller. The line of people waiting behind her to
check out starts to grow in length, and the mother’s level of exhaustion
only seems to grow with it, looking physically overwhelmed as she tries
handle it all on her own.
Louis’ heart goes out to her, which prompts him with the sudden urge
to help and before he knows it, he’s at her side at the register. “Here,
let me pay for it.”
“What?” She questions, both looking and sounding impossibly

stunned. Her hand stills in her purse as she looks to Louis as though
she must have misheard him.
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“Yeah, I got it. Don’t worry about it.” Louis shrugs easily, the total
coming to a little more than one hundred and twenty dollars.
The young mother starts to shake her head. “You don’t have to—I’m
sorry for holding up the line…I’m just…I…”
“Don’t apologize, it’s ok. It’s ok.” Louis reassures gently, placing a
comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s not easy having a
handful of kids this age. I get it, I came from a big family and I saw
the exact same expression on my mother’s face countless times...let me
help you.”
She looks like she might cry at any moment, looking to Louis
incredulously, mouth agape.
“Really love, I insist. It’s no problem at all. Too be honest with you, I
hardly ever use my badge on anything except for candy. It’d be nice to
finally put it to good use.” Louis laughs a bit at his own expense,
offering her a smile. As a doctor, his monthly payroll deduction on his
badge has a pretty high maximum limit to spend in either the cafeteria
or the gift shop and Louis rarely hits his limit. There’s only so many
Skittles packets one man can consume in a month.
Louis offers his ID badge to Carrie over the counter. “Just put it on
my tab, Carrie. Oh! And don’t forget to add my Skittles to that, cuz I
really do want these.”
Carrie seems almost as surprised as the mother still staring at Louis,

but she does as requested, scanning the packets of candy along with
Louis’ badge. “You’re all good to go.”
“I don’t know what to say...” The mother whispers in genuine shock.

“I...you didn’t have to…”
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to—really, it’s alright. Let’s just
call it holiday spirit or something.” Louis smiles easily to reassure her.
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He always did adore Christmas, finding something so warm and special
about it.
The woman surprises him with a tight hug, fully wrapping her arms
around him, obviously touched by his gesture. “Thank you.”
“Of course, of course.” Louis hugs her back, until his pager starts
going off. “Oh, that’s me—I gotta run. But I hope you and your family
have a very lovely holiday.”
She offers him the brightest smile in return. “I wish the same and more
for you and your family.”
Louis falters only marginally, slowly transitioning into a small smile

regardless of the fact that he doesn’t have any family to share the
season with and he hasn’t since he was a kid. But there’s no need to
dwell on that right now, so Louis widens his smile, before moving to
dash out of the shop to answer his impending page. “Merry
Christmas.”
||✚||
Harry is lounging in bed, messing around on his work computer with

a huge ad campaign he is supposed to present to Adam in a few
months. But he’s hardly getting anything done, instead anxiously
waiting for his fiancé to get home. Since work isn’t quite cutting it,
Harry tries to occupy his mind and time with a little online retail
therapy. Christmas is in less than two weeks and he’s hardly had the
time to properly prepare for it this year.
Which is utterly disheartening because Harry has

always loved Christmas. Every single thing about it from the warm,
comforting scent of fresh pine to the twinkling festive lights to the
fattening food he can’t ever seem to resist. There’s something purely
magical about Christmas time that never fails to lift his spirits.
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And the only person who loves Christmas as much as Harry is Avery.
The two of them are quite the pair when it comes to the holidays, going
all out with matching Christmas sweaters, glittery elf hats, ridiculous
themed onesies and candy cane fuzzy socks. They never get sick of a
single one of their little holiday traditions, like binging classic
Christmas movies or going Christmas caroling or baking more
Rudolph shaped cookies than either of them can reasonably eat by
themselves.
But aside from the usual holiday activities, what Harry and Avery love
the absolute most about Christmas is giving back. Every single year,
they set aside a special day where the two of them go out shopping
together and pick out a bunch of different toys and clothes. Then they
wrap them up as pretty and as Christmassy as possible to personally
donate to group homes and foster kids. Along with gifts, they always
bring an assortment of carefully decorated sugar cookies and an
abundance of candy canes, while of course being festively dressed in
matching Santa hats. Avery and Harry always agreed that those kids
deserve a wonderful Christmas too even if they don’t necessarily have
a family to give them one. It’s something that’s incredibly close to
Harry’s heart considering his own childhood, and it’s probably the one
thing from his past that he’s found a positive way to share with with
his daughter.
All in all, it’s safe to say that Christmas is everything in their household,
the only problem is that Jesse hates Christmas.
Well, he doesn’t hate it, but he definitely doesn’t care for it all that
much, calling it just another pointless commercial holiday. He doesn’t
like gift giving, he despises crowds, he repeatedly says that the colors
red and green don’t go together and he definitely does not seem to
understand the real reason for the season. Jesse won’t stop Harry of
course, but he won’t really participate or get invested.
Harry gets it—sort of, not everyone loves Christmas like he does,
that’s fine, but Jesse is essentially some kind of Scrooge or maybe a
Grinch. That’s what Harry calls him at least, even though Jesse hates
when he says it. Harry thought that maybe Jesse would eventually
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warm up to the holiday, but they’ve spent three Christmases together
already and unfortunately he hasn’t budged one bit on his stance.
But this year, after everything Avery went through, Harry really wants
to give her a memorable Christmas and it would be nice to have his
fiancé’s complete participation for once. It’s her very first Christmas
in Seattle, a new house, a new neighboring community and they’ll have
to adjust their traditions to fit and all Harry wants is for it to all go well.
All he wants is to see his little Avie smile.
Jesse walks into their bedroom just as Harry is finalizing his shopping
cart, dropping his briefcase by the walk-in closet before stripping
himself of his blazer.
“I didn’t think you’d still be awake.” Jesse says in surprise, loosening

his tie.
“I was waiting for you.” Harry admits, closing his MacBook and setting
it aside on the bedside table.
Jesse crosses the room and drops down on the bed, crawling over to
Harry’s side in order to greet him properly with a kiss. “And here I
am.”
“Yeah…” Harry smiles a little, one hand held to the side of Jesse’s
face. For whatever reason, he feels so…strange. It’s not an emotion or
a sensation he can exactly quantify, but it’s perceptible regardless,
manifesting in the pit of his stomach and growing more uncomfortable
by the minute. “So…Jesse, I was thinking and maybe we could do
something different for Christmas this year? Something special…”
Jesse promptly breaks away and rolls backwards on the bed with a
groan.
“Just hear me out, ok?” Harry tries regardless of Jesse’s obvious

disinterest. “For Avie’s sake, she’s had a hard year…she really needs
this. Maybe if she’s feeling up to it, we could take her on a trip? She
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told me how she misses Disneyland…the lights are always so pretty at
Christmas time and there’s a big parade with fake snow, which is really
cute…Oh! And there’s a holiday fireworks show at night with all the
characters and I think she’d love it…”
“Whatever you want, Harry.” Jesse sighs heavily as though his fiancé
just gave him a death sentence.
Harry frowns, propping his head up on his side as he leans in a bit

closer. “I want you to be involved and surprise her with me.”
“You know I don’t see the point of Christmas.” Jesse reminds, as if

Harry could have forgotten.
“Yes, I do know...” Harry takes Jesse’s hand, linking their fingers

together. He brings their joined hands up to his lips. “But I’m asking
you to put that aside this year for me.”
Jesse only sighs again and truthfully Harry has never felt less
supported.
Harry rolls his eyes irritably, sitting up on the bed and dropping Jesse’s
hand. “This is exactly what I was talking about earlier.”
“What?” Jesse follows suit and rights himself, frowning at a loss.
“This!” Harry motions rapidly between himself and his fiancé.

“There’s like…a disconnect between us…”
“No there’s not, I just don’t like Christmas. I think it’s stupid and don’t
even get me started on Disneyland—”
“It’s not about Christmas, Jes! Or Disneyland!” Harry bursts, sliding

off the bed completely. He didn’t plan to bring this up right now, but
it’s probably too late to back out now. “It’s about you and me—we’re
not on the same team right now and I don’t even know why. I mean
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you don’t talk to me anymore and you’re always avoiding me and we
haven’t even had sex in—”
“I don’t talk to you?” Jesse interrupts, voice filled with sudden irritation
and Harry knows that this is about to become an actual fight. “It’s
definitely the other way around, Harry. You refuse to tell me anything
about you before we met.”
“What? That’s not true, I—”
“Louis.” Jesse states simply, narrowing his eyes in challenge like he’s
been waiting for a way to bring this up. “Tell me what happened
between you and Louis.”
“Why do you keep coming back to this?” Harry sighs, running a hand
through his curls as he feels a tremendous wave of exhaustion coming
on. “I already told you nothing happened.”
“There you go. Case in point.” Jesse gestures towards Harry. “I ask
you about him and you immediately shut down.”
“That’s not me not talking to you. That’s me telling you there’s nothing
to fucking talk about when it comes to me and Louis.” Harry defends.
He doesn’t need this thrown back in his face right now, he gets enough
of that from his own wandering mind. “I don’t know how many times
I have to tell you that.”
“He told me that he was your sister’s doctor...” Jesse reveals, eyes
carefully watching Harry.
“You talked to him? What the fuck, Jesse! Why?” Harry’s exhaustion
morphs to sudden anger, brain roaring through all the possibilities a
conversation like that could have gone between Louis and Jesse.
“Yes, I did, because you obviously were never going to tell me

anything! You still won’t!”
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“Because it’s irrelevant!” Harry snaps, raising his voice.
“No, Harry...I think it’s pretty relevant, all things considered.” Jesse
bites back.
Harry furrows his eyebrows deeply into a scowl. “What’s that

supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Whatever.” Jesse shrugs dismissively as though he’s given

up on the topic all together.
“Oh my god, Jesse!” Harry sighs heavily in exasperation. “We were

friends a million years ago…it has nothing to do with right now. Can
we move on from this? Just let it go, please.”
Jesse remains quiet, standing a few feet away. He leans against the far
dresser along the wall, running both his hands through his dark hair.
“Jes, I’m not trying to keep things from you…I just…I…” Harry
stumbles over his words, not because he doesn’t want to reassure his
fiancé, but because he doesn’t know how. Everything about the past
feels like a giant question mark and as much as his thoughts continue
to ruminate around Louis, Harry refuses to give any foundational basis
to it, just planning to ride it out until it eventually passes—
hopefully passes. And if it’s going to blow over anyway, there’s really no
point in delving backwards in time to shift through any of that shit. All
that matters is the present and the future—the future with his fiancé.
“I love you and I don’t want to fight with you, I’m sorry for how I’ve
been lately…I just want you to trust me…I want us to be on the same
page again.”
“We are.” Jesse answers finally in a far gentler tone of voice, coming
closer. “I’m sorry too—for everything, I’m sorry. I love you, babe.”
Jesse wraps Harry into a hug, nuzzling against his shoulder. And Harry
deflates into his arms, closing his eyes as he tries to reign in his
thoughts. But that odd, unsettling feeling hasn’t left him, if anything
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it’s only grown stronger. Pitted deep down in his gut no matter how
hard Harry wages to drive it out.
why do i keep feeling like this?
“I’ll help you with Christmas.” Jesse promises against his neck,
acquiring Harry’s attention in full.
“Really?” Harry beams in surprise, lifting his head hopefully.
“Yeah…” Jesse nods, gazing at Harry. “If it really means that much to
you, I’ll help you plan a Disneyland trip for your daughter.”.
“It does, it means a lot to me.” Harry leans in to press their lips
together. “Thank you.”
||☤||
“Is that a…hickey?” Louis asks the second Niall joins him in the
elevator, noticing the obvious love bites decorating his neckline
straightaway.
Niall blushes, lifting the collar of his lab coat to hide the markings as
he cowers in the corner of the elevator to get away from Louis.
“…No?”
“It is a hickey!” Louis gasps, of course getting all up into Niall’s

personal space to get a better look. “And it’s sooo big! Oh, Wesley,
Wesley, Wesley…” He tsks his teeth as he shakes his head repeatedly,
never passing on an opportunity to tease his friend. “She’s been hard
at work, I see.”
Niall blushes even more as Louis fusses over him. “Leave me alone,
Lou! Stop!”
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“It’s a good thing, mate! I’m happy for you!” Louis smirks, pinching
Niall’s cheek only because it’s hilarious how embarrassed and flustered
he gets. “You’re having fun, that’s really good.”
Niall glances at him, but can’t hold back his growing smile as his blush
starts to die down. The elevator sounds and the doors open, Louis and
Niall walk in stride to meet up with their mutual patient for her final
scheduled appointment. Avery finished her last dose of chemotherapy
two days ago and since everything has checked out, they get to deliver
the good news to her and her father today.
“Dr. Tomlinson, Dr. Horan.” Charlie addresses each of her attendings

professionally as she joins them by the station.
“Dr. Wesley.” Niall nods, sounding equally professional and also fake
as hell.
Louis looks back and forth between the two of them curiously. “You
know you don’t have to keep up appearances for me. I literally don’t
care that you’re fucking each other.”
“Louis, oh my god…” Niall groans, dragging a palm down his rapidly

reddening face. But his rosy coloring is no match for Charlie’s, who
currently rivals the bright shade of a ripe tomato.
“Joking, joking.” Louis teases with a little laugh to himself. “Of course
I care about you and your relationship. I completely support it. After
all, you’re kinda cute together…matching tomatoes...”
“Would you stop!” Niall begs, only proving Louis’ point as he reaches
the same red hue as his girlfriend.
“We agreed to keep it professional at work. Less messy that way.”

Charlie tells Louis after her blush has settled somewhat.
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Louis smirks in total amusement. “Oh well, in that case then I must
agree that the artful hematoma you inflicted on Dr. Horan’s
sternocleidomastoid exudes the utmost professionalism, Dr. Wesley.”
Charlie’s entire face colors right back to crimson, while Niall attempts
to further hide his purpling hickey behind the lapels of his white coat.
“You’re fucking awful.” Niall scowls.
“I love you too.” Louis grins, blowing his friend a teasing kiss.
Niall’s scowl melts right away as he can never stay upset with Louis for
long, but then his pager begins to sound from his pocket. “Oh shit—
I gotta go, my patient’s appendix just ruptured.” He announces in a
suddenly serious work tone. “You can handle everything with Harry
today, right? You’re good without me?”
“I’m not a child.” Louis defends, rolling his eyes even though Niall is
probably right to ask considering the many ups and downs Louis has
been going through over the last week. “I think I can handle one last
appointment with him by myself.”
“I’m here.” Charlie peeps up helpfully.
“Yeah, see, I’ve got your girlfriend—sorry, I mean I’ve got a very
capable young intern.” Louis grins at her knowingly and Charlie laughs
a bit in return. Truthfully, he would like Charlie even if she wasn’t
dating one of his best friends. She’s absolutely brilliant, demonstrating
a natural knack for his specialty and Louis takes great joy in mentoring
her.
“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Niall directs at Charlie as he starts

backpedaling down the hall.
“Yeah, definitely…” Charlie smiles privately at him. “I can’t wait.”
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“I hope you’re taking her out on a real date, Horan.” Louis calls after
him. “I better not see you having a candlelit dinner in the cafeteria or
going on a romantic evening stroll to an on-call room. It’s not cute.
My intern deserves better.”
“Shut up, Tomlinson.” Niall barks with no actual bite. “Charlie, you
know I would never do that to you.”
“I know.” Charlie giggles and Niall smiles at her full on, steps slowing
down as they stare at each other far too intensely.
“Get out of here!” Louis shoos, breaking them out of their weird
couple trance. “Go do your job! Your patient needs an appe! And my
intern and I have a patient to see!”
Niall waves and then jogs off, moving twice as fast to make up for the
minute or two he lost. Louis grabs a tablet from the dock, pulling up
Avery’s chart as he and Charlie make their way over to the exam room
she’s been assigned to by the charge nurse.
“Louis!” Avery beams the moment she sees him at the door, entire
face lighting up. Even though she already shines just like the sun,
dressed in a lovely yellow sweater with a headscarf to match. She’s
propped up on an exam table, swinging her glittery light up sneakers
back and forth while Harry stands by her side.
“Hi Aves!” Louis smiles back just as wide, always happy to see her
even if he just saw her the other day. “I’m loving the shoes.”
“They glow in the dark too.” Avery tells him proudly, kicking them
around.
“Wow, you’re just too stylish for me. I can’t keep up.” Louis
compliments.
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“You should get some for your birthday and then we can match!”
Avery suggests excitedly through a gasp, as though the concept alone
has made her entire day.
“I should, huh? I should treat myself.” Louis agrees with a nod. “But
do you think they’d look good on me?”
“Yes, of course I do!” She agrees without a single doubt. “And they’d
make your doctor outfit less boring.”
Louis laughs, looking down at his typical navy blue scrubs and Adidas
trainers. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Louis, your birthday is next week!” Avery announces next, sounding

more eager about his birthday than he is. She turns her head up
towards Harry. “Daddy, did you know that Louis has the coolest
birthday? It’s on Christmas Eve!”
Harry nods faintly forcing his gaze to Louis for the first time since he
came in the room. Since he’s remained purposely silent the entire time,
Louis hardly thinks Harry will even answer. That is until he does and
what he asks nearly drowns Louis in a floods worth of uncharted
memories.
“Any birthday plans?”
Louis blinks, gazing back at Harry with a sudden loss for words. It’s
unclear whether Harry even remembers the correlation his question
has to the past. Probably not, he doesn’t remember anything else
accurately, why would he ever remember the random promise they
made up on that grassy hill?
no matter where we are in the future, we have to celebrate the entire holiday and
your birthday together, ok? promise?
“Ehh…not really, a quiet one with friends probably.” Louis answers

finally, refocusing his thoughts. He usually spends the holidays and his
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birthday with his friends, one of them always hosting something small
each year. And if not, Louis has spent quite a few years with his
patients at the hospital. But he never saw it as a bad thing, or
something to get upset about. Saving a life is nothing but a privilege
and to save a life at Christmas time, only serves to put more meaning
into the season.
“Sorry I’m late, I had a hard time leaving work.” Jesse explains as he
abruptly bursts into the exam room.
“Always something with you, isn’t it?” Louis huffs under his breath,
suddenly irritated solely because of Jesse’s presence. It’s hard not to
notice the fact that the man always has an excuse at the ready. Avery
has had many chemotherapy sessions and progress scans and check up
appointments, yet this whole time Harry has been going to most of
them alone. The fact of the matter is, Jesse is hardly here.
“What was that?” Jesse raises an eyebrow at Louis in challenge,

seeming to sense the irritated vibes radiating from Louis’ body.
“Nothing.” Louis stands up straighter, meeting Jesse’s glare square on.

“I was just about to give Harry an update on Avery’s condition, but
you are so welcome to join us.” He smears on a fake smile, voice false
and overly cheery.
“Great.” Jesse grins back, looking equally fake. And Louis decides he
really doesn’t like this guy. It was mild disinterest at first, which moved
into the realm of unwelcome nuisance and now Louis just flat out
dislikes the man. But that’s really none of his business at this point. It’s
Harry’s fiancé, it’s Harry’s life, if he’s happy, so be it.
Louis shakes himself out and focuses on why he is here in the first
place. “Alright, so Avery’s newest scans as of this morning show no
new malignant growths in her brain. Her lab work came back clean
and all her vitals are exactly where we would expect them to be at this
stage, which means that you, Ms. Avery, won’t have to come in for
treatment much anymore.”
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“Avie, did you hear that? You’re all better…that’s wonderful, baby!”
Harry enthuses joyfully, wrapping her up in his strong arms.
Avery smiles, hugging her dad back tightly, but Louis senses that for
some reason she’s not totally happy with this news.
“She’ll still need to come in every few months or so for a routine CT

scan and a MRI, just to be on the safe side.” Louis continues, slightly
preoccupied by Avery’s odd expression. “She’s still a cancer patient,
but no longer a surgical patient. The worst is officially over. But if
anything doesn’t seem right—anything at all, like she starts feeling faint
or having headaches again or you just think she seems off, bring her
in right away. Or you can always call if you have any questions…”
“Thank you, Louis. Really…” Harry says genuinely, setting Avery back
down to turn his attention towards Louis. He offers his hand as well
as a painfully soft smile. “Thank you for everything, you’ve done so
much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it…”
He continues to hold Louis’ gaze and his hand, and Louis can’t seem
to let go of either. Harry’s expression is so appreciative and
dangerously gentle and his forest colored eyes are pulling Louis in as
they always tend to do without much effort. Seconds are passing them
by, but neither of them have moved their hands away or said anything
further, eyes locked on each other.
Jesse clears his throat suddenly, standing just to the left of Harry and
Louis.
Louis nods, forcing himself to break contact. He stuffs both of his

hands into his lab coat, purposely avoiding meeting Harry’s eyes again.
“Right, ok so…there are some forms that you need to sign and uh…”
He glances at Charlie standing at his side. “Dr. Wesley can escort you
where you need to go.”
“Yes, I can do that.” Charlie steps forward with a nod of her head.
“Follow me, Mr. Styles.”
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“Avie, do you want to come with me or wait here?” Harry bends down
to ask.
“I’ll wait for you here.” Avery decides quietly, peeking up at Louis
from where she sits on the exam table.
Harry nods, seeming to understand what his daughter wants without

her really communicating it. He leans in to kiss her cheek. “Ok, I’ll be
back, Munchie.”
Harry glances back at Louis once more in silence before following after
Charlie, Jesse going behind them.
And once it’s just Louis and Avery in the exam room, Louis closes the
space between them and sits down next to her on the exam table. They
swing their feet around together in silence for a few moments.
“Avery, what’s wrong, love?” Louis wonders gently, moving to rub

soothing patterns along her spine. “You don’t look very excited to be
all better.”
“I am excited…” Avery tries, but it’s not at all convincing.
Louis gives her a knowing look, waiting for her to give him the full
truth.
“I just…I’m happy that I’m better, I am I swear, but…”
“But what, little love?”
Avery lets out a sigh, head still hung downward as she twists her hands
together in her lap. “I just don’t understand…why didn’t—I mean
why...um…why did it stop?”
“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Louis wonders in confusion.
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“Why did it all stop, Louis?” Avery looks up and meets his eyes and
her hazel ones are lined with saltwater. “Me as your charting buddy?
Me going to work with you? People thinking I’m yours? Me being your
Aves? Why didn’t I get to see you till now? Why aren’t I…why aren’t
I still yours?” Her face starts to break as she starts to cry. “Why Louis,
w-why…”
“Oh, Aves.” Louis immediately embraces her, holding her head to his
chest to soothe her.
“It’s like I was m-missing something I didn’t know I was missing, b-

but now I know. I always felt like something was…but I…I didn’t k-
know—” Avery sobs into his white coat, hands squeezing him tightly.
“You’re what I’m missing. I-It’s you. It’s you, Louis…it’s you...”
Louis is at a total loss for words. He has missed her—god he’s missed
her, more than he could ever begin to say. His heart ached and longed
for her every single day they were apart. They may not share a common
bloodline, but Louis cares for Avery as though he does.
you’re what i’m missing too
“I don’t want you to disappear again…” Avery whispers with her teary
eyes closed as she clings to Louis. “I don’t want to never see you a-
again. What if…what if he keeps me away from you again?”
“Your dad?” Louis questions gently. “He wouldn’t do that, Aves. I

know he wouldn’t.”
“But he already has...” Avery cries, hanging her head as her voice fills
with far more sadness than an eight-year-old should ever have. “He
never told me about you and…and he n-never tells me about my
mother... he k-keeps everything from me and I don’t understand w-
why…”
“Avery, honey, your father loves you and he is only doing what’s best
for you.” Louis reassures her, knowing just how hard this can be to
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comprehend and accept. “You have to understand that he’s doing the
very best that he can.”
“I know he loves me…I k-know he does and I love him more than
anything. He’s a really good daddy and he does so much for me and
he works so hard just to take care of me...but…b-but why!” Avery sobs
in frustration, tears streaming down her dreadfully confused face.
“Why won’t he b-be honest with me? Why…”
“Oh come here, babes. I can’t answer that for him.” Louis sighs,
resting his cheek to the top of her head. “Sometimes in life, as we get
older, things get to be too hard and it can be really scary. And
sometimes it’s hard to talk about things and be honest about how we
feel because we’re afraid of getting hurt, but it doesn’t mean that he is
doing it on purpose and it doesn’t ever mean that it’s your fault, ok?
Adults still get scared and we still make mistakes. Nothing your father
ever did was meant to hurt you, Avery. That much I know.”
Avery sniffles against Louis’ scrubs, clutching onto him as though

she’s afraid that he might disappear into thin air. She’s still crying and
it breaks Louis’ heart because he doesn’t know what else he can tell
her. He knows she’s scared and confused about why all this happened
and Louis wishes with everything that he had the answers to give her.
“I’m here now, I’m here.” Louis whispers against her temple, rocking
her gently in his arms. And she keeps her small arms wrapped around
him, gripping Louis’ middle unwaveringly.
“But I’m n-not going to see you as much a-anymore.” Avery murmurs
sadly through her heavy tears. “I d-don’t want to go back to where you
don’t exist.”
“Hey, look at me.” Louis pulls back so he can look into her eyes
seriously, cupping her face with both his hands. “I promise we will see
each other. I promise. You can call me whenever you want. Day or
night or whenever, I swear it. This isn’t goodbye forever, little love.”
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Avery sniffles and Louis gently thumbs away her lingering tears. Her
usually golden eyes shifting to more green undertones as saltwater
brims under them. She looks up at him and tries to smile as best she
can and Louis knows, with every part of him, that he would do
absolutely anything for her.
“You can’t get rid of me that easy.” Louis smiles back softly, teasing a
bit. He pulls Avery back against his chest, hugging her tightly as he
presses his lips to the top of her head. “Aves, no matter what happens,
I will always be there for you when you need me. Always.”
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CHAPTER 7
maybe it’s broken beyond repair.
||✚||
Christmas came and went without the satisfaction Harry was

immensely hoping for. Jesse somewhat helped out as he promised and
they took Avery on a four-day trip to Disneyland Resort, which she
absolutely loved. But yet somehow it still felt…empty. Not the trip
specifically, Harry had tons of fun with his daughter and they of course
enjoyed themselves, but something still just felt off. Or maybe it was
just him that felt off. That lingering feeling in his gut growing stronger
day by day like a virus he just can’t shake. Harry can’t seem to reconcile
himself as he once could no matter what he does or how hard he tries.
And it continued on through New Years and then his birthday,
following him all the way to March like a dark shadow.
Harry thought the passing of time would equate to the inevitable

passing of his confusing feelings about Louis, but it seems as just the
opposite is happening. But the thing is, he hasn’t even seen Louis in
all that time, they’ve had essentially no contact in months. That doesn’t
seem to matter though, because it’s not necessarily the present Harry
is dwelling on, it’s the past—everything Harry swore never to go back
to. A host of memories that aren’t as forgotten as he’d like them to be.
Louis laughing at something utterly random Harry said, his beautiful,

light yet full laugh that never failed to make Harry smile. Harry cooking
dinner for them both while Louis gave Harry an exaggerated, yet
detailed reenactment of his entire day, complete with his hilarious
impressions of his most amusing patients. The two of them spread out
under the stars with linked fingers, Louis carefully watching him with
those eyes that never seemed to miss a thing, those eyes Harry was
always getting lost in. Memory after neglected memory, each one
evoking a new sense of longing from somewhere deep inside Harry.
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And to make matters worse, the other night Harry woke up in a
painfully hot sweat over an unexpected dream—a sex dream to be
more specific. And since it wasn’t about Jesse in any way whatsoever,
Harry instantly felt incredibly guilty, like he cheated or something
awful like that. But he didn’t? Because it wasn’t a conscious choice and
in reality he and Louis haven’t even had sex—ever. But regardless of
that, the majority of Harry’s guilt stems from the fact that when he
first woke up, he immediately wished that it wasn’t a dream, that Harry
really did have Louis coming completely undone by his touch,
enraptured by all the many sounds he makes and utterly overwhelmed
by how wrecked Louis’ voice sounds as he gasps out the softest I love
you, moaning Harry’s name as though his lips and his lips alone were
made to form the word—
this has to stop, i’m fucking engaged
Harry needs to get his shit together, how is he supposed to marry Jesse
when he’s having dreams about another man. Something needs to be
done about this and at the very least he needs to start being more
transparent with his fiancé. He hates the idea of talking about this with
Jesse, but he also hates the growing feeling of guilt looming over him.
It’s going to completely piss Jesse off, real or not, so Harry promised
himself that once he gets back from his business trip to L.A. he’s going
to address this entire thing head on and come clean about his
hopelessly confused state of mind. But right now, their lives have
finally started to inch back towards normal, for the most part at least.
Avery feels well enough to go back to school full time instead of doing
her work from home and going in only a few days of the week like she
was during her chemo treatments. And aside from Harry’s internal
turmoil, he and Jesse are doing good, they even locked down a few
wedding plans. It’s just not the best time to bring any of Harry’s
current stressors up, especially not as he is getting ready to go on a
potentially lengthy trip.
“Ok, I have to go, my flight’s in two hours.” Harry announces after

carting all his luggage to the door.
“I’ll miss you, Daddy.” Avery pouts up at him.

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“Oh, I’ll miss you too, Aviebug.” Harry scoops her up and she wraps
her legs around his waist. He blows kisses to her cheeks, tickling her
sides until Avery starts to giggle and squeal in his strong arms. “I’ll
miss you and I’ll miss you and I’ll miss you! Every single second of
every single day!”
“Daddy!” Avery squirms happily as she hugs her small arms around his
neck.
“You’re so ticklish, Avie.” Harry giggles along with her, attacking his
daughter with more kisses than she knows what to do with.
“Why do you have to go?” Avery sulks sadly after settling down in his
arms. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I know baby, I don’t want to leave either, but I have to go for work.”
Harry explains with the same sad pout of his lips. “But I’ll be back
soon. I promise.”
“But Daddy, how soon is soon?” She wonders, toying with a lock of
his growing curls.
Truly, Harry isn’t exactly sure how long he’ll have to be in L.A. He’s
hoping just a few days, but with trips like this a few days easily morphs
into a few weeks and being away from his daughter is never ideal.
Once, when he first was in the process of transitioning to Seattle, he
was gone almost an entire month and it was absolutely horrible. He
considered bringing Avery along this time, but with how much school
she’s already missed, it wouldn’t be fair to her, especially since she
loves school. And Harry also wouldn’t want her to fall even further
behind in her class, her teacher has already been so accommodating as
it is.
“You’ll be back in my arms before you know it.” Harry promises,

pressing a light kiss to her cute little nose. “And when I get back we
can spend a whole day together and bake cupcakes and watch Singing
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in the Rain and paint our nails and anything else you want to do. How
does that sound, Munchie?”
“Perfect.” Avery gives him a dimpled smile that matches his own. It’s
one of their favorite traditions, the two of them baking with their faces
covered in a mix of sugar and flour, dusting their hair white. Avery
doesn’t help as much as she steals stealthy tastes of frosting, always
propped up on the countertop giving orders and suggestions to Harry.
Harry wonders where she got her bossiness from and then he
remembers who her mother was. But they always snuggle up together
after it’s all said and done to eat them, Avery tucked under Harry’s arm
as they watch their favorite movie together, happily singing along as
loud as they can. “Just you and me?”
“Just you and me, it’s a date.” Harry presses another loving kiss to the
top of her head, wrapped up in a scarf, one of the many colorful ones
he bought her after she lost her hair.
Avery beams and Harry’s heart can only melt at how bright and
beautiful her smile is. He squeezes her close again, becoming more and
more reluctant to release her. God, leaving his daughter is the worst
and he wishes he didn’t have to work so hard, he wishes he could stay
tucked away with his favorite little munchkin forever and never once
have to leave her side.
“Be good for Jesse, ok?” Harry whispers against her cheek.
“I will.” Avery promises sweetly.
Harry holds her close, trying to soak up the feeling of having her in his
arms just a little while longer. “I love you, Munch. I love you, I love
you, I love you.”
Avery grins, hugging him closer. “I love you too, Daddy.”
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Harry sets her down gently, not without kissing her cheeks a few more
times. He then walks towards Jesse, standing off towards the front
door by Harry’s suitcase. He pulls Harry into a farewell hug.
“Jes, don’t forget, she starts school at 8:05 every morning, so you have
to leave by 7:30 or you won’t make it with the traffic.” Harry reminds,
a million and one things suddenly popping into his mind that he feels
compelled to remind his fiancé about.
“I know, Harry.” Jesse nods, pulling back. “This isn’t the first time I’ve
taken care of her while you were gone.”
Harry knows that, but it never hurts to be on the safe side. He also
made his fiancé a full color coded schedule, which he not only printed
out and taped to the refrigerator, he also sent it directly to Jesse’s
phone. So there really should be no excuses or mistakes. “Oh, and
there’s a Home and School committee meeting on Friday, and it’s my
turn to bring cupcakes. I was going to bring homemade ones, but since
you’re not much of a baker, I think you should order from—”
“It’s not that I can’t bake, it’s that I don’t like to bake.” Jesse corrects
pointedly.
“Ok well anyway…the mums in the committee are all on some kind
of diet, so the cupcakes have to be gluten free and also vegan—it’s
really important.” Harry explains, knowing just how sensitive his
fellow committee members are about such things. Since Avery just
started at this school last fall, Harry has worked extra hard to get within
the good graces of the Home and School Board, wanting the best
experience possible for his daughter. And after much ladder climbing,
he’s finally in the inner circle of parents, they even invite him to yoga
on Sundays now. And he is not about to let Jesse fuck any of that up
by bringing full dairy, full fat, full flour cupcakes under Harry’s name.
Knowing those mothers, they’d probably accuse him of poisoning
them and he’d essentially be excommunicated and all his hard work
towards Avery’s successful future at that school will be in vain. “I’ll
text you the names of a few good bakeries.”
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Jesse frowns. “I still don’t understand why it’s so important that you
be so invested and involved with all that.”
“Jesse, I’ve already explained this to you dozens of times.” Harry sighs,
sometimes it feels like Jesse isn’t listening to him, especially if Harry is
talking about something that doesn’t directly affect him. Perfect
example: Avery’s education. “And I really don’t have time to say it
again. Will you please just go the bakery for me?”
“Ok, I’ll go.” Jesse finally agrees, nodding.
“Thank you.” Harry shoulders his laptop bag before lifting the handle
of his suitcase. “One more thing, you do know Avery’s meds schedule
and everything, right? It’s on the planner I sent you, but—”
“Yes, Harry, yes.” Jesse nods obviously, sounding a touch irritated.
“Ok, sorry…it’s just that it’s only her fourth week back to school full
time and I want to make sure she’s really ok, you know?” Harry admits,
glancing over to the neighboring living room where Avery is quietly
coloring. “I worry about her...”
“She’s fine. You’re being paranoid, it’s been three months since she
finished her treatment.” Jesse reminds him, taking one of his hands in
reassurance. “I promise she’ll be fine.”
“Yeah…ok…I guess you’re right.” Harry turns his attention back to

Jesse. Maybe he is going a bit overboard with the precautions and
schedules. But it’s only because he loves Avie and he wants everything
to remain in order and balanced for her even while he’s away. “Call me
if anything happens with her?”
“Yeah, yeah…” Jesses nods his head, before leaning in to peck Harry’s
cheek goodbye. “Love you. Be safe.”
||☤||
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“I’m so glad we’re finally doing this.” Zayn smiles as he and Louis
settle in at their reserved dinner table. The restaurant isn’t too crowded
tonight, but since it’s one of the more popular and pricier ones in
Seattle, Zayn made sure to call ahead. “I don’t know when the last time
I saw you out of scrubs was.”
“Aww, how could I turn down a dinner date with you, mate?” Louis
grins behind his leather bound menu. “After all, you owe me a really
fancy dinner.”
“Order whatever the hell you want, I got it.” Zayn promises, flipping
through his own menu. A server comes by promptly to take their
order, both of them deciding on a salmon dish, as it is the house special
for the night and apparently a favorite among guests. And Zayn tops
it off by adding a full bottle of imported wine to share between them.
“So how’s it going, man?” Zayn leans into the table after they’ve
finished ordering. “Give me the dirty.”
Louis laughs a bit. “Zayn, what is that supposed to mean?”
“Give me the damn scoop on your life!” Zayn repeats with emphasized
clarification. “You’ve been working so much again lately, I’ve hardly
seen you.”
It’s true, after the holidays had settled down Louis dove head first into
his practice, overbooking himself to almost illegal hours. In fact, he’s
only free to have dinner with Zayn tonight because Steve practically
locked him out of the O.R. and kicked him out of the hospital. But as
of recently, Louis can’t stand having free time. He’s always hated to be
alone, but what’s worse is being alone with only his thoughts. But lucky
for Louis, he absolutely loves what he does for a living—
he loves surgery, so what better way to completely occupy his time than
saving lives? And since there is no one waiting up for him at home
aside for his loyal dog anyway, he’s free to work the outrageous hours
that no one else wants to.
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“I’ve been working, like you said, so…” Louis shrugs, lifting his wine
glass to his lips.
Zayn narrows his eyes. “Don’t be difficult, bro.”
“How am I being difficult, mate?” Louis grins slowly. “You asked me

about my life and I told you.”
“And you know good and well that’s not what I meant.” Zayn frowns,
picking up his own wine glass. “Besides, I need something to report
back to your horribly worried parents. Niall and Liam are beside
themselves, you know.”
Louis is in no way avoiding his friends—not purposely anyway, he

would never do that, he’s just been so busy with all the extra cases he’s
taken on, that he hasn’t been able to catch up with them properly or
hang out as often as they used to. But they see each other all the time
at work and they still have Lad’s Night, plus Louis wouldn’t hesitate
to make time for any of them the second they needed it.
“They’re being dramatic as usual. I specifically remember hanging out

with each of them last month.” Louis recalls, looking up for a moment.
“Liam and I went fishing—so fucking boring, oh my god. And we
didn’t even catch anything...but he was happy so I guess it wasn’t all
pointless. And Niall came over literally only to talk about Wesley—
which was surprisingly fun for me because he’s so easily embarrassed
and teasing him is almost too easy.” He snickers lightly to himself.
“But anyway, they have nothing to complain or be worried about.”
“You know your dads, they need a constant connection.” Zayn

reminds knowingly. “If it were up to them, I’d be wearing a wire right
now just so they could listen in.”
Louis laughs, knowing that even though Zayn is joking, it definitely

has a level of truth to it.
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“Ok, so let’s have it.” Zayn looks to Louis dead on. “Have you spoken
to He Who Shall Not Be Named?”
Louis smirks a little at how nerdy his friend is. “No, as a matter of fact,
I have not.”
“Hmm…interesting…interesting…” Zayn nods from behind his

glass, leaning back in his chair as though he wears the hat of
Psychiatrist instead of Plastic Surgeon.
“What’s so interesting about that?” Louis frowns curiously.
“Oh nothing…” Zayn answers easily, airily gesturing across the table.
“Please continue.”
“Continue with what, Zayn?” Louis bites back another incredulous

laugh. “That’s it, I have nothing else to say.”
“Interesting…” Zayn nods again, stroking his chin. “Very,

very…interesting…”
“Would you stop saying that!” Louis bursts.
“I just find it interesting that you aren’t being real with me right now.”
Louis blinks in confusion. “And by that you mean?”
“Here I am wining and dining you, giving you my full undivided

attention—which you know is hard for me to do and yet you won’t
even tell me how you’re really doing.” Zayn says, leaning in towards
the center of the table again. “Talk to me, Lou. Be real with me. I know
you get it enough from Niall and Liam, but now you’re getting it from
me too. We’re all worried about you.”
“Alright, alright, Z.” Louis sighs, he knew it would come to this

eventually, especially with the caring, yet invasive bunch he is so lucky
365
to call his best friends. “So I’m trying my best to move on with my life,
you know? It’s weird because before…years ago I mean, I couldn’t
stop wondering where he was and now…I don’t have to wonder
anymore, I know exactly where he is…but I wish I didn’t. So I’m
focused on my career and it’s good—I’m good, I’m ok. I’ve reached a
point of acceptance and I’m doing ok now.”
“That’s really good, Lou.” Zayn smiles, seeming touched that Louis
opened up to him a bit. “I’m glad you’re moving on in the best way
you can.”
“Yeah…I mean I really love what I do—you know that, so it’s fine.
Maybe I wasn’t ever meant to settle down with someone and have a
family or whatever…maybe my career will be enough eventually...or
something…I dunno really…I’m not quite sure yet, but I’m figuring it
out—or I’m trying to…” Louis explains slowly, fidgeting with his
silverware. “I talk to Avery sometimes though...”
Zayn raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? She calls you? That’s so
sweet.”
“Yeah. She calls me just to chat—she’s so cute. A few weeks ago she
called just to tell me a random fact she learned about walruses—cuz
that’s always been our thing.” Louis awes softly, unable to stop the
proud and fond smile from stretching his face. Avery could talk on the
phone for as long as she liked and Louis would never stop feeling in
awe of her. He misses her and wishes they could talk more, but with
the situation as it stands, it’s not quite realistic. Harry wouldn’t ever
deny Avery from talking to Louis, but Louis also doesn’t want to
infringe on their family dynamic with Jesse and their impending
wedding. At the end of the day, Avery isn’t his and Louis doesn’t have
any true right to her despite how much he wishes he did.
“Anyway, what about you?” Louis clears his throat and quickly
changes the topic, trying not to let things he can’t change get to him.
“How are things with you and Liam?”
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“So Liam and I decided that we are going to try being exclusive.” Zayn
announces, a soft grin settling on his face
“You’re shitting me—really? No way, that’s huge for you.” Louis

comments in surprise, jaw falling open.
“Yeah, man…” Zayn breathes out, nodding slow.
“Who’s idea was it?” Louis wonders.
“You know Liam’s been wanting it since…well since the very

beginning when we were interns. He only went along with our friends
with benefits thing because he thought it was what I wanted.” Zayn
explains. “And it was…or at least it used to be…”
“So what changed?”
“I went to a conference last weekend for ENTs or whatever—it

doesn’t matter…anyway I don’t really know how it happened exactly,
but I ended up telling someone I was married—like it just fell out of
my mouth in conversation as though it were true or some shit. And it
was so natural, but the idea of it felt good?” Zayn contemplates, still
sounding confused by it. “We always joke about being husbands, but
when I actually think about it, everything Liam and I do actually feels
like we’re married, which should be scary as fuck but…it’s not? I didn’t
know I wanted that for real. I didn’t think I’d ever want something like
that, the concept always scared the living shit out of me. But then I
started thinking about what drunk you said in the bathtub a few
months ago, and you were right.”
“I was?” Louis questions, not remembering half of what he said that

night. It’s all a huge blur, although Niall keeps saying that it was
comedic gold.
“It’s stupid, you know? After awhile it’s just fucking stupid and
pointless—having the person I want to spend the rest of my life with
sitting right in front of me and still thinking I need the freedom to
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sleep around. I never wanted to be tied down—I mean, that’s what I
used to tell myself. But now…I dunno, it’s like I feel tied down
whenever I’m not with him. He makes me feel free and
weightless…and the happiest I’ve ever been.”
Louis knows that exact feeling Zayn is describing, he knows it so well

that he doesn’t even need Zayn to explain any further. And he still
feels lingering sparks of it, flickers and traces here and there that
continually keep the rest of his heart chained to one person.
“I love him and he deserves so much more and all I want to do is give
it to him.” Zayn’s face is softer than Louis has ever seen it in all the
many years he’s known him.
“Aww Zayn, I’m really proud of you, mate.” Louis smiles wide,
genuinely thrilled for his friend. “And I’m happy for you both, I’ve
been wanting this to happen for such a long time. When you guys
eventually get married, I’ve got quite a speech prepared for you.”
“Please don’t embarrass me.” Zayn groans. “I won’t invite you.”
“Oh please, I’m sooo going to be your best man.” Louis scoffs
knowingly, sipping on his wine glass. “And since Niall will obviously
be Liam’s, we can tag team the speech and make sure all our bases are
covered.” He teases purposefully. “It’s gonna be epic.”
Zayn sighs heavily, shaking his head. “Fuck, I need new friends.”
||☤||
Louis pushes the double doors open, stepping into a quiet office.
There’s no one sitting at the secretary’s desk, but he hardly has a
moment to gather his thoughts before he is met by a frantic looking
woman, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose as she briskly jogs
up to him from somewhere in the back.
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“Dr. Louis Tomlinson?” She questions, nearly out of breath as she
eyes him hopefully.
“Yes, that’s me.” Louis holds his hand out for a shake, recognizing the
voice from the urgent phone call he received earlier. He hadn’t even
bothered to change out of his scrubs before rushing over here from
the hospital, only throwing on his SSMC windbreaker.
She takes his hand gratefully, giving it a quick shake. “I’m Principal
Hughes, pleasure to meet you, Dr. Tomlinson. Thank you for coming
so quickly, I am so sorry to call you here but—we didn’t know what
else to do.”
Louis nods in reassurance, trying not to let any of the wildly anxious
feelings inside him show through his features. He dropped literally
everything at a moment’s notice to get to the school fast enough,
dumping his non-emergent patients on a resident until he gets back.
Nothing on earth could stop him from being here. “Where is she?”
“Follow me.” Principal Hughes swiftly pivots on her heel, walking

through a side door to start down the long hall of the school. Louis
follows right behind her, keeping up with her long strides.
“It’s my understanding that Mr. Styles has been out of town on a

business trip to L.A. for awhile.” Principal Hughes starts, explaining
over her shoulder as they walk. “And according to Avery’s teacher,
she’s been complaining of persistent headaches and nausea all day and
she can hardly focus, which is not like her. She had a few dizzy spells
and then collapsed momentarily, so we immediately took her to the
school nurse and called Mr. Ryland, her father’s fiancé.”
“Right.” Louis nods along, brain whirling as he listens. “So is he here?

Jesse?”
“Yes…well, as soon as he arrived, Avery locked herself in the

bathroom. We’ve tried and tried, but she refuses to open the door. She
just keeps calling and crying for you and she flat out refuses to leave
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with Mr. Ryland. We didn’t know what else to do but call you.”
Principal Hughes explains further. “Her father has you listed as an
emergency contact as her physician, so you are at liberty to take her
under the context of a medical emergency, which I do believe this is.
I’m extremely worried about her condition, Dr. Tomlinson. When I
saw her she didn’t look well and she sounds so terribly weak. I hope
you don’t mind taking her—”
“I’ll take her, of course—of course.” Louis interrupts automatically,

trying to process all of this information, while keeping a level voice.
“Thank you for calling me.”
They round another corner of the school and Louis starts to hear a bit
of commotion in the distance. Picking up the pace, Principal Hughes
guides them to the nurses’ office, holding the door open for Louis to
enter first.
“No!” Louis registers Avery’s small voice echo faintly from behind
another door positioned in the corner. “I don’t want you! No! No! If
I can’t have my Daddy, then I want Louis! I want Louis!”
Jesse is leaning against the frame of the doorway casually, typing

something out on his phone. His face looks agitated and annoyed as
he outwardly sighs heavily. “Avery, he’s not here. Just let me—”
“No! No! No! I don’t want you! I want Louis!” Avery cries repeatedly
through the locked door. “Call Louis! He’ll come for me! I know he’ll
come for me! He promised!”
“Come on, Avery.” Jesse wiggles the door knob roughly in frustration.
“Open the door!”
“No! No! No!” She sobs, her small voice trembling. “Only for Louis!”
Jesse groans as he sags against the locked door. He lifts his head and
once he spots Louis, the agitation grows even stronger, shadowing his
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features darkly. He clenches his fists at his sides, looking defensive and
even a bit territorial.
“Mr. Ryland, this is Dr. Tomlinson.” Principal Hughes introduces

pointlessly as they further into the room.
“We’ve met.” Jesse answers shortly, glaring at Louis as though he is

the biggest nuisance in his life. “Many, many times.”
“Oh right, of course you have.” Principal Hughes nods obviously to

herself. “How silly of me to assume. Well, Dr. Tomlinson is here to
take Avery to the hospital—hopefully. If she permits.”
Louis approaches the situation slowly, taking a few steps closer to the
locked door. He turns towards Jesse, who is blocking the door, and
offers him a questioning gaze. “Um... may I?”
Jesse eyes him for a moment before throwing up his hands and taking
a step back to allow Louis to get closer. Principal Hughes hovers
anxiously behind them.
“Good luck.” Jesse huffs cynically over his shoulder as he moves out
of the way.
Louis kneels down against the door, figuring he’d be more at her
hearing level given her height. “Hi Aves, hello sweetheart. It’s me, it’s
Louis…I’m here.” He spreads his palm over the surface of the door,
pressing it against the grains of the wood.
“Louis?” Avery peeps hopefully, voice sounding uncertain.
“Yes, it’s me, love. I’m right here. I’m here for you.” Louis comforts
gently, keeping his own voice soft and warm. “I heard you aren’t
feeling very well.”
“Mmm…no…I feel...dizzy…” Avery speaks slowly, as though she has

to concentrate to talk. She’s not nearly as loud as she just was while
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arguing with Jesse, it seems the adrenaline and urgency of the moment
is fading and the severity of her ailments is rapidly returning. “And…I
fell and…my arm hurts...when I move it...”
“Oh, I’m so sorry Aves, I’m so sorry. That sounds horrible.” Louis
empathizes genuinely, trying not convey the vast amount of worry he
feels through his voice. “Can you, maybe, open the door for me?
Please? I only want to help you.”
“Are you…going to make me go with Jesse? Because I won’t. I’m

not…going with him…I’m not...”
Louis flicks his eyes up at Jesse briefly. “No darling I won’t, I’ll take
you. We’re going to go right to the hospital, ok?”
No answer comes from behind the door and Louis holds his breath.
“Come on, little love. Open the door for me, yeah?” Louis asks again
softly, scared that she might have passed out. “Please Aves. I promise
you won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Trust me.”
There’s another long pause, but slowly the door unlocks and swings
open. Avery peeks out from behind it and once her tired eyes land on
Louis’, a wave of relief floods her face.
“Oh, love…” Louis inhales, taking in her appearance. He hasn’t seen

her in a while, since she was last discharged, but she has lost a
substantial amount of body mass since. The chemotherapy process
had caused her to slowly lose weight, but now she looks even tinier.
Her skin is pale and gauntly, lacking in its usual warm coloring and her
eyes are rimmed in an exhausted red. Avery’s whole body is quivering,
skin breaking out into a hot sweat of chills and she looks like she can
barely keep her eyes open. She shouldn’t look like this. Since slowing
down the treatment, she should be looking better, not worse.
Something is definitely wrong.
“Let me see your arm, Aves.”

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Avery gradually unfolds her right arm towards Louis, allowing him to
hold it.
“Does this hurt, love?” Louis tries to extend it slowly, moving in

different directions to assess the severity of the injury. Avery winces
several times as he rotates her right arm to the side, scrunching up her
face in obvious discomfort.
It’s definitely sprained, maybe even broken. Her bones are most likely
weakened due to the heavy toxins that coursed through her body only
months ago.
Louis carefully positions her arm against her chest, placing her free
hand over the injured arm to temporarily set the fracture, preventing
further damage. “Hold your arm just like that for me, yeah?”
Avery nods slowly as she winces again. But even through all the pain
she must be feeling throughout her body, she stays strong, putting on
a brave face. As her eyes meet Louis’, they pour out a million questions
at once, but they also scream out an absolute trust, as though she
realizes that she is completely safe now, regardless of not knowing
what is wrong with her.
Louis kisses her cheek gently as a wordless answer, a silent reassurance

that he won’t let anything happen to her. He carefully adjusts her pale
blue beanie atop her head, tucking in the new little baby hairs peeking
out, before scoping her light and drastically weakened frame in his
arms.
As Louis stands to his feet, she cuddles her body against him, one hand
weakly grasping the material of his scrubs with her lower limbs
wrapped around his waist. “Do I need to sign anything for her?”
Principal Hughes looks shell-shocked at the display of unexpected

trust between Avery and her doctor. “No... um, Mr. Ryland already
signed the release form. But I have her things.”
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“I’ll take them.” Jesse offers instantly, taking Avery’s belongings from
the principal.
“Wait…” Avery murmurs, lifting her heavy head a little. “I want

Lemon…”
Louis looks to Jesse expectantly, waiting for him to dig out the worn
plush walrus from Avery’s backpack. He hands it to her and she
immediately hugs it to her chest.
“Oh, I do hope she gets better, she’s such a lovely girl.” Principal
Hughes worries genuinely as she walks them out of the nurses’ office.
“Please take care of her, Dr. Tomlinson.”
“I will.” Louis nods, holding Avery tightly against him. “Thank you
for all your help.”
Louis carries Avery down the halls of the school as Jesse follows
silently behind them. They make it to the double front doors and Jesse
suddenly strides up in front of them, knowingly blocking the exit with
his body.
“Jesse, please move.” Louis requests politely, but his eyes express
something far less civil, fiercely glaring at the man standing in his way.
There is a tense charge radiating between them, building up by the
second.
After a moment of staring Louis down, Jesse reluctantly steps aside,

following them out to the parking lot. But Louis hardly gets halfway
to his car before Jesse is at it again, placing his body cumbersomely in
Louis’ path.
“Mate. Seriously.” Louis grits, trying so hard to keep his cool as he

steps around Jesse.
“She’s not your daughter.” Jesse barks bitterly from over Louis’
shoulder, right on his heels.
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Louis just ignores him, one-handedly fishing his keys from his back
pocket to unlock his black Range Rover.
“You aren’t her fucking father.” Jesse continues, speaking out of spite
as he breathes down Louis’ back.
Louis’ body tenses as he protectively pulls the frail little girl in his arms
closer to his chest, one hand cupped to the back of her head. “I may
not be her father, but I am her doctor and she needs to get to a
hospital.”
“Louis…I don’t…feel…g-good…” Avery mumbles almost inaudibly,

her breathing growing more labored and ragged.
“I know, Aves. I know, little love.” Louis cuddles her close, whispering
against her headscarf. “Just hold on, I’ve got you.”
Louis opens the car door and gently places Avery in the backseat,
minding her injured arm. She shivers a bit against the cool leather of
the seat. “Oh love, are you cold?” Louis shrugs out of his SSMC staff
windbreaker and slides it onto Avery’s trembling body, zipping it up
to the top. “There we go. How’s that?”
Avery offers him a thankful smile, seeming to use all her energy just to
do it. Louis buckles her up in the seat, tucking her plush walrus under
her good arm before closing the passenger door. When he turns
around, Jesse is all up in his face again.
“You’re such a little home wrecker.” Jesse grumbles under his breath.
Louis scoffs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He does not have time
for this. “Look pal, I don’t know what insecurities you have with your
fiancé, but I’m not trying to ‘home wreck’ anything.”
“Oh, no?” Jesse challenges, stepping up and further crowding Louis’

personal space, practically pressing him back against the car. “Got the
kid to like you more than me.”
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“First of all, she has a name and secondly, I don’t have time to have a
pissing contest with you, mate.” Louis answers evenly, eyes narrowed
and not backing down. He holds his clenched fists at his sides, trying
to keep a level head and not let his growing agitation get the best of
him. “Avery needs medical attention. I need to get her to the hospital.
Just back up.”
Jesse narrows his eyes defiantly, refusing to move out of the way. “Or
what?”
Louis has tried to be polite, he has tried to bite his tongue and be the
bigger man, but this prick is standing in the way of a child’s life. “Or
I’ll fucking run you over with my goddamn car. Get the fuck out of
my way.” Louis shoves Jesse backwards, enough so that he can open
the driver’s side door. He hops into the car and wastes no time in
taking off out of the parking lot, leaving Jesse glaring after him.
Louis drives like a speed demon, zipping through the highways, hardly
stopping at stop signs. He keeps glancing back at Avery every few
seconds in the rearview mirror, talking to her gently and trying to keep
her engaged and conscious.
“How are you doing back there, Aves? Want some fresh air?” Louis
asks.
She feebly shakes her head no, holding on to her little walrus quietly.
“How long have you been feeling sick, babes?”
“A few days…” Avery whispers faintly and Louis has to strain just to
hear her over the sound of the road. “I told him…I didn’t want to go
to school…” She rasps weakly, head hanging, eyes closed. “I told
him…I didn’t feel good…I told him...” Her head lulls to the side, eyes
closing.
Louis grips the wheel tightly, anger coursing through his veins like
venom. Anyone with eyes can see there is something wrong with her.
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As her caretaker in Harry’s absence, Jesse should have taken every
precaution with her health. Especially knowing the life-threatening
cancer she just faced.
He doesn’t want to scare her, so Louis tries to keep his voice light and
even, pushing aside his ranging emotions for the time being. But Louis
knows that she’s fading fast and he just wants to keep her cognizant.
“It’s ok Aves, you’re going to be ok now.”
Louis uses the intercom system built into his car to call the hospital,
the line being answered promptly on the second ring. “Seaside Seattle
Medical Center Emergency Room, how may I help you?”
“Yes, hello this is Dr. Tomlinson, can you please page Dr. Horan and
Dr. Payne to the ER immediately.”
“Of course, Doctor. May I ask what it’s pertaining?”
“Just tell them it’s Avery and it’s urgent. I need them waiting outside.”
Louis instructs briefly, knowing it’s enough to alarm Liam and Niall’s
attention. “I’m 8 minutes from the hospital and I want a team ready
for an emergent pediatric patient.”
“Yes, I’ll page them right away.”
“Thank you.” Louis ends the call on the intercom, focusing his efforts
on driving as swiftly and safely as he can.
“Louis…am I…d-dying…” Avery mutters weakly, body quivering in

the backseat.
“No…no. Aves, no.” Louis repeats in assurance. He knows that he is

never supposed to flat out promise life to a patient, especially when he
isn’t 100% sure what’s wrong with her. But this is Avery, he’s talking
about. And Louis refuses to let anything happen to her. “Just try to
stay awake for me, ok? Can you do that? I know you’re tired and you
just want to sleep, but I need you to keep your eyes open. Ok, Aves?”
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She nods her head a bit, fighting off the heaviness of her body. “Ok…”
“Ok good, that’s so good, love.” Louis commends, nodding his own
head as he keeps on trying to distract her. “Um…so we haven’t gotten
to talk in while—how about you tell me about school? Do you like
being back in class all the time? It must be nice to hang out with your
friends again, right?”
Avery doesn’t answer at all this time, she’s hardly even moving, eyes
held open like small slits. Louis’ heart rate is spiked with exceeding
worry; she can’t hold on much longer and it seems like all he can do is
watch it happen. But Louis refuses to do that, he has to keep trying.
“Aves? Hey—I know it’s hard baby, I know…but please stay awake
for me…” Louis keeps his voice as level as possible, but the
anxiousness he feels is peeking through. “You have to try and stay
awake, ok? Just talk to me. Avery?”
And just like that, a small sigh escapes Avery’s lips as she completely
loses consciousness, head lulled against the leather backseat.
“Aves? Avery? Avery!” Louis shouts worriedly, watching her from the
rearview mirror. He reaches one hand to the backseat, blindly feeling
around for her wrist as he drives. Her pulse is faint and barely
perceivable. “Shit!”
If Louis was driving fast before, it’s nothing compared to his rampant
driving now. Weaving though traffic at almost dangerous speeds,
daring anyone to even attempt to stop him or pull him over. His only
priority is getting Avery to the hospital in time.
In what has to be record time, Louis whirls his car to the back
emergency room entrance, hardly shifting the gear into park, before
hoping out of the vehicle to grab her.
“I need a gurney!” Louis shouts, yanking the passenger door open. “I

need it now!”
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Awaiting residents and nurses alike all come running out of the sliding
doors of the E.R., pushing a gurney outside. Louis lays Avery’s
unconscious body down on the stretcher the second the medical staff
reach him.
Niall is among the emergency team and he immediately holds an ambu

bag to her face, pumping oxygen to start manually resuscitating her
body until they get inside. “Louis, what happened?”
“I d-don’t know...” Louis breathes out heavily, profound fear breaking

through his voice. “She was barely holding consciousness…and...I
tried talking with her—I…but then she…”
“Let’s get her inside.” Niall interrupts, knowing they need to move fast
to stabilize her.
Louis and Niall run alongside the gurney, pushing it through the
emergency room doors into the hospital.
“Bay 5 is free.” The charge nurse directs, pointing to an open exam

room a little ways down the hall.
When they get Avery to the exam room, Louis becomes the epitome
of focus and efficiency, trying to pinpoint the issue. Emotions and
feelings have no place in emergency medical care; he needs to remain
calm and push everything out so he can save her life. Niall assists as
they do a quick external assessment, making notes and addendums to
Avery’s medical chart.
“How are her vitals?”
The nurses work to stabilize her vitals, hooking her up to machines

and setting up IVs in order to start pushing meds and maintain her
respiration rate, circulation, body temperature and heart rate.
Everyone in the room is shouting out her readings, one after the other,
trying to figure out what needs immediate attention.
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“Breath signs weak.” Niall announces, listening to her chest for even
breathing. “We should intubate.”
“Heart rate low. Pulse faint.”
“Blood pressure is declined, but holding steady for now.”
“Pupils slow, but reactive.” Louis notes, holding one of Avery’s eyes
open to shine a direct light over it.
“Sorry! I’m here, what happened?” Liam bursts into the exam room,
immediately grabbing a pair of gloves to join his colleagues.
“Possible radial fracture on her right arm.” Niall answers briefly,

sounding a bit distracted. “But it’s not as important right now. We still
don’t know what caused her to lose consciousness.”
“I want brand new labs and blood work done right now!” Louis orders
urgently, filling out the order on his tablet. “Rush the results!”
“Yes, Dr. Tomlinson.” The surrounding residents all nod repeatedly,

quickly drawing her blood and gathering all the samples needed to run
a complete workup.
“Yeah, it’s definitely fractured. She’ll need a cast.” Liam confirms with
a nod, carefully palpating Avery’s forearm. He fashions a temporary
stint to hold it in place. “Are you taking her up to imaging right now?”
Louis nods head, throwing his stethoscope back around his neck. “We
won’t know anything for sure until we get new scans. She needs a
MRI—contrasted this time, something must be missing. There’s
something wrong.”
“I think we should also get an EEG and a CT as well to be safe.” Niall

adds, making note in her chart.
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Louis nods again, using his foot to unlock the wheels of Avery’s
hospital bed, beyond ready to get moving. “We need to get her up
there now.”
“I’ll go up with you.” Niall offers, raising the side rails of the gurney
before helping Louis push it down the hall towards the elevator.
“Page me when you’re done with her scans and I’ll set her arm
properly.” Liam calls after them, a worried look etched deeply on his
face that matches both Louis and Niall’s. They all know something is
wrong, but no one wants to speculate as to what, no one wants to
speak it out into the open. All of them hoping that maybe it’s not what
they think it is, maybe it’s not that bad, maybe everything will be ok.
||☤||
“Fuck.”
The imaging room falls deathly quiet as the newly processed brain
scans appear one by one on the large screen. Louis and Niall both stare
on in absolute horror, paralyzed as their worst fears are actualized.
There is more than something wrong. Everything is wrong. Louis

thought it might be bad, the whole ride on the elevator his mind was
screaming with all the possibilities, but never did he think that it could
be this bad.
“Oh…” Louis breathes out slowly, faintly shaking his head in disbelief.
“No…no—it? It can’t? No…”
it can.
As more and more images resolute across the screens, the truth is very
much confirmed. Repeatedly. Slamming Louis over and over and over
again until he feels utterly nauseous. He wants to close his eyes, close
his eyes and maybe when he opens them again, something else will be
on the screen.
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“Oh my god...” Niall blows out in shock. He’s not a neurosurgeon,
but he of course knows just how bad this is, staring at the daunting
scans.
Contrasted MRIs bring up way more than a usual scan, often picking
up things that could go undetected. And these specific set of scans
reveal realities that Louis would rather not bring to the light of reality.
A Grade III Anaplastic Astrocytoma.
A tumor, a massive, angry tumor. A tumor that completely disregards

the laws of symmetry, ignoring the natural anatomical borders and
parameters, butterflying over portions of both hemispheres of Avery’s
cerebrum. An invasive conglomerate of fast-growing toxic cells,
universally dreaded due to the way it weaves its way through the
integral portions of the brain tissue. In Avery’s case, starting from the
prefrontal cortex and extending hungrily all the way to the edge of the
hypothalamus.
“No...” Louis staggers backwards a bit in shock, holding a weak hand

over his mouth as he shakes his head slowly. “D-Did I miss
something? Maybe…I d-didn’t get it all the first time? Maybe—
fuck…Maybe…we weren’t aggressive enough…with t-the
chemo…maybe we should have combined methotrexate with another
d-drug like cisplatin or carboplatin or…o-or…”
“Don’t do that, Louis. Don’t put this on yourself.” Niall stresses

seriously, turning towards him. “This is not your fault. You did
everything right. These things unfortunately happen. Cancer is so
fucking ugly and unpredictable, you know that.”
Louis stands with unfocused eyes, one hand rubbing his temple
incessantly as he bites down hard on his lower lip. “I just…I…”
“Louis, you know as well as I do that even the smallest trace of a

malignancy can bring the cancer back at full force, faster and even
more aggressive than before.”
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“But my m-margins were clean…and…and…her scans were clean
when we discharged her a few months ago…how h-how?” Louis again
shakes his head at a complete loss, just staring unblinkingly at the
horrifying scans in front of him as he plays back everything in his
mind. “This…I…I…” His voice breaks off, mouth falling dry and
useless. Her previous tumor was only a Grade I, reasonably sized and
reachable. But this is so much worse than before. The integral
placement, the looming size, the calculated integration, the daunting
presentation, the sophisticated intelligence of this tumor…
It’s all so much worse.
“If there was anything there before you couldn’t have seen it in time.
You didn’t know. I didn’t know.” Niall tries again, skin having turned
as pale and ghastly as a ghost. “We gave her the dosage her body could
take, we treated her to the very best of our ability. This was completely
out of your control.”
Louis stares, just stares at the condemning screens before him. Willing
them to be wrong, willing them to magically morph, to wishfully
change into the perfect depiction of health. To display perfect,
untarnished brain tissue.
This isn’t fair. This isn’t just or warranted. This is cruel—life is cruel.
He drops his heavy body down into one of the rolling chairs, holding
his head in his hands as he tries to take in deep breaths, breaths that
refuse to come easily.
“It’s ok to cry, Lou.” Niall says gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“She’s more to you than just a patient. It’s ok to cry.”
Louis knows it’s ok to cry, he knows that maybe it’s even appropriate
to cry. But he doesn’t cry. He can’t cry. After all he has sustained in his
lifetime if he started crying now, he’d probably never stop. So Louis
doesn’t cry. He doesn’t. Not since he was a terrified seventeen-year-old
kid and—not for years. He refuses.
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“Lou, are you alright?” Niall worries, placing a warm palm on Louis’
shoulder as he kneels down next to his friend.
Louis offers no answer, sitting motionless with a hand pressed against

the scan on the screen. This girl has already been through so much, so
much underserved pain and suffering. She is a warrior, a survivor. She
faced and overcame major brain surgery, completed rounds of
chemotherapy only to be put right back in an even worse spot than
before at only eight-years-old. How is this justified? How can anyone
cope with this?
“All we can do now is move forward.” Niall comforts positively,

although his voice is solemn and unsteady. “We will run some more
tests, get a full view of this thing…and once the new labs come in, we
will work on developing a new plan of action for her.”
that’s not good enough.
Louis needs someone to blame this on. He needs a way to deflect this,
a place to target his frustrations. Why wasn’t Avery checked in sooner?
Maybe Louis could have done something—anything, if she was only
brought in just a little bit sooner. There is no way in hell she wasn’t
showing some kind of symptoms before a few hours ago. Why didn’t
someone notice and take her in for a check up? Why did this take so
long to discover?
Suddenly Louis remembers Avery’s faint words whispered earlier in

the car.
i told him i didn’t feel good…i told him…
Jesse.
Fucking Jesse.
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“Oh, I have a plan alright.” Louis seethes through his clenched teeth
as he hops up onto his feet and storms out of the imaging room.
“Louis? Louis, where are you going?” Niall calls behind him, but Louis
doesn’t give two fucks. He is livid, hyped up on nothing but all-
consuming indignation.
Louis rages through the hospital, taking his steps two at a time,
continually fueled on pure anger and resentment. It only takes a matter
of minutes, it seems, before Louis has reached the usually somber
waiting area.
“You fucking asshole!” Louis shouts furiously across the waiting

room, storming in recklessly, filled with blind fury. Medical personnel
and awaiting patient family, all turn their heads in alarm. “She told you
that she wasn’t feeling well! That she was sick and lightheaded and you
fucking sent her to school anyway!”
Jesse looks up from his phone as Louis approaches him wildly, sitting
with crossed legs in a chair at the far corner of the open space. “Wha—
”
“She’s sick!” Louis screams angrily before Jesse can even think about
asking a question. He knows he is being irrational, he knows a few days
couldn’t have prevented any of this, but he needs an outlet for his
frustrations, he needs to find blame in someone and Jesse is by far the
guiltiest party. Avery needlessly suffered because of his carelessness
and Louis cannot and will not let that go by uncontested. “Her
condition is delicate and can change at any time!”
“She was fine!” Jesse defends, standing to his feet. “You already got
her tumor—”
“She was fine?! Oh, she was FINE?” Louis mocks brashly, face-to-
face with Jesse. “Are you a doctor now?! You go to medical school,
pal?!”
385
Jesse stutters unintelligibly, shaking his head as he backs away from
Louis nervously.
“Oh, no? I didn’t think so, you piece of shit!” Louis roars, pressing
forward brazenly. “She has another fucking tumor and who knows
what could have happened if—”
“Louis, come on. Stop.” Niall locks his arms around Louis’ swinging
body, holding him back as he continues to fight. Louis hadn’t even
noticed that he followed him all the way here. “This isn’t helping. It’s
not his fault.”
Louis wiggles his way out of Niall’s hold, pressing closer to Jesse. “If
Harry knew about what you did—”
“It’s not your place to tell him.” Jesse argues back boldly, leaning into
Louis in challenge.
“Not my place?!” Louis shrieks furiously, lunging at Jesse again with

nothing but irate malice in his gaze. He could choke Jesse, he could
choke him and sleep easily at night. Fuck the medical oath, fuck do no
harm, fuck it all. “I’ll tell you what my fucking place is jackass—”
“Louis!” Niall uses his entire body to drag him backwards, tightening
his arms around Louis’ thrashing body. Louis has already made quite
a scene, but he couldn’t care less. “It’s not worth it.” He whispers,
holding Louis back. “Come on, you can’t help her if you lose your
medical license.”
“Fuck you, Jesse!” Louis spits angrily, reluctantly allowing Niall to

slowly pull his body out of the waiting room. “Fuck you…”
Once a safe distance away, Niall cautiously lets him go, releasing his
vice grip from a struggling Louis. “Walk it off, Lou.”
“I’m fine, ok? I’m good. Fuck.” Louis brushes him off, holding up his
arms. He is breathing heavily as he walks down the hall, adrenaline
386
spiked in his veins. His fists are still clenched and he has such a strong
urge to just lash out and punch something. Louis settles for kicking a
lone cart against the wall, knocking a tray of supplies down as he makes
his way down the hall. “FUCK!”
He decides to go down to The Pit, maybe help out there as best he can
and make himself useful in some way. Distractions are good, it’ll keep
his mind busy if he stays busy—if he stays moving. Louis slips on a
yellow trauma gown, tying the loops behind his back over his scrubs.
The adrenaline and rush of emotion has left his system and now he
stands void of any tangible and identifiable feeling. Louis stands in the
middle of the emergency room, hardly aware of his surroundings,
hardly aware of much of anything.
“Oh hey, Dr. Tomlinson!” A resident calls. “I rounded on all your

post-op and pre-op patients just like you asked…”
Louis stares off blankly, gazing right through the resident standing in
front of him.
“One of the post-ops—a spinal tumor resection…He erm coded while

you were gone—I mean he’s fine now, but um I think he might be
going into renal failure…so General is taking over his case, but I
thought you should know.”
Louis can’t move. All he can think about is the fact that his Avery is
sick once again and somehow he is going to have to muster up the
strength to tell Harry. Harry who probably expected to come home to
his healthy daughter, Harry who can’t take another loss—not one like
this, not like this…
“These are his post-op scans and—Dr. Tomlinson?”
Still in a trance, Louis remains utterly soundless. He can’t get his mind
to focus on anything, everything sounds like blurred static to his ears.
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He vaguely feels his hands start shaking at his sides, his legs feel faint
and his breathing is erratic.
“Dr. Tomlinson, are you ok? You look a bit pale…do you want to sit
down, I—”
“No, no…I’m ok…I’m…” Louis trails off as he forces his mind to

somewhat register at least a few of the words that previously came out
of the resident’s mouth. “Erm—ok right uh…thanks for the update.
Keep up the good uh w-work yeah—thanks…” He stutters weakly,
stripping off the gown he just put on, as he stumbles for the exit.
Louis hardly knows what he just said, but he doesn’t care. All he knows
is he can’t be here right now, he can’t practice medicine right now, in
fact he can hardly breathe right now, the weight of seemingly a
thousand problems pelting down at his back. Louis rides the service
elevator all the way to the roof, staggering in a new breath as the fresh
Seattle air hits his face.
And Louis stands there alone on the center of the roof, hunched over
his knees as he forces himself to take in repeated breaths. His mind
races as he tries to figure out how to tell a weary father of a sick child
that the war he thought they won isn’t over, that the peace he thought
he had is all in vain, that his hellish nightmare lives on.
That the world is very much still on fire and Louis has no idea how
extinguish the flames.
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CHAPTER 8
a heart shattered too many times to number.
||✚||
“I’m here! I’m here!” Harry shouts urgently, running up to the nurses’
station, panting. “What happened? Where’s my daughter? Is she ok?
Where is she? I need—”
“Sir, sir please calm down.” The nurse soothes, standing to her feet to
address him.
Harry looks around madly, eyes darting and panicked. He can’t calm
down—how can he be expected to fucking calm down? He rushed
across the entire west coast after getting a vague call from SSMC that
his daughter had been hospitalized. Jesse sent him a few texts, but as
he is not her legal guardian, the hospital didn’t release any new
information to him. “Is she back there? Is she alright?”
“Sir, what’s your daughter’s name?” The nurse behind the desk asks
gently. Her eyes are kind and genuine, watching Harry with concern.
“A-Avery.” Harry stutters, hands trembling as he cards them through

his disheveled hair anxiously. He feels the prickle of tears already
building in his eyes, pure fear overtaking his entire body in the form
of uncertainty. “Avery Styles. S-she’s…she’s eight y-years old and—”
“Harry?”
“Jesse.” Harry sighs at the sound of a familiar voice, collapsing heavily

into his fiancé’s arms the second he sees him. He buries his head into
the crook of Jesse’s neck, hoping it will somehow ground him enough
to push through this. “What h-happened? All they told me is that she’d
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been admitted and…and that they c-can’t release medical information
over the phone.”
“I don’t know, babe.” Jesse runs his hands up and down Harry’s back
gently. “I don't know, she was feeling ill at school and I went to get
her—”
“Loui—Dr. Tomlinson!” Harry’s eyes instantly widen as he spots

Louis walking towards them over Jesse’s shoulder. He slinks out of
Jesse’s arms to meet up with Louis instead. “Where is Avie? Is she ok?
What happened to her?”
Louis’ whole body is stiff and tense, as though he is using all his energy
to contain himself. Yet despite the rigidity of his body, his eyes are far
more vulnerable and deeply sad. “She is stable for now, but...” He
glances at Jesse as he pauses, the two of them making charged eye
contact. Harry looks between them trying to figure out what’s going
on, but his head is spinning and shouting and he can’t focus on
anything but the but Louis’ sentence ended on. Louis slightly shakes
his head as if decisively clearing his mind. “Um, let’s go somewhere
quieter. Please follow me.”
Harry feels Jesse take his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze as they
silently follow Louis to a vacant conference room.
“Have a seat.” Louis instructs, holding the door open for them, digital
chart clutched to his chest.
Harry and Jesse take a seat next to each other at the long table, Louis
sitting across from them. His face is unreadable and essentially void of
emotion except when Harry meets his eyes. Louis’ eyes tell a story,
they always do. The sapphire blue of his irises give him away every
time. They depict sadness, a heavy despondency mixed with traces of
lingering anger, and Harry knows without a shadow of a doubt that
there is something he’s not saying, something he’s purposefully
holding back.
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“Louis, what is it? Just tell us.” Harry urges in desperation. The longer
he has to wait, the more he internally loses it. Piece by piece, he can
feel himself slowly crumbling apart from the inside out.
Louis’ jaw tenses, he looks down for a moment, seeming to collect

himself before he looks up again, taking a deep, self-soothing breath.
“Harry…” His gaze wanders to Jesse momentarily, growing cold and
harsh before he meets Harry’s eyes with sudden warmth and empathy.
“There is no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come out and
say it straightaway.” If possible Louis’ eyes manage to soften even
more as he speaks directly to Harry, voice incredibly gentle. “Avery
has another tumor. Her cancer is back.”
Harry blinks several times in confused disbelief, a million questions

swarming his mind at once. He thought they were past this, that they
got over the hardest part. Yes, Harry worries about his daughter falling
ill again constantly, but those are supposed to be irrational fears, not
realities. She should be cured and healed and whole again. Avery’s
surgery had been a success and she’d been following the post operative
treatment and attending chemotherapy sessions regularly up until she
was discharged a few months ago, which was supposed to signify the
end of all this.
how? how is this happening again?
“But I thought...I t-thought—” Harry stutters out, head

subconsciously shaking with confusion. He feels Jesse place a calming
palm over his back, scooting in closer as he rubs small circles along his
spine. “I thought you…”
Louis nods in understanding, seeming to perceive all of Harry’s

worries despite his lack of actual communication. “During Avery’s last
surgery, I was able to resect the entirety of the tumor, at least what was
perceivable at the time. But with a cancer like this, as unfortunately
aggressive as this, new anaplastic cells can manifest rapidly, sometimes
undetected.” He explains using his professional doctor voice, but his
eyes never leave Harry’s as he speaks in gentle tones. “The severity of
your daughter’s new tumor is still being scoped out using contrasted
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scans with higher resolution. Dr. Horan and I, as well as our best
oncologists are working on a plan of treatment. I assure you we will
do everything within our power to treat her.”
“Oh god...” Harry inhales shakily, covering his mouth with a single
hand and closing his tearful eyes. Jesse comforts him while Louis
averts his eyes to his tablet. “Is s-she ok? Like right now? Is she in any
p-pain?” He asks in a weak, terrified voice, choking on a sob as he
slowly opens his eyes again. “She must be so…s-scared...”
“We’ve given her several medications, so she isn’t in any pain.” Louis
replies gently, head tilted to the side in earnest. “Avery is stable for
now and we are currently monitoring her and performing more lab
work to assess the severity of the situation so we can appropriately
decide on what our next move should be.”
Harry nods slowly, silent tears pooling at his eyes. This is more than
he could have ever expected walking into this hospital. During the
entirety of Harry’s last minute flight from L.A., he refused to let
himself drudge up the worst possible scenario, trying to remain
optimistic. But maybe he should have, maybe he should have carefully
mapped out all that could potentially be wrong with his daughter,
maybe it would have prepared him for this. The horrifying strain of
this situation tears through Harry’s already weak heart, ripping each
individual chamber apart cruelly.
“Um…” Louis falters slightly, glancing down for a moment. “Avery

also broke her arm—”
“What?” Harry gasps, falling pale all over again. A broken arm is
nothing compared to cancer, but Harry still can’t help but freak out
over it, as any parent would. He looks over to his fiancé in confusion,
silently wondering how this could be.
Jesse only shrugs, looking down in his lap and Louis narrows his eyes
at him pointedly.
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“It was my understanding that she was feeling lightheaded at school
and she collapsed. The fall fractured her arm.” Louis continues, still
essentially shooting daggers at Jesse with his eyes. “She’s ok now, Dr.
Payne set the fracture in a cast.”
Harry looks between them a few times, brow still pulled into a deep-
set frown as his attention settles on Jesse. “Is there something you
aren’t telling me?”
Louis keeps glaring at Jesse in silence, gaze growing fiercer by the

second. His hands are tightly clamped together on the table as his lip
seems to almost twitch in a snarl. He is daring Jesse to say something,
but Jesse avoids any and all eye contact with him, fidgeting to himself.
“Harry, I think you should know that I picked Avery up from school
today and brought her here.” Louis announces suddenly, turning his
head to face him. He looks like he wants to say more but cuts himself
short.
Harry frowns in confusion, eyebrow pulled. “You did? But…?”
“She wanted…” Jesses sighs in frustration, reluctant to speak. “Um—

she was asking for only Louis.”
Harry gazes at Louis at a loss. He didn’t have to do that. Yes, he is her

doctor and he is on her release forms, but that is going above and
beyond his responsibilities. He and Louis aren’t on the best of terms
and yet he still came through for her, and Harry couldn’t be more
thankful that he came to her aid regardless. Who knows what would
have happened if he hadn’t.
“Louis, thank you.” Harry exhales in devout gratitude, shaking his head.
“Thank you so much—you didn’t have to…I um—thank you.”
Louis nods his head in understanding, reaching over to give Harry’s

free hand a quick reassuring squeeze. They hold each other’s gaze for
a moment and Harry finds himself not wanting to look away. He does
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though—he has to, otherwise he will surely get lost in the strength
lined in Louis’ calming blue eyes and it’s not Harry’s to rely on.
“But it couldn’t have just started this afternoon right? The symptoms,
I mean? She must have been presenting some signs earlier…” Harry
turns towards Jesse again, brain working on overdrive as he tries
desperately hard to understand what happened. “Did you see anything
off about her, Jes? Did she say anything to you? She’s always so vocal
about what’s bothering her, it’s not like her to hide it...”
“I...um...I don’t…” Jesse mumbles, chancing a glance at Louis who

looks like he is physically biting his tongue to the point of drawing
blood, entire body painfully tensed with his arms crossed over his
chest.
Harry silently directs his question towards Louis, locking onto his eyes
once more. Louis knows the answer, Harry knows he does. He can see
it on Louis’ face as clear as day.
“Her symptoms would have presented prior to this afternoon, yes.”

Louis confirms, displaying a restraint Harry still doesn’t understand.
Harry looks back to his fiancé, brows furrowed into a confused frown.
He trusted Jesse to follow through with what needed to be done while
he was away, he took ample precautions and he went far beyond what
was necessary to insure it would be easy for Jesse to care for his
daughter. And Avery is far from a difficult child anyway, she’s polite
and obedient and as sweet as can be, she wouldn’t make up stories to
get out of school because she loves her second grade class, it’s almost
all she talks about. But if something is bothering Avery, she’ll say it,
and if she doesn’t right away, it’s easy to tell from her expressive face.
So why then did she need to be picked up from school in the first
place, why was she even at school at all? “Were you not watching her,
Jesse? I told you—”
“I was, babe…of course I was. I read all your notes and I did
everything you told me—and I’m here for you.” Jesse assures,
redirecting the accusatory question and instead attempting to offer
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Harry comfort. He takes both of Harry’s trembling hands, squeezing
them gently. “What do you need, Harry? What can I do for you?
Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
Maybe that should be a sweet gesture, maybe it was meant to distract

Harry from the fact that Jesse is avoiding his original question or
maybe it really was meant to be supportive. But regardless of the
intention, Harry finds no comfort in his fiancé’s words or actions
whatsoever. His mind is a whirlwind of confusion, overloaded on
more unexpected information than he can realistically handle right
now and he doesn’t know what he wants or what to ask for. Honestly,
Harry could hardly say what day it is in confidence.
And maybe Harry expects too much, or maybe he has become

accustomed to not expecting enough, but he shouldn’t have to always
spell out his needs. Not to the person who is supposed to be his other
half. He should know how to make Harry feel better, Jesse
should know how to offer him some semblance of peace in the midst
of a storm.
But he doesn’t.
Harry shakes his head at a complete loss, looking down at his still
unsteady hands folded limply into Jesse’s. The lingering tears in his
eyes start to build up again, trickling down his cheeks as his body starts
to truly register what all this means. His Avie, his little innocent baby
isn’t out of the woods. There’s yet another chance that he could lose
her and he isn’t ready to face that kind of reality right now. It doesn’t
make sense, none of this makes any sense to him at all.
she was ok…she’s supposed to be ok…
“Would you maybe like to see her? Avery?” Louis offers gently, voice
so soft and warm, Harry wants to wrap himself in it like a soothing
blanket. “I know you must be anxious to be with her. I can take you
right now, if you like.”
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Harry lifts his teary eyes, nodding slowly as he sniffles. That’s all he
needs right now, to be with his daughter again. He just needs to see
her, more than anything else.
“Ok. I’ll take you.” Louis promises, watching Harry closely as though
he’s afraid Harry might break down further at any moment. And he’s
not wrong, Harry feels like his heart is composed of hundreds of frail
fragments held together feebly by a single stitch. A stitch that’s already
on the verge of tearing at the seams.
As they begin to leave the conference room, the three of them hardly
make it out of the door before Jesse’s phone starts going off
repeatedly. He pulls it out of his pocket, reading over his new
messages.
Jesse lifts his head from his phone, turning to Harry apologetically and
the sad thing is Harry already knows what’s about to come out of his
mouth. “Babe, I hate to leave you right now but…uh it’s work—we
have a really big case—”
“Are you fucking serious?” Louis blurts uncontrollably in distaste,

once again glowering at Jesse malevolently. But he doesn’t say more,
instead taking a quick breath and walking off to the side to give them
space to talk privately. Harry has never once seen Louis react that
negatively towards anyone, he’s always so kind and thoughtful. Of
course Harry has seen Louis get annoyed, but there is actual venom
behind his tone that’s utterly uncharacteristic for him and it makes
Harry wonder what may have transpired between them.
“I’m really sorry, Harry. They need me.” Jesse apologizes, taking
Harry’s hand and giving it a squeeze that is supposedly meant to
comfort him, but he feels anything but comforted.
And what’s worse is that Harry doesn’t have it in him to fight his fiancé
on this right now, to point out that maybe he needs him too and his
needs should come first, especially at a time like this. Harry hardly has
the conviction inside himself to even be properly annoyed, he doesn’t
have the strength to beg Jesse to stay, he doesn’t have the will to
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convince him to ignore his fucking job for once and really comfort
him. He just doesn’t have the energy to care anymore, so instead he
just nods with a bowed head.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can…I promise.” Jesse insists, leaning in to

kiss Harry’s cheek.
Harry hardly so much as feels it.
||✚||
“Avie, baby.” Harry whispers gently as he rushes into the room,

immediately taking hold of her free hand, the one not bandaged up in
a yellow cast. Louis had led him up to Avery’s room, but left to give
them a bit of privacy. And just seeing her small body alone in the
hospital bed, stings Harry’s eyes and he just wants to collapse on the
cold, hard floor and cry.
“Daddy…” Avery rasps, smiling weakly. Her eyes are barely open
enough to see him, breathing heavily labored. She’s got oxygen tubes
strung from her nose, hooked behind her ears and she looks so
horribly tired, so unlike the bright eyed girl he loves. “I missed you…”
“Oh I missed you too, sweetheart. I missed you so much.” Harry

breathes out, lifting her hand to his lips. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.
God, I’m so sorry, Munchie. I came as fast as I could.”
“It’s ok...” Avery tries to squeeze his hand back, but she doesn’t have
it in her. “I’m glad…you’re here now.”
“I’m here, I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Harry
trails his palm down her cheek, cupping it to her face. His already
stinging eyes are burning now, just seeing his daughter like this, so
helpless and so scared.
“It hurts, Daddy…” Avery faintly whispers. She’s fighting tears and
Harry can’t hold his own back anymore. “It really h-hurts…”
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“I know baby, I know.” Harry coos gently, cupping the side of her
head, wishing he could take her pain away. It hurts him to see her like
this, weak and hurting, body rallying against her. It’s frustrating as a
parent to be so powerless in all this, having no control or say in the
matter—unable to provide a tangible sense of relief. All his heart can
do is repeatedly break for his child. “I’m sorry Avie, I’m so sorry.”
“Her drip must be wearing off.” Dr. Wesley notes, having overheard
Avery from just outside the door. “I was just coming in to adjust her
levels and check her vitals again.” She sets about adjusting Avery’s pain
meds accordingly, fiddling with her central line while also taking note
of her hourly vital stats.
“Daddy…can you…hold me?” Avery murmurs quietly in slow breath

once Dr. Wesley is done.
Harry looks to Dr. Wesley for approval, not wanting to disturb any of
the wires and tubes that he knows must be important, even though he
has no idea what they’re all for.
Dr. Wesley nods her head sympathetically. “That’s fine, you can hold
her—just be careful of her drip and pulse oximeter.”
Slowly, Harry climbs into the hospital bed with his daughter, carefully
pulling her light frame against his chest, paying careful attention not to
twist or cut off any of Avery’s vital connections. She curls snugly
against him and Harry has to choke back an overpowering sob as he
feels just how light she has gotten in the short time he was away. She
was once his beautiful healthy baby girl, she was bright and happy,
always bursting with seeming never-ending energy, and now she’s so
unnervingly frail and fragile. Harry holds his baby like she’s made of
the faintest glass, deathly afraid of causing her any more pain.
“Daddy…you know…how you…always…talk about…your trips

to…Europe?” Avery whispers, one word at a time against his chest.
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“Mhmm.” Harry hums gently, cheek pressed against the top of her
head.
“Well…when this is all over…can we…get away?” Avery asks and her
voice is but a rasp. “I want…I want to see…France…”
“Oh, I promise Aviebug, I promise...” Harry nods adamantly as steady

but silent tears roll down his cheeks. He rubs soothing circles against
her back, comforting her as gently as he can.
“Can you…tell me about it…again?” Avery requests, curled to her

father’s chest with her eyes closed. Avery always likes to hear about
Harry’s travels during his early twenties, she never gets tired of
listening to Harry recount the many adventures and memories of his
early adulthood.
“Yeah, of course I can.” Harry agrees, willing to do anything to soothe

and distract her, even if only for a passing moment. “Oh, you would
love it there, Munchie. France in the summer is absolutely magical. I
stayed in the southern part of the country for awhile…and it was
beautiful because the air always smelled of lavender—lavender and
love.”
Avery peeks up at him, opening her eyes. “Were you…in love?”
Harry pauses in consideration. “Not in France, no—I mean…I was in

love with the country, but not anyone in particular.”
“Do you know…what being in love…feels like?”
She’s never once asked him any of this before, and Harry has to
wonder what brought the question on. But as Avery’s always been so
curious about everything, perhaps it was really only a matter of time.
“Yes…yeah, I do…”
When Harry thinks about falling in love, it’s not the romantic nuances
of Parisian culture that he thinks of first as he once did in the past.
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Back then he wanted to see the world through the softest shades of
euphoric, perfect pink, voir la vie en rose. But Harry soon learned that
the world isn’t bathed in blush tones and soft ideals, and without rose-
colored glasses to paint his perspective, the concept of falling and
being in love no longer seemed as sweet or attainable, just a coveted,
unrealistic notion.
And in a sense, Harry left France unsatisfied because he knew from

experience that the world is such an unforgivingly cruel place, filled
with more heartbreak than adolescent dreams of rosy-hued love. But
it only took meeting a specific person to change all of that and prove
to Harry that the wonderful feeling of falling in love is so much deeper
than any of his preconceived twenty-year-old notions.
So now, when Harry thinks of the feeling of being truly in love, it’s not
a specific word he thinks of, it’s a collection of feelings that can’t be
contained by the confines of the English or even the French language.
He thinks of drunken embarrassing stories paired with ice cream and
horribly cheap wine. The overwhelming feeling of safety and
acceptance behind his favorite pair of warm blue eyes. Getting rained
on and utterly drenched for the sake of a really good conversation
under the stars, followed by blissful laughter that easily rolls on into
the early morning. The feeling of knowing life is hard and full of great
disappointments and let downs, but in his strong arms, under his
welcome gaze, the world is also perfectly pink and beautifully soft and
wondrously euphoric after all.
“Falling in love is like a dream you never want to wake up from.” Harry
whispers, exhaling a wistful, almost inherently euphoric breath as he
thinks back on the first and maybe even the only time he has ever truly
been in love with someone.
“And…that’s how…you felt about…France?” Avery wonders,

watching him curiously.
“Uh yeah…France…” Harry nods slowly, pushing aside his

unexpected newfound realization for now.
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“Say something in French, Daddy…” Avery requests, small hand over
his heart. “I think…it’s beautiful…when you say it...” Harry would
speak in French to her sometimes when she was little, especially when
she would cry. He’d whisper comforting phrases here and there and it
always soothed her somehow.
“Um...I’m very rusty but uh…” Harry pauses to think of what he

wants to say to her, and the perfect words don’t take long to come to
him. “Tant que je vis, tu as mon cœur, mon bel amour.”
“What does that mean?” She wonders quietly.
“Erm something like, as long as I live, you have my heart, my beautiful love.”
Harry whispers softly to her, pressing his lips to her temple.
Avery’s pale face warms up a bit as she smiles up at him. “Je t’aime,
papa.”
“Ooh look at you, little bug.” Harry awes in gentle surprise, kissing her
cheeks this time. “We should get you French lessons, yeah?”
“Oui.” Avery nods her head as best she can.
“Actually, I should probably take the lessons with you, otherwise you’ll
be speaking better French than me. And we can’t have that.” Harry
grins, resting his cheek back down against her head. “Then you’ll be
all set for our trip together.”
“I can’t wait to go, Daddy...” She whispers weakly, eyes falling closed
again with sudden exhaustion.
“We’ll have so much fun, Avie…” Harry promises, voice just above a
whisper as he holds her close, trying to repel the tears from springing
back to his eyes. With everything he has inside, he wants that with
Avery—to escape with her. He wishes they could just leave all this
behind and go right now, he wishes it didn’t have to be like this for his
sweet girl. “Just you and me, baby. Just you and me…”
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“You…and…me…” Avery repeats in a quiet rasp, head lulling to the
side with fatigue. She sucks in a few staggered breaths before her eyes
roll back suddenly and her whole body begins to shake violently,
spasming out in an unexpected seizure.
“Avery!” Harry shrieks at the convulsing child in his arms. His own
body goes into a state of nearly paralyzed shock, having absolutely no
idea what to do. The monitors around the room start beeping and
raging in an uproar.
“Page Dr. Tomlinson!” Dr. Wesley shouts to the nurses outside as she
rushes urgently into the room.
“Oh my god, what’s happening to h-her? She was fine—she was

talking and t-then she started…s-she started s-shaking…” Harry
stutters, tears pricking at his wide eyes as he sets Avery down gently
and slides off the bed to give Dr. Wesley space to work. She lowers
the bed, laying Avery back as flat as possible.
It feels so familiar and he hates it, he hates that he has been here
before. He hates that he has seen this before, that he knows what
happens next. This moment eerily parallels one of the worst moments
of his life, far too similar to be overlooked. His hands start to tremble,
his heart racing wildly.
“Did I?...Did I do s-something?” Harry panics, chest starting to rise

and fall rapidly. “When I h-held her—I don’t know? Is it m-my
fault…I—”
“No. No, Mr. Styles, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Dr. Wesley
assures frantically, holding Avery on her side. She looks unsure,
nervous—like she isn’t exactly sure what her next move should be.
“We need a crash cart in here!”
Within moments, a response team floods into the room, assembling

around the young doctor waiting for instruction on how to proceed,
but Dr. Wesley doesn’t make a single command.
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“Doctor, her seizures persist. How do you want to proceed?” The
nurse asks quickly, looking to Dr. Wesley.
“I…um...I…” Dr. Wesley’s eyes are wide as she looks up. Her eyes
lock with Harry and she almost looks as terrified and stunned as Harry
feels and the uncertainty in her gaze scares him even more. It’s almost
like she is giving Harry an apologetic expression, opening her mouth
to speak, but only fragments tumbling out. “I…uh I—I…”
“Doctor?” Another nurse prompts in urgency.
Harry starts shaking his head, feeling his body start to crumble with
unbearable amounts of panic. Heaving, his chest is heaving—hurling so
aggressively, he is almost swept off his unstable feet with the force of
it.
Louis must not have been very far away because like some kind of
guardian angel, he appears almost in an instant, rushing into the
stressful room. Harry nearly faints with relief at just the sight of him.
If there is anyone Harry trusts in this world, it’s Louis.
louis will fix this
His expression is serious, nothing but stern focus piercing his gaze. He
immediately looks to the intern standing along the bedside. “Wesley,
what happened?”
“I-I..I don’t know exactly—she j-just…” Wesley stammers, fish-

mouthing at a complete loss as Louis rushes to the bed.
“Move.” Louis snaps, no patience or time for her hesitant muttering.

He takes Dr. Wesley’s place, holding Avery as steady as possible on
her side. “How long has she been seizing?”
“Nearly two minutes now, Dr. Tomlinson.” A nurse answers

promptly.
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“Push phenolbarbital now.” Louis orders urgently, taking control of the
room.
he’ll fix it, he’ll fix it, he’ll fix it
“Louis, you h-have to fix her ok…you…y-you have to—please

Louis, p-please…” Harry forces the words out, hoping they somehow
form a coherent sentence. He feels the blurry rush of water angrily
running down his cheeks—when did he start crying? How long has he
been crying?
“Harry, calm down.” Louis tries, unable to divide his focus away to
look up at him. “I’ll do everything I can.”
“No change, Doctor. Seizures persist and her airway is compromised.”
“Push another dose.” Louis instructs the nurse, attempting to get a

good look at Avery’s pupils.
There are suddenly so many people in the room, so many people

focused on Avery, on saving her life. Even with all the medical staff
crowding Avery’s bed, dutifully following orders and protocols, Harry
can still see glimpses of his daughter’s tremoring body, still convulsing
so violently on her side.
Harry tries to calm himself down, but a million possibilities swarm his
mind and all of the outcomes seem to end the same way. The last time
he watched someone he loves seize, it was the last time he ever saw
her alive and now here he is again and—
“Oh my god…” Harry gasps out on unsteady legs, feeling so very

nauseous as the full weight of the situation crashes into him. His eyes
burn with the presence of more tears, hands shaking uselessly at his
side.
“Harry, you have to go.” Louis warns seriously, looking up for only a
fraction of a second to meet Harry’s frantic eyes. “You shouldn’t be
404
here—can someone please escort the patient’s father out of the
room?”
“N-No…I’m not l-leaving her—I c-can’t leave her… I can’t—” Harry

shakes his head wildly, tears coming heavier and heavier. He looks
back at Avery and her seizures seem to have ceased with the
administration of the drug Louis ordered, but from the look on the
nurse’s face, all is certainly not well.
“She’s coding, Dr. Tomlinson!”
“Start compressions and charge the paddles!” Louis instructs in

urgency as shock pads are laid down over Avery’s chest. Dr. Wesley
applies continuous compressions to her chest while Louis takes the
paddles from the cart and moves into position. “Clear!”
Maybe it’s the stress of the situation, the machines blaring emergency
warnings throughout the room incessantly, the doctors and nurses
scrambling and shouting orders in the hopes of making a difference to
his daughter’s current spiraling condition. Or maybe it’s a latent guilt
that’s been built up over so many years, regret convicting him
mercilessly, but suddenly Harry feels like an emotional dam inside him
is breaking.
“L-Louis, you h-have to…to s-save her please Louis…I’m s-sorry, I’m
so sorry for everything—for how I acted...I was selfish and I…I…”
Harry sobs hysterically. He is losing it, he can physically feel himself
losing it the longer he watches his daughter spasm and shudder, the
longer he watches the machines monitoring her vitals angrily scream
out into the tense room. Maybe if he can make Louis understand, if
Harry can somehow repent of all his transgressions against him, it will
somehow save his daughter. “Fuck—I’m sorry L-Louis… I’m s-sorry,
I’m sorry, p-please…”
“Will someone please take him out of the goddamn room!?” Louis
shouts again as he takes over compressions for Dr. Wesley. The
machines are all still going off, nothing they’re doing seeming to help
in any way.
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“Right away, Dr. Tomlinson.” A nurse nods, turning to Harry. “Sir,
I’m going to have to escort you out.” She places a hand on his forearm,
gently attempting to guide him backwards to the exit. But Harry isn’t
having it, he yanks his arm away from her, moving deeper into the
room.
“No! No!” Harry protests, swiping at his profusely crying eyes. He

doesn’t know what else he can say, what else he can do. His mind is
completely fogged, pounding along to the repetitive beep of his
daughter’s critically distressed heart. “Lou—L-Louis please…no—you
can’t l-let her d-die… you c-can’t...” He rambles through his sobs,
emotions everywhere at once. His voice only grows more desperate,
frantic to the point of not making sense. All he knows is that he doesn’t
want the last memory of his daughter to be the same as the last
memory of his sister. “Louis—fuck…I’m…I’m sorry for e-
everything—I d-didn’t mean it, I didn’t m-mean any of it…I d-didn’t
mean to…to h-hurt you—I’m s-sorry, sorry—please y-you have to s-
save her…”
“Still no sinus rhythm, Doctor.” The nurse announces, watching the

EKG readings.
“Push one Epi and let’s go again.” Louis decides, looking at the heart
rhythms on the screen as he continues to make great effort in avoiding
Harry in favor of trying to focus.
“Louis, please! I should h-have never left—I…I s-shouldn’t have—

I’m so sorry…” Harry sobs brokenly as two nurses struggle to drag his
unwilling body from the room. He continues to fight against them,
refusing to leave.
“Get him the fuck out of here!” Louis roars loudly, squeezing his eyes
shut in concentration. “I can’t think!”
“Mr. Styles, please.” One of the nurses tries again. “You can’t be in
here. It’s not helping.”
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“No! Avery!” Harry screams out in pain as all the fight leaves his body
at once and he can only break down in tearful sobs. The nurses who
were once attempting to drag him out of the room, wrap their arms
around him in support as they carefully lead him away, further and
further away from his Avie. And all the while, the same looming
question burns throughout his mind.
what if this is the very last time i ever see her alive…
||☤||
“Where are those labs!?” Louis yells out, desperately attempting to

pinpoint his thoughts. It’s too much, it’s all too fucking much. With
Avery seizing for no apparent reason and then going into cardiac arrest
and Harry crying and begging in his ear—it’s too much. Louis can
handle pressure, in fact, he is known to handle high stress situations
well, but throw Harry into the mix and suddenly Louis can hardly think
straight. “Did we ever get the results—”
“Tomlinson! I’ve got her lab work.” Niall bursts into the patient room
urgently. “We don’t have much time because—oh shit…” His voice
drops off as he registers the scene before him, whatever fearful news
he was bringing, actualized before his eyes. “Her CSF levels are way
too high. We have to alleviate the pressure.”
“Hydrocephalus…her tumor is impeding the flow from her brain—

she needs a shunt.” Louis decides, fully aware that the pressure of a
Cerebral Spinal Fluid build up could kill her if left untreated. If they
don’t move fast, she’ll only begin to seize again and again until she
completely exhausts her body to unrepairable levels. “Call the O.R.,
tell them we’re coming, prep for a spinal diversion.”
“I’ll scrub in with you to assist.” Niall offers, running alongside Louis
as they start to move the hospital bed towards the elevators.
“Dr. Tomlinson, can I come with you?” Charlie asks, following behind
them. “I’ve never seen a pediatric diversion before and—”
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“Go sit with Har—the patient’s father.” Louis orders, without turning
around.
Charlie opens her mouth to persist. “But Dr. Tomlinson—”
“Wesley, you’re my intern and I said to go out there and make sure the
patient’s father is ok.” Louis interjects sternly, briefly facing Charlie
only to look her dead in the eye. “Can you handle that?”
“Erm…y-yes, sir.” She stutters, nodding her head and moving out of
Louis and Niall’s way.
They rush Avery to surgery as fast as humanly possible, a surgical team

already assembled and prepped for her unplanned surgery. From
scrubbing in to gowning up to standing alongside the operating table
opening Avery up for the second time, Louis can’t seem to wrap his
mind around what’s happening, functioning on autopilot like a muscle
memory. And it doesn’t help that Harry’s screaming cries still puncture
his ears on a loop.
It’s not all that surprising when Louis thinks about it, Harry was in
panic mode, the only thing that makes sense to do in panic mode is to
scream. Scream and scream and scream until maybe something changes.
Louis has seen it time and time again throughout his years as a surgeon,
desperation comes rolling in and people will shout anything and
everything in hopes that their situation can change. That their loved
one can be saved by any means and at all costs.
Harry is no different. Maybe a small fraction of him is truly sorry for

leaving all those years ago, maybe a piece of him does feel a bit of
remorse about breaking Louis’ heart, but it loses its legitimacy when
the only time Harry can say it is when he is simultaneously begging
Louis to save his child’s life.
But Louis can’t think about any of that right now, not when he’s
staring down at one of the most complex tumors he’s ever seen in his
career.
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When he saw the rendition of her tumor on the scans, it was daunting,
but nothing could have prepared him for seeing it in all its horrifying
glory. It’s intelligent, woven between the blood vessels and nerves as
though it was always meant to be there. Its core is so intricately webbed
between what should be and what should not, that the lines are nearly
inseparable. A growth like this is often rightfully referred to as a
butterfly tumor because it spreads its long unpredictable wings over
both sides of the brain, digging into vital pieces of tissue in a way that
almost appears beautiful, like the masterful artistry and majesty of a
butterfly. From Louis’ vantage point, there is no way a tumor like this
could be removed surgically without severe harm or complete brain
death. No one could cut this out unscathed, for it’s lodged in the very
place that makes Avery who she is.
Louis slowly lifts his gaze from the surgical field, breaking his zone of
focus to notice Charlie standing off by the exit. He returns his gaze
back to his scope. “What is it, Wesley?”
“Um Mr. Styles—the um patient’s father, said I could go so um…”

Dr. Wesley tells him from the corner of the O.R. “May I scrub in
now?”
Louis doesn’t lift his head from his scope at all, continuing to work on
securing the potential opening into the brain for the thin catheter tube
of the shunt. “Has his fiancé come back yet?”
“Uh well no, he—”
“Then no.” Louis interrupts tersely, voice firm and unyielding.
Dr. Wesley steps a bit further into the room, not quite accepting Louis’
reply. “But Mr. Styles said that I didn’t need to stay anymore and—”
“I said no, Wesley.” Louis replies again sternly. “He witnessed

something traumatic just now and he shouldn’t be alone. So go back
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to the waiting room and give him an update. Tell him that his daughter
is stable and the surgery will last at least another hour. Then sit down
next to him, don’t leave his side and most importantly, don’t come
back into my O.R. unless I page you here. Understood?”
“Sir, but with all due respect, I’m a doctor and I’m supposed to be
learning, not being someone’s shoulder to cry on. It’s a waste of my
skills.” Charlie boldly declares and Louis is certain that she must have
lost her mind.
Louis sets his instruments down for a moment and looks away from
the surgical field to lock his fiery, unamused gaze on his intern. “Dr.
Wesley, I am your attending, how dare you disrespect my orders in my
O.R.” He utters and his voice is like ice, the entire O.R. falls deathly
silent, so quiet that if a pin were to drop, it’d sound as loud as an anvil.
“You claim to be a doctor, well here is a fucking lesson for you.”
“Louis.” Niall whispers admonishingly from across the table, urging

him to calm down. But Louis can’t calm down. He’s agitated and he’s
unnerved and it only took a small prick to set him off completely. He
is not in the mood to be sassed by an intern of all people. Not today.
“Being a surgeon—no, being a doctor, is more than just skill and

surgical technique. It’s more than cutting, or diagnosing—it’s so much
more than any of that. You’re a care provider and it’s a tremendous
privilege to be so intricately involved in the outcome of someone else’s
life. So when I ask you to go and sit with a patient’s family member,
I’m not just blowing smoke out of my ass, I’m teaching you a lesson.
That man outside in the waiting room is a parent, a worried, scared
parent. And you have no idea because you were still in fucking high
school at the time, but he’s been through far more than you can ever
imagine. And right now he is alone and terrified and all I asked you to
do is be there for him while I try to save the only person he has left in
the world. I don’t think that’s such a hard thing for you to do, do you?
I’m not training you to be a selfish doctor, Dr. Wesley. I want you to
be a doctor who cares about the wellbeing of others and always puts
them before whatever you stand to gain.” Louis says evenly, yet firmly.
He’s extremely irritated, but he still wants his student to hear him and
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above all, take his words to heart and apply them in the future. “So if
you’re too good to provide care and sit with someone in distress—
someone in need and be a goddamn shoulder to cry on, then any skills
you claim to have are an absolute waste and medicine is not for you.”
The O.R. somehow manages to fall quieter still, utterly silent aside
from the beeps and whirling machines. Charlie looks shell-shocked,
glancing at her boyfriend to defend her but Louis knows Niall
wouldn’t dare. She was completely line out of line and it’s only because
of her connection to Niall that she’d even feel comfortable enough
directly disobeying his orders so blatantly.
“What the fuck are you still doing here!” Louis bursts in complete
agitation as the intern still hasn’t moved a single inch. “Get the hell
out of my O.R. and do as I said, Wesley! Go!”
“Uh right—ok. Y-Yes, sir.” Charlie stammers, nodding her head

repeatedly.
“Fucking interns…” Louis huffs under his breath irritably once she’s
gone.
“You didn’t have to be so hard on her.” Niall says quietly after a few
silent moments have passed.
Louis gives Niall a strong look. “Niall, don’t make me say it, please.
I’m really not in the mood…”
“Say what?”
“She’s an intern. I know how you feel about her and I totally respect
that and I completely support your relationship, but not in my O.R.”
Louis states resolutely. “Within the walls of this hospital, I’m her
teacher, not her friend. She’s my intern and she has to learn regardless
of her connection to you.”
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That’s the problem with interns dating attendings, they grow some
kind of complex that makes them feel a bit more superior to their
peers. Through Niall, Charlie has made friends with quiet a few
attendings and that’s all good and fine after hours. But at the end of
the day, Charlie is still a first year intern, no matter who she goes home
to at night.
Niall nods his head, sighing a bit in understanding. “Yeah, you’re

right.”
The surgery continues on as expected, Louis and Niall work together

to place the ventriculoperitoneal shunt and relieve some of the
pressure caused by the unwelcome, impeding tumor. Placing a shunt
properly is never a lengthy procedure, it’s quite simple actually. And
under normal circumstances, that don’t involve strategically placed
gliomas, Louis has gotten it done in under 90 minutes several times in
the past. At least there have been no further complications this time
around, Louis doesn’t know if he could mentally deal with that right
now. Today has been complicated enough and he needs time to
process the severity of Avery’s inoperable tumor. Everything inside
him refuses to believe that it’s true, even though he has seen it with his
own eyes
But then, right as they are on the final steps of the procedure, Avery
starts to code out of seemingly nowhere.
“Asystole!”
“Dammit.” Louis snaps his head up at the sound of warning beeps

blaring through the O.R. He looks to the monitor on his left and
watches in horror as Avery’s pulse readings drop down to nothing with
next to no amplitude spikes. She’s flatlining.
The horrible thing about a patient’s heart readings presenting as

asystole is that it’s not a shockable heart rhythm like tachycardia or
ventricular fibrillation. No, asystole is a breed of its own in many ways,
and at many times it takes twice as much work to get the heart to even
a shockable rhythm, let alone a normal one.
412
Niall immediately starts administrating cardiopulmonary resuscitation,
palms thumping against her chest at steady compression intervals.
Louis watches the clock while monitoring her blood pressure and
oximetry readings.
“ETCO2 holding steady at 10 mm HG.” The scrub nurse reads out

Avery’s end-tidal carbon dioxide levels, which are reasonable for
asystole readings, but nowhere near normal. A normal output should
be anywhere between 35 and 45 mm HG.
“Push one of Epi.” Louis orders after two minutes of consistent CPR,
jumping right to the use of vasopressors to hopefully get some kind of
spike from the eerie flat line blaring from the EKG. “Have the paddles
ready at 200.”
The surgical team follow as instructed, pushing the drugs intravenously

and preparing to administer the first round of defibrillations once a
rhythm is hopefully achieved. Louis can’t stop staring at the monitor,
praying for something to change while also trying to keep his mind
clear and focused and calm. It’s not the time to panic, they can bring
her back, they can and they will. Or Louis desperately hopes as much,
but despite the first push of medication the readings remain asystolic.
“She’s still flatlining.” Niall notes as he looks over his shoulder, still
applying repeated pressure to her chest.
“Push more Epi.” Louis orders, her ETCO2 rises up to 14 mm HG,

but Louis is pretty sure that’s only due to the new wave of determined
compressions performed by Niall.
don’t panic, i have to stay calm…
“We have VT!” The nurse announces, noting the small shockable
rhythms finally presenting.
“Shock her now!” Louis barks straightaway, holding his own breath.
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Niall immediately stops compressions, holding his hands up and away
from the table before the lead scrub nurse administers the first
defibrillation. “Clear!”
Louis’ eyes are trained to the monitor, waiting to see the shallow
tachycardiac peaks stabilize, but it doesn’t happen—nothing happens
and Louis is starting to feel that awfully familiar panic rising up
mercilessly in his throat.
stay calm, stay calm, stay calm
He takes in one long breath to compose himself, eyes fluttering closed

for a single moment, trying to hold whatever shreds of equanimity he
has left together. And when Louis opens his eyes again, he regains a
semblance of focus, but for who knows how long. “Let’s go again.”
The surgical team goes through the motions of another round of life
support, giving Avery all they’ve got. A nurse switches out with Niall
to continue her compressions, giving him a break as he’d already been
going tirelessly for the last five minutes. The voltage is raised to 300
and the shock is delivered properly to her system, but still nothing
changes, nothing but the turning of the clock, ticking and ticking
and ticking. The longer she stays down, the longer it takes to restart her
heart, the worse off she’ll be in recovery, if she can recover at all.
“Again!” Louis says, frustration clearly evident in his voice. He’s not
giving up on her, that’s one thing he will never, ever do. “Push
Adenosine this time.”
“Doctor?”
“Just do it!” Louis demands, absolutely refusing to give up and refusing

to let this be the end of anything for the little girl on the table. A little
girl who deserves far more out of life than this. He takes over
compressions for the scrub nurse, locking his palms over each other
and pumping Avery’s chest like his whole life depends on it—because
it does, it completely does. “Charge to 360.”
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“How long has she been down?” Niall asks, looking at the monitor
anxiously. Even with a mask over the majority of his face, there’s so
much worry clearly morphing the entirety of his features. And if Niall
looks like that, Louis can only imagine what his own expression must
look like.
“Eleven minutes, Doctor.”
it’s not too late, she can still pull out of this…
“Ok, let’s push more Adenosine and charge again.” Louis says as
continues to pump her heart manually. It’s only recommended to use
Adenosine twice when resuscitating pediatric patients and Louis hopes
with everything inside him that this last push will be enough to finally
stabilize her.
“Dr. Tomlinson, but—”
“I said charge the damn paddles again.” Louis demands, teeth gritted
together as whatever calm he had inside him dissipates to the wind.
There’s so many risks when it comes to resuscitating a patient,
especially a pediatric patient, during surgery no less. Aside from getting
her heart to start up again properly, there’s also the concern for her
oxygen and blood levels dropping too low, potentially leading to
hypoxia or hypovolemia. Even though oxygen is being continuously
pumped into her body, along with a fresh blood supply, there’s no
guarantee that enough of it is properly reaching her brain and vital
organs.
“Charge it.” Niall agrees, nodding his head.
The team follows through with Louis’ orders, delivering another high-
voltage shock to Avery’s chest, leaving every eye glued to the screens.
“Come on Avery, come on, love…” Louis whispers longingly, staring

at the monitor with baited breath. “Please Aves…”
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“Dr. Tomlinson, how would you like to proceed?”
“Give her a second…” Louis mumbles hopefully, heart pounding in

his ears nearly louder than the blaring of the machines all around him.
He stares at the screen as though he can spike the shallow dips and
restore systolic and diastolic pressure with only his gaze, as though by
the sheer force of his anticipative stare he can will the rhythm of her
heart back to normal.
“Avery…”
||✚||
“Charlie!” Harry calls, leaping from the waiting room chair when he
spots her. He is so on edge, hardly able to keep himself still. He and
Dr. Wesley are now on a first name basis, considering they spent the
better part of the evening together. Harry thinks she’s sweet and he’s
glad to have someone around to distract him from what he knows is
happening somewhere in this hospital. Charlie had gone to get an
update for him, offering before Harry even had to ask. “How is it
going? Is he still operating on her?”
“He’s out of surgery now.” Charlie answers, not offering much

information while avoiding direct eye contact, which isn’t normal for
her since just ten minutes ago they were talking frankly and openly
which each other.
“How did it go? Is she—is Avery ok?” Harry asks with caution,
speaking at a limited volume. He wants to know the answer, but at the
same time he isn’t completely sure that he is ready for the answer.
Charlie bites her lip nervously, hands stuffed in her lab coat. “Harry, I
think we should…uh…wait for Dr. Tomlinson…” She nods her head
and seems to think of anything else she can offer. “But…let me take
you to a private room where we can wait for him.”
416
That’s not a good sign. Harry knows from experience that her
calculated answer is definitely not a good sign, but he also knows that
he can’t allow himself to think negatively.
gemma died just like this…
No. He can’t allow his mind to go there. Not yet. Not when he doesn’t
know anything yet. This isn’t the same situation—this is different. It’s
different. Harry knows that it has to be different.
what if it’s not different?
Avery is a fighter, a survivor. She will come out of this, she will pull
through this. She did it before and she can do it again. She will, she
will, she will.
she might not…
Harry follows behind Charlie blindly, mind hardly paying any attention
to the steps he is taking through the many winding hallways and before
he knows it, he’s standing in an empty hospital room.
“I’m sorry, the conference rooms are all in use at the moment, but
please make yourself comfortable in here.” Charlie gestures to the lone
chair along the white wall. “Is there anything I can get for you while
you wait? Water? Coffee? I know you’re probably sick of the coffee
here by now.”
“Erm…no…” Harry shakes his head slowly in a daze. She is right

though, he is sick of it—5 cups and 3 hours later. “Um…but thank
you, Charlie.” He offers a marginal smile, hoping it doesn’t look like a
grimace.
“Of course.” She smiles warmly at him, but there is also a hint of pity
in her eyes as she gives him a light pat on the shoulder. “I’m going to
go find Dr. Tomlinson for you. I’ll be right back, ok?”
417
Harry nods weakly as he settles into the surprisingly comfortable chair.
He doesn’t fully rest in it, instead choosing to perch on the edge. The
energy running rampant through his body causes him to fidget and
squirm, boots clicking anxiously on the cold linoleum floor. Harry isn’t
sure how much time is actually passing, but it feels like a lifetime. As
though he is rapidly aging by the very second. He tries to distract
himself, desperately trying to think of something else—anything else.
But each and every time his mind betrays him and he once again
conjures up the disturbing and discouraging image of his daughter
lying on a stripped down bed, body cold and without breath.
Harry starts counting the number of tiles on the linoleum floor, getting
to number 56 when the door handle jiggles.
“Louis!” Harry jumps up from his seated position as soon as he sees

him appear in the doorway, accompanied by Charlie. He must have
rushed right over because, he is still draped in an untied surgical gown
with his scrub cap fastened to his head.
Without another word, Harry practically flies over to Louis. And even
though he knows it’s not completely appropriate, he wraps his arms
around Louis in a desperate embrace. He just wants to be held, he
needs to be held. Jesse still hasn’t shown up, even though Harry has
filled his entire voicemail box and sent text after text. He just feels so
alone in all this.
Despite everything remaining so unresolved between them, Louis

holds Harry tightly, arms wound around his entire back. And it doesn’t
take more than mere seconds for Harry to start trembling in his strong
arms, sagging his weight against Louis weakly.
“Can you give us the room?” Louis asks the intern gently over Harry’s
shoulder, having still not let go of him.
Charlie nods, swiftly exiting the room and shutting the door behind
her, leaving Louis and Harry all alone wrapped up in each other’s arms.
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“Harry, I need to talk to you.” Louis whispers seriously against Harry’s
neck, slowly pulling back from their tight embrace.
Harry is reluctant to pull back, not wanting to face any sort of reality
yet. He doesn’t want to meet Louis’ eyes because he doesn’t know
what might be portrayed in them. Will they scream sorrow? Will they
weep apology? Will they cry out in pain? Will they depict hopelessness
or hope? Harry doesn’t think he can handle knowing. “H-how is she?
Is s-she ok?”
“Harry, how about you sit down first?” Louis tries, speaking gently.
“No, just tell me, Louis.” Harry pulls back and finally gazes daringly
into Louis’ eyes, utilizing all the bravery he has left in him. “Tell me.”
Louis’ tone is calm, always even and steady, but it’s what lies beneath
Louis’ eyes that startles Harry. His suspicions confirming reality. That
unsettling eeriness, that underlying sadness laced with unresolved
distress. It’s there. It’s all there.
Harry gradually begins to shake his head, pulling back even more from
Louis’ arms as he tugs his lower lip through his teeth.
“The seizure Avery suffered from was due to a build up of cerebral

spinal fluid caused by a block from her growing tumor.” Louis says
slowly and Harry can tell he doesn’t want to say any more, he doesn’t
want to continue and every word out of his mouth is being shoved out
by sheer force. “In surgery I placed a shunt to drain the excess fluid
from her brain down to her stomach, but the pressure had gotten so
high from the block that her heart stopped and her brain wasn’t getting
enough oxygen…and it took several minutes before we could restart
it and bring her back…”
Harry is hanging off of Louis’ every word, searching the calming blue
of his eyes.
419
“She’s stable for now, but…” Louis continues despondently, features
downcast and heavy. “She’s unconscious and unresponsive.”
Harry can’t move let alone think of any sort of tangible response. His
brain might as well equate to a blank slate. He feels trapped within the
confines of his own body. It’s a familiar place, but also a scary place.
“The brain sometimes takes longer to readjust after complications like

this and I’m hoping that if we give her time, the shunt will relieve the
rest of the pressure from the CSF build up and she’ll wake up but...”
Louis’ eyes meet Harry’s dead on, holding his broken gaze, and Harry
is hanging off his very breath. “There is still a high chance she won’t.
It’s too soon to know if there will be deficits, but…um…even if she
does wake up, the tumor in her brain is um…well it’s in a place that
can’t realistically be removed surgically...”
“No…” Harry abruptly sucks in a staggering breath with all the

severity and painful shock of being brutally stabbed, eyes widening in
pure horror and incredulity.
“Harry—”
“She’s s-she’s gonna die. She’s gonna die…like Gem—like G-

Gemma…” Harry inhales frantically like the wind is being repeatedly
knocked out of him by force, blow after blow, mouth dangling open
in shock. His legs suddenly hold all the stability of limp noodles and
his whole body is begging to melt into a useless puddle on the hard
floor. He can’t support his own weight and his knees are ready to
buckle beneath him.
this can’t be real
“Harry, listen to me.” Louis grasps onto him, gripping his shoulders
tightly as he tries to get through to his rapidly fogging mind. “I promise
I’ll do everything I can to bring her back to you.” Louis pledges, arms
practically the only force holding Harry’s withering frame upright. “I
420
promise you. I’ll figure out a way to treat her. We’re going to fight this.
I promise.”
it’s not real, it can’t be
The panic rises and rises and rises, consuming Harry’s entire essence in
one swift sweep, attacking his psyche, manifesting itself in brutal
domination over his body. “No... I n-need her. I need h-her! I need
her! No!” He repeats incessantly, as those are the only words replaying
through his mind, like a loop with no determinable end. Hot tears sting
at his eyes, burning their way down his flushed cheeks. His chest
heaves wildly, far surpassing anything in a normal scope, while his
throat feels like it’s so tightly constricted that he can’t possibly breathe,
just sucking in gulps of strained air as his head whips wildly to and fro.
“I need h-her… I n-need…I—”
“Ok, ok…just breathe, just breathe. Look at me Harry, you have to

breathe.” Louis presses down on Harry’s wrists, trying to ground him
in some way, but Harry hardly even feels it. “Breathe for me, H.
Please.”
“Why?!” Harry screams angrily, a fresh wave of tears streaming from

his bloodshot eyes. “Why?! Why c-can’t it be me? Why—why can’t it
be m-me instead…she’s just a c-child…a baby…she’s m-my baby! Why
can’t it be me?!” He starts thrashing around in Louis’ hold, crying and
screaming hysterically. “No! No!”
“Harry, look at me, look at me, please. I need you to breathe, ok?
Breathe Harry, breathe.” Louis tries to hold him steady, but Harry is
bigger than him, easily squirming free of his hold. “Breathe in and out,
ok?”
breathe in...
Harry’s red eyes are darting wildly about the hospital room, not having
the ability to focus on anything as his chest continues to rise and fall
without accord. His entire body is shaking pugnaciously in sheer dread,
and he is somehow powerless to stop it. He feels his own voice
421
screaming out in pain, shrieking and wailing in agony, but like an out
of body experience, Harry can only let it happen. All control lost.
Surrendered.
...breathe out
Louis moves his hands to cradle the sides of Harry’s head, trying so
desperately hard to calm him down. And, god he looks so worried,
so, so worried, like in this moment Louis would do absolutely anything
to soothe Harry. Anything at all. Even for only a second of relief, he
would give the very air right out of his own lungs. Harry knows Louis
would do it, he can feel it pouring out of his steady gaze.
“Look at me please, H. Please.” Louis begs, head tilted with worry. “I

know it hurts, I know—but please Harry, you have to breathe.”
Harry can feel his chest constricting painfully; practically choking him.
It feels tighter and tighter, panic grappling to his very core, astringing
all the willpower he has left. His system is drifting further and further
from his control.
“Focus on me.” Louis holds the sides of Harry’s head tightly forcing
him to meet his eyes, fingers twisted in his short curls. He moves to
lift one of Harry’s trembling hands to rest flat against his chest, holding
his hand over Harry’s over his heart.
Harry tries so impossibly hard to focus his attention on Louis’ eyes,

the ever bright blue and calming strength of Louis’ eyes, but his lungs
are rapidly hyperventilating, hardly getting anywhere near enough
oxygen to sustain him. He feels so faint, breathing
hurts, everything hurts. His body grows weaker with shock, the
prolonged devitalized state of his entire system overpowering him
tenfold. His desiccated chest cavity lurches erratically, while his heart
can only continue to ache in distress.
breathe in...
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“With me, ok? Breathe with me. Feel my chest and just try to match
it. Try as hard as you can, ok?” Louis presses his forehead against
Harry’s as he inhales an exaggerated breath along with him, still
holding Harry’s hand flat against his body. “Yeah, just like that. That’s
good, love that’s good. Deep breaths, keep breathing…”
Harry closes his eyes, pushing out more tears as his head rests against
Louis’. He concentrates on the feel of Louis’ hand gently holding his
temple, the sound of his soothing voice telling him to breathe, the
repeated thump of his heart beneath Harry’s palm. He focuses on
Louis like a ship looking to a lighthouse to guide it home. Slowly, with
pain etched in each and every attempt, Harry begins to take in tortured
gasps of breath. His whole body is still trembling harshly and with
every breath he tries to take into his lungs, his body protests. Harry
slumps down a bit more, weakly surrendering into Louis’ safeguarding
embrace.
...breathe out
Louis pulls Harry gently onto the empty hospital bed, scooting their
entwined bodies backwards until he is positioned against the
headboard. “It’s ok, you’re ok, H. Keep breathing, just keep breathing
for me.” Louis comforts softly, holding Harry’s head, stroking his hair
soothingly as he rocks him gently back and forth. “You’re ok, love.”
breathe in...
Harry starts to reel in his sputtering breaths as he so desperately tries

to sync them with Louis’. With his head tucked snuggly against Louis’
chest, eyes squeezed shut, hands fisted in the material of his scrubs,
Harry listens to the thumping and pounding of his heartbeat, feeling
his lungs expand and depress rhythmically.
…breathe out
That’s all he can do really. All Harry can do in this shattered fragment
of tormented time is keep breathing, just keep breathing. With new
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waves of tears pouring from his eyes mercilessly and unforgiving
notions of reality threatening his sanity, all he can do is keep breathing.
In and out, one single stolen breath at a time.
keep breathing, keep breathing, keep breathing.
Until everything else fades away…
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CHAPTER 9
haphazardly stitched back together.
||☤||
After several long hours, Harry’s tears have ceased and the little breath
he has left comes a little easier, exhaled quietly against Louis’
chest. Exhaustion has completely overtaken Harry’s weathered body
and he has finally tired himself out enough to be soundly pulled to
sleep. He’s curled so tightly to Louis’ body, as though he can’t begin
to function without him, fingers holding on for dear life even in his
sleep. And all through the night Louis held him unwaveringly, keeping
him calm, keeping him breathing.
Through a different lens, Louis has pictured this before in his mind so
many countless times. Being helplessly tangled up with Harry again,
content in just holding each other. And under any other circumstance,
Louis would be overjoyed to have Harry back in his arms again, but
this is not how he envisioned it would be.
Last night was emotional—painfully emotional. From the moment

Louis forced words out of his mouth that he knew Harry couldn’t
handle, having to tell him an unimaginable truth that Louis had hardly
even processed himself. And then to watch Harry completely lose
himself, drowned in a sea of inescapable panic, screaming and crying
inconsolably—it hurt so much, more than Louis ever thought possible.
He’s been working so hard to accept the distance that must remain
between them, reminding himself as many times as it takes that he’s
over Harry, that perhaps they were always meant to remain beautifully
unfinished.
Yet, regardless of what Louis told his mind, his heart felt far differently
and he was near tears and on the verge of a mighty breakdown the
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entire time Harry trembled in his arms, just willing himself to be strong
for Harry’s sake. Pleading against his own sanity to somehow keep it
together, while repeating the same two words in his head.
Even as the worst began to pass away and he rocked Harry’s exhausted
body to sleep in his arms, Louis had to keep reminding himself not to
break loose, not to crack. Harry needed strength, he needed steadfast
comfort. So that’s what Louis was for him. He didn’t break down and
he didn’t succumb to the overwhelming emotion plaguing his heart,
threatening to rip him apart from the inside.
And now, as the storm has momentarily ceased, Louis can’t sleep. He
can’t get his mind to shut up and rest, still uncomfortably on edge. He
runs his gentle fingers through Harry’s hair as he continues to go
through every single thing in that surgery, replaying it repeatedly on a
loop in his head. He mentally goes over the haunting scans, overlaying
them with what he vividly remembers about the tumor, trying to figure
out how he can somehow find a way to overcome this.
The tumor is completely inoperable, that much is undeniable. Seeing

the scans is one thing, giving Louis leeway to be optimistic, but then
seeing it right before his eyes in truth and spirit, witnessing the greedy
tendrils of cancer claim her body in such a malicious way, he can’t deny
it. There is no realistic way he can excise the tumor from her brain
without either killing her or causing such drastic deficits, she would no
longer possess what makes her human. What makes her Avery.
But even still, Louis’ brain whirls, drawing up every possibility, every
angle, every method he can possibly think of. Going through each
hypothetical procedure, every calculated method, and every precise cut
in his mind, desperately trying to figure out something—absolutely
anything and everything that could save her.
Louis gazes down at Harry fast asleep in his arms, sweet and loving
Harry. Things are far from perfect between them to say the least, but
Louis would never wish this on him. As much as Louis wants to claim
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that he’s over Harry, he can’t deny that he still cares deeply for the man
in his arms in a way that completely unnerves him at times. And despite
the animosity and blind confusion towards their situation, seeing Harry
in pain is worse than all of that combined. Seeing him so distraught,
teetering near his breaking point was almost too much for Louis to
reasonably bear and god only knows how Louis was able to keep
himself together as he powerlessly bore witness to it.
Harry has been through so much in his life already, surviving punch
after punch that has cruelly been thrown at him despite the uneven
odds stacked up against him. Louis remembers how much Gemma
meant to Harry, what losing her did to him all those years ago. And
Louis also knows exactly how much Avery means to Harry now, it’s
all over his face when he even so much as speaks her name. His whole
life is lovingly devoted to her, vowing to protect and cherish his
daughter at whatever cost. How can he possibly survive this? How
could Harry ever begin to survive life without Avery?
there has to be something i can do…
Jesse suddenly walks into the still room, eyes immediately falling to
Harry’s curled up body suctioned to Louis’ side. Louis meets Jesse’s
eyes as they stare each other down in silence, tension so thick, it could
make the paint on the hospital walls peel off entirely. Jesse’s jaw
clenches, body language seething, as he takes in Louis and Harry’s
combined limbs, twisted and tangled together in discernible
desperation.
Louis couldn’t give less of a fuck about Jesse’s feelings. There’s no

excuse under the sun good enough to explain why he couldn’t have
been here or at least called Harry. It should be him right now in Louis’
place, holding Harry, rubbing his back, whispering in his ear, soothing
him and telling him everything is going to be ok. But it’s not. Instead
his fiancé was alone, going through absolute hell all night long with no
one but his daughter’s doctor to comfort him. And this guy has the
nerve to come waltzing in with an attitude, looking perfectly well
rested. No, fuck him.
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“He’s asleep.” Louis finally whispers, glaring at Jesse vengefully with a
protective hand holding Harry against his chest. He looks down at
Harry for a moment, watching the small breaths leave his evanescently
tranquil face as he cards his fingers through the short hairs at the base
of his neck softly. “He’s had a really hard night. If you were here, you’d
know that…”
Jesse scoffs dismissively, fists balled up at his sides in growing

irritation. “I had urgent matters to attend to.”
“Oh, I’m sure you did. I’m sure there are a million things more
important than being with your fiancé as his daughter goes through
potentially fatal surgery. Of fucking course.” Louis nods flatly, eyes
narrowed. He knows he is being brash, he knows he has repeatedly
exemplified unprofessional behavior in the past 24 hours, but he
couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. “Just let him rest, he’s gone
through hell—”
“He’ll want to see me.” Jesse asserts boldly, taking a few steps closer
and reaching out to Harry.
“Don’t. Touch. Him.” Louis grits through his teeth venomously,

trying not to tousle Harry awake, curled up in a little ball against Louis.
He feels incredibly protective over Harry right now. It took hours
upon hours for him to finally calm down and fall asleep, his body
shook and trembled all through the night. And now Harry looks so at
peace, and Louis knows it’s temporary, it’s fleeting. But right now,
Louis would fight to prolong the moment, prolong the peace. Because
the moment Harry opens his eyes, the weight and the burden of all he
has to face will crush him once again.
“He’s my fiancé, he will want to see me. I don’t need your fucking
permission.” Jesse bites back.
Louis glares malevolently at Jesse, barely resisting the urge to jump up

and strangle him as he walks over to the bed. Jesse reaches over to
prod Harry’s resting form away from Louis, turning him over in his
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sleep to face him. Jesse kneels down in front of him and brushes the
fallen hair from covering his face.
“Jesse?” Harry blinks groggily in a disoriented daze.
“Hi babe, I’m here.” Jesse whispers, caressing the side of Harry’s face.
“Jes…” For a moment Harry’s soft sleepy face looks relieved and
thankfully reassured, a slight upturn of lips and the ghost of a dimple
gracing his cheeks. But then, like summoning a dark and mighty storm,
his features turn cloudy, shadows and flashes of remembrance raining
down on him like strikes of lightning. Harry bolts up suddenly, sucking
in a sharp intake of breath, deep indent carved into his brow. “Where
were you?”
“Harry, I’m right here.” Jesse consoles gently, arms reaching to wrap
around his waist as he apparently expects Harry to just melt into his
embrace. But Harry is not having any of it.
“No, no, Jesse!” Harry twists out of his fiancé’s arms, recoiling from
his touch as he weakly stands to his feet. “Where were you?! I called
you and called you and called you! I needed you! Avery—” He gasps,
fingers dragging harshly against his scalp as he looks up at the ceiling,
fighting back another wave of tears. Louis can visibly see him rapidly
reliving the events of last night in an instant, scene after scene, moment
after moment, the pain and hopelessness washing over his spirit all
over again. “She was s-seizing and s-she…she—” Harry shakes his
head, hands over his face as he starts to break down again.
“I’m sorry.” Jesse rushes out apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I

wanted to be here—”
“You wanted to be here! What the fuck does that mean, Jesse?!” Harry
shouts, water pooling heavily at his eyes. “I needed you here! I actually
needed you and you left me completely alone! I went through the worst
night of my life and you weren’t here for me!”
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Louis feels like he’s intruding, like his presence is not needed during
this argument, but he can’t seem to move. Held captive on the hospital
bed, averting his eyes. It’s none of his business, really it isn’t. But at
the same time, it feels like everything involving Harry is his business.
Louis has such an overpowering urge to protect him. He doesn’t
deserve this shit, not from anyone and especially not from the man
who is supposed to love him.
“I’m here now.”
“No! You couldn’t be bothered to at least call me back? Send a text? I

was worried sick about you. I thought that something happened to you
and—and it was just a lot with Avery and you gone and…I…” Harry’s
breathing is picking up again, verging on the familiar levels of panic he
reached only hours ago. “I s-shouldn’t have to worry about you too!”
“Oh babe, I’m sorry.” Jesse repeats uselessly, trying to wrap his arms
around Harry again. “I’m sorry.”
Harry steps away from his embrace harshly, brushing Jesse off angrily,
jaw tense. “No, stop. I don’t want to hear it anymore—I don’t have
time for this. I have to go see my daughter.” He leans his body towards
Louis, still perched on the hospital bed. “Louis, can I see her now?”
Louis blinks back to life, sliding off the bed and collecting his
disregarded scrub cap and surgical gown from last night. “Um…yeah.
Yes—I can take you to her. Of course. Erm…follow me.”
Louis starts to walk out of the room as Harry anxiously follows behind
him, and the entire time Jesse eyes him with piercing daggers. Louis
wants so badly to flip him off and tell him to go fuck himself, but that
would once again be exceedingly unprofessional and Louis has done
more than enough unprofessional things recently. For now, it’ll have
to wait as he focuses what’s left of his depleted energy into being there
for Harry as best he can.
||✚||
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“I’ll just give you some space.” Louis says gently, looking up at Harry
as they stand outside of Avery’s room in the ICU. “If you need
anything, I’ll be on the floor, just ask the nurses to page me.”
Harry stands frozen near the doorway, eyes locked ahead of him. He
can’t stop staring. If he thought she looked frail and fragile before,
now she appears to be made of the feeblest glass. She looks so
impossibly small in the huge hospital bed. Tubes and wires coming out
of everywhere, machines whirling and beeping in low portentous tones
around the room. All just trying to keep her alive.
It’s so strange because her still face is so peaceful, as though she’s only
sleeping. And Harry has the urge to try and wake her up as he has on
so many mornings. Press little kisses to her cheeks and rub her back
until she sleepily stirs awake and smiles up at him. But he knows that
won’t happen, Harry knows that nothing he can do will wake her this
time and his heart just shatters.
“Oh, Avie…” Harry gasps, already choked up. Just the simple sight of
her in this tragic state, sparks fresh tears to his eyes as he slowly
approaches the bed. “My sweet baby girl...”
Harry runs his palm gently over her motionless face, cupping her cheek
as he sits down in the chair near her bed. He can’t take his eyes off of
her, he never wants to take his eyes off of her. He wants to be here
with her forever, to have her in his life forever.
but she is fading away…
Her beautiful eyes are closed, hiding away the warm hazel of her
usually bright irises. And it’s absolutely terrifying to see her body held
so still, hardly moving at all except for the steady rise and fall over her
tiny chest. It hurts to see her like this, so helpless and lacking in life.
Avery is so lively and energetic, the charisma she holds could shed light
on any dark place and to see her held prisoner by her own body, cuts
Harry in the deepest corners of his broken heart.
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“She knew I needed you…” Harry whispers softly, stroking Avery’s
cheek tenderly as he gazes down at her. “Your mum—Gemma…she
knew how much I’d need you when she was gone…” He pauses as he
thinks of his dear sister for a moment, a ghastly ache ruminating
behind his ribs. “Oh, she would have been such an amazing mother.
She…she would have done everything right and given you everything
you could have ever wanted...”
Harry swipes at his eyes, shaking his head faintly, trying to get his silent
tears under control, but continually failing as they only flow harder.
“I’m sorry that you got stuck with me. I know I wasn’t the best father
to you in the beginning…and I—”
He pauses his words again, closing his eyes as he thinks back to the
very beginning. To the very start of his unexpected relationship with
his daughter. Harry’s heart quickly becomes heavier still, weighing him
down from deep within. He tugs his lip through his teeth as the
emotion cracks through him.
“God, I’m so s-sorry, Avery...” Harry completely breaks down, quiet

tears morphing into heavy sobs. “I’m sorry for e-every time I failed
you as a parent—for everything I did wrong…I’ve been selfish…so s-
selfish and stupid.” He cries, holding his head in his hands. “I know
that…I k-know.”
“I…I took things away from you j-just because I couldn’t deal with
them…b-because I wasn’t strong enough. I told myself t-that…that I
was protecting y-you, but really I’ve only been protecting myself. And
that wasn’t f-fair to you...it wasn’t, it w-wasn’t. You deserved so much
m-more. You d-deserve to know about your mother and…a-and you
deserve to be surrounded by people who l-love you.”
The unescapable presence of guilt fills his chest heavier than bricks of
cement; all he can feel is the tremendous weight of his misguided
mistakes piled up against him. He hasn’t been the father his daughter
needed because he wouldn’t allow himself to be vulnerable, he
couldn’t handle the pain of exposing his scars, instead pretending they
never existed.
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“I’m sorry f-for—” Harry lets his next words get caught in the back of
his throat, feeling bile rising up just thinking about how wrong he was.
“I’m s-sorry for ever saying…for—for saying that…that y-
you…weren’t m-mine…” He gets choked up with his sobs, hardly able
to speak anymore. “That I…I d-didn’t want y-you…”
“But b-baby girl…you’re my everything, you’re my baby.” Harry cries

uncontrollably, face splitting with suppressed emotion, shattered in
every possible way. He thinks back on every single time he ever denied
those words. Every time he was immature and selfish, boldly claiming
he wasn’t really a father, that he didn’t have a child. He can’t believe
he was ever so stupid. It doesn’t matter if he isn’t Avery’s biological
father, he is her father. She is his child in every way. “You are…you’re
mine…you’re m-mine…I love you…you’ve always been my b-baby.”
“Aviebug, I’m trying…I’m really t-trying now and I’ll try harder…I’ll
try so much harder…I’ll do anything for you. I love you so much…I
l-love you, Avery. Please don’t leave me. Come b-back to me,
sweetheart. Please…” Harry begs hysterically through his wretched
sobs. “You’re a-all I have…stay with me, baby. Please. I don’t k-know
what I would do without y-you—you have to c-come back to m-me,
Avie. I n-need you, I need you so m-much…”
He truly doesn’t know what he would do without her, he doesn’t want

to know who he would be without her. And he never wants the chance
to find out. She is everything and more to him.
“I promise it’ll be better. I promise I’ll be better. I promise. I p-

promise.” Harry repeats earnestly, squeezing her limp hand in his as
he closes his eyes. “Just—please…I’m n-not ready to let you g-go…”
“You’re the best thing to happen to me, Munchie. Don’t leave…”

Harry rests his head against the side of the hospital bed, still holding
onto her warm hand for dear life as the tears ceaselessly stream from
his eyes. “Please don’t leave me too…please…”
||☤||
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“Tomlinson!”
Louis jumps, instantly startled by The Chief’s booming voice, roaring

down the hall. He turns around slowly, sensing that he should steel
himself for the worst. “Yes, Chief?”
“A word please.” Chief Aoki demands through his clenched jaw, the
‘please’ apparently just thrown in as a courtesy, not at all bothering to
phrase his proposal as a question. “My office. Now.”
“Um…yes. Yes, sir.” Louis nods submissively, following Steve to his

office.
As soon as the door closes, sealing them into the silent office, Steve
goes off. “What the hell is wrong with you!? Attacking a patient’s
family member? Screaming and shouting profanities in the waiting
area? In my hospital!? I should have your ass suspended like yesterday!”
“Steve—Chief Aoki,” Louis corrects, bowing his head in remorse. “I

admit that how I acted was utterly unprofessional, but—”
“But nothing! You were completely out of line! I can’t believe we are
even having this conversation, it’s not like you, Louis. I’ve never
known you to act out in such an unprofessional and undignified
manner.” Steve paces the floor of his office disgruntledly. “You’re the
goddamn Head of Neurosurgery for god’s sake!”
Louis nods repentantly, head hung. He can’t argue that his actions
were out of line, but he is not apologetic. Jesse and his bitch ass lies
deserved every bit of it and more. That motherfucker can burn and
Louis would personally fuel the fire. As for how he handled the severe
urgency of his oscillating feelings, Louis doesn’t know exactly what
came over him. Well he does, obviously. The importance of Harry and
Avery’s wellbeing.
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“Ever since you took on that pediatric glioma case, you’ve been an
absolute mess. I mean frankly you are acting as though you are related
to the patient. What is going on with you?”
“I just—I care about her, sir.” Louis answers honestly, expression

earnest. “I care about all my patients.”
“I know you care, Louis. You have a big heart. It’s what makes you
such an astounding physician.” Steve admits seriously, meeting Louis’
eyes. “But that same passionate approach can get you into trouble.
Yelling in a common area where people are trying to heal and grieve is
not acceptable. Screaming at a patient’s family is not tolerable
behavior. It’s grounds for probation. Your emotions are out of
control. And your colleagues have also voiced their concerns.” He
reveals solemnly, still pacing about the office. “You are just too
attached to this patient, Tomlinson. I have no choice but to take you
off the case.”
“No Steve, please!” Louis protests instantly, taking a step forward.

“You don’t understand—I need to be on this case and I—”
“Louis, as Chief of Surgery, I cannot stand for this.” Steve declares

firmly. “It’s too many red flags to ignore.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Louis sighs in apology, running his
fingers through his fringe. “It was extremely uncalled for and it won’t
happen again—I swear it. Just please don’t take me off, I’m going to
figure out a way to treat her. I really need to be on this case, Steve.”
“Jones can replace you.” Steve adds in finality, not willing to budge.
“Jones?!” Louis bursts out in utter offense and blatant disapproval,

unable to bite his tongue. “With all due respect sir, this
is my department and frankly Dr. Jones is an old dinosaur who needs
to fucking retire!”
“Louis!” Steve hisses, eyes widening.

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Louis probably shouldn’t have been that frank in retrospect, especially
considering the dicey situation he is already in but, goddammit it’s the
truth. Dr. Jones utilizes surgical methods that are hardly even in
practice anymore, and he refuses to catch up to the times and he also
refuses to retire his scalpel. It goes without saying that Louis is not the
man’s biggest fan. Especially since out of all the neurosurgeons and
fellows under Louis’ department, Dr. Jones is responsible for the
highest number of fatalities per year. But the sheer impact of seniority
he has over the hospital has somehow kept him on rotation, much to
Louis’ exasperation.
“I’m sorry, but the complexity of my patient’s condition is far beyond

Dr. Jones’ scope of practice and preferred skill level. If Dr. Jones wants
to continue to practice medicine like it’s fucking 1985 that’s fine, but
with routine procedures only.” Louis argues, unable to just let this
stand. “This case is highly risky and incredibly intricate and requires
innovation and a level of modernization that Dr. Jones refuses to
possess. This little girl deserves the very best and I’m the best. You
know I’m the best, Steve.”
Steve narrows his eyes at Louis in consideration and Louis can tell how
conflicted he is. “Well, it’s my understanding that the tumor your
patient suffers from is inoperable.”
Louis nods his head slowly in concession. “Yes, but—”
“If that is indeed the case, then there is nothing even you can do,
Louis. You have to learn to accept what you can’t control.”
Louis stares despondently at the ground, not offering any answer.

There is no way he can abandon this case—he refuses. He doesn’t
have a plan right now, but with time he’ll figure something out. He
never gives up on any of his patients and he sure as hell is not going
to start with Avery.
“I think you just need to take a step back, remove yourself a bit.” Steve
advises, placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder. He sighs a bit before
continuing. “I know you won’t be able to keep your nose out of it with
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how headstrong you are, so I won’t restrict you from the case. But I
can’t allow you to be the lead attending on this case anymore. You can
stay on, but only as an assist to Jones.”
Louis wants to argue further, but he knows that will only end up
shooting himself in the foot. He is already on the thinnest of ice as it
is. At least he isn’t being completely banned or even suspended from
surgery all together, it could be worse. Steve’s judgment is fair no
matter how much it might upset him. “Thank you, Steve.”
“We go way back and I’ve always considered you a close friend, but if
I see you break protocol in any way again, you are off, got it? I don’t
care what title you have or how good you are or even how much I like
you, I will completely suspend you for your own good. Understood?”
The Chief eyes him seriously.
Louis nods once, expression blank but reasonably pleasant. “Yes.

Understood, sir.”
||✚||
Harry stands perfectly still, positioned at the very back of the elevator,
riding it up and down, not even with purpose. No rhyme nor reason.
Nothing feels real. That numb feeling, that horribly dark, ominous
feeling that he thought he’d left behind years ago, is slowly creeping
back over him, coating his vitally devastated heart.
He did originally get on the lift with a purpose. He did have a rhyme,
a potential reason. Harry had the intention of going down to the main
level and out to his car. He was going to go home and once again
collect a few of Avery’s favorite things to make her hospital room feel
more at home for when she hopefully wakes up.
But now that Harry is in the metal confinement, locked within its walls,
he can’t stop thinking about the harsh reality that she might never wake
437
up and he just can't bring himself to move, paralyzed by just the
thought.
People flutter in and out of the elevator, going about their day, carting
lab work, pushing wheelchairs, chatting, joking, living. But Harry stays
frozen; becoming more and more stationary, losing more purpose with
each ding of the bell. No one knows what he is going through, no one
knows the dithering shift of willpower afflicting his body, the devout
heaviness burdening what’s left of his heart.
Harry doesn’t quite know how long he rides the elevator from level to
level, but after awhile it empties out and soon he is standing in the lift
completely alone. The sudden solitary atmosphere gives Harry the
space to let his deepening cracks show, the encumbrance of everything
he so greatly fears hurtling down on him. Somehow he is once again
facing the potential loss of his daughter, the only piece of himself he
has left it seems and he feels so incredibly alone. Not simply in the
literal sense of being alone on the elevator, but in his situation. It seems
he has nowhere to run to, no place to turn, nothing offering him peace.
He misses Louis.
God, he misses Louis.
He saw him only but an hour ago and yet all Harry can do is miss him
still. He misses not only his physical presence, but he
misses knowing Louis, he misses the right to his friendship. To be able
to freely rely on him and be around him without reason. Harry misses
Louis’ arms around him, the feel of his soft fingertips on his skin. He
misses Louis’ gentle voice whispering unfailing comforts and
reassurances in his ear. He misses the palliative scent Harry can always
find at the base of Louis’ neck. He misses the sound Louis makes when
his beautifully uplifting laugh escapes his lips in surprise. Harry misses
the devout strength of Louis’ eyes, holding up the weakness in his own.
Last night Harry went through one of the worst moments of his life,
the world ended and yet being cocooned in the calm of Louis’ arms
made him feel safer somehow, made it almost bearable. An
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unexplainable peace fell over him, making it painfully obvious that
Harry never once stopped missing Louis from the very moment he
stupidly decided to leave him.
No matter how they ended or what went on between them, Harry can
never deny that Louis understands him more than anyone ever has.
Like a sixth sense, he somehow always knows exactly what Harry
needs, exactly when he needs it. Louis knows what to say, he knows
what to do, he knows him.
Harry wraps his own arms around himself in a feeble attempt to self-
soothe, nuzzling his head down against his own chest, but the tears
come regardless. The tremors come regardless. The pain persists
regardless.
Thank god he’s at least alone in the elevator as his relentless emotions
gradually get the best of him. The longer he stands there, barely
holding himself together, the more he tragically falls apart. And he
starts to wonder how many times he can completely break down in the
span of 48 hours, he must be reaching some sort of record by now. As
much as he wants to stop himself from losing control, it’s futile when
the pain hurts this severely. It’s too much, it’s far too much and he
can’t possibly begin to handle any of it.
Harry at least tries to stop crying before the elevator doors open again,
hoping to make it to his car or something, but the tears keep coming,
wave after wave after wave until soon he is full on sobbing hysterically
by himself, bracing the side of the elevator to keep from collapsing.
The bell rings and the elevator doors slide open before Harry has even
registered what’s going on, let alone pulled himself together by any
standard. He looks up slowly, swiping at his dreadfully teary eyes and
is shocked beyond belief to see Louis standing there.
He looks to be a bit upset about something, muttering under his

breath, but as soon as he realizes the elevator has arrived and he lifts
his gaze from the ground, his eyes settle on Harry and his entire face
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completely softens with worry. Louis’ eyes wonder a wordless
question, a silent concern as he stands just outside the elevator doors.
All pretenses forgotten, Harry drops his arms down to his sides weakly,
not having the strength to even think about pretending to be ok. It’s
all just too fucking much and honestly, he is barely standing upright.
i’m not ok, i’m not
Louis takes one look at him and immediately rushes into the elevator
without a single word or question, enveloping Harry into his arms.
Harry sighs against him, taking his first real breath of the hour as the
doors close and that unmistakable and familiar peace rushes over him
like a welcomed flood, bathing him in a momentary blanket of serenity.
Louis cradles Harry’s head gently, rocking him soothingly as his fingers
weave through Harry’s curls. They don’t say anything to each other,
only sharing silent comfort as Louis gently strokes Harry’s hair. Harry
squeezes his arms desperately around Louis’ smaller frame, folding
himself into his arms, head nuzzled into his neck as he cries heavily.
The two of them share so much history together, good and beautiful
moments woven amidst so much heartbreak, tainted and ugly. And
that same amount of history and understanding they share is evident
in their tight embrace. Louis doesn’t ask why Harry is crying alone in
an elevator, he doesn’t ask where Jesse is. He doesn’t ask what
happened or how. He doesn’t ask for any explanation, he just is there,
safe and strong arms encircling Harry’s back. And Harry finds that
Louis’ arms are the only place where he feels like he can even start to
breathe again.
i miss you so much…
Harry wants, more than he’s ever admitted, to just stay wrapped up in
Louis’ warm, safeguarding embrace. He remembers how similar it is
to how they first met, Louis completely unhesitant to pull Harry right
into his arms. A perfect stranger offering the perfect hug.
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Louis wasn’t wrong, the hugs he gives are extraordinary, miraculous
even. And through every single step of this never-ending ugly battle
Harry is facing, the comfort Louis’ arms bring have continually saved
him time and time again.
And that simple fact also brings about a new sense of confusion
because Harry hasn’t forgotten his commitment to another man, a
man he promised to marry. Harry knows that he cares for Jesse, but
even still he finds his heart longing for Louis in a way he has never felt
for anyone else in his life.
He longs to keep him, to hold him, to extend this fractured moment

of peace forever. But this moment is fleeting. Soon the elevator bell
will ding, and soon Louis will untangle his strong arms from Harry’s
body, and soon Louis will exit the lift, and soon Harry will be all alone
once again. All alone with all his problems weighing him down, eating
him alive piece by piece.
And as soon as Harry thinks it, it happens.
The elevator bell dings its imparting doom and Louis slowly pulls back.
He stares into Harry’s eyes for a moment, conveying something Harry
isn’t sure he understands. It’s meaningful and it’s sincere, but it’s also
sad and full of uncertainty. And before Harry can properly place what
he sees in Louis’ eyes, Louis turns away, having said nothing to Harry
the entire time they were together. He disappears out of the lift and
down the hall towards the main lobby, not turning back.
A group of nurses step on to the elevator and the metal doors close
again before Harry can begin to process what just happened. Louis was
here one minute and gone the next. The moment passed by so quickly,
Harry almost feels as though he easily could have imagined it. All he
can cling to is the lingering scent of Louis’ lost presence floating
around him, the ghost of his sturdy arms holding him steady. And
Harry fights so hard to hold onto it, bask in that fading feeling of safety
for as long as he possibly can. But it doesn’t take long for Harry to feel
just as empty and hopelessly scared as before.
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CHAPTER 10
the seams are jagged.
||✚||
Hours pass, blending into days, bleeding into weeks and all the while
Harry stays glued to Avery’s unconscious side. Nurses and doctors
come in and out, taking vitals, running labs, ordering a constant
revolving door of tests, but nothing changes. Nothing fucking changes
and Harry is hardly holding it together with each passing moment.
He tries to distract himself, tries to do what little work he can manage

from Avery’s hospital room, but it’s all useless. He misses her. Harry
misses his little Avery so much. He would do absolutely anything to
see her bright dimpled smile again. Or hear that cute little laugh. He is
dying to listen to Avery ramble on about her most recent passions, like
the dire importance of saving the walruses along with all endangered
aquatic life or sit and answer all of her many questions about the most
random of things that are somehow exceedingly important to her. And
Harry’s motto when it comes to his daughter has always been if it is
important to Avery, then it is equally important to him.
If he could trade his life for hers he would, oh god, he would. If he

could somehow throw himself in front of her and take the bullet aimed
at her precious temple, he wouldn’t hesitate. But the bullet is already
in her blood, coursing through her system, contained within her failing
body. Harry can’t stop the gun from firing, but still he isn’t ready to
pick up the fallen casings.
Jesse comes in and out, but he can never stay long. Always an excuse
on his lips, talking of work or meetings or conferences, rambling out
useless apologies and justifications for his repeated absence. Harry
would be more upset if he had the energy, if he had the will to care.
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But all his emotional faculties are honed in on his daughter, focused
on just being there for her, making sure she knows she is not alone.
Harry spends hours talking to Avery, even though he knows she won’t
respond back, but he doesn’t ever want her to feel lonely. He doesn’t
know how much gets through to her, but it doesn’t quite matter
because he would do it regardless. Harry reads to her and sings to her
and he tells her every moment how much he loves her and how much
he misses her.
Sometimes his mind drifts back to old memories of the two of them,
when Avery was just a baby and Harry was an absolute mess trying to
figure out his role of sudden fatherhood. One particular memory never
fails to put a small smile on his face. His first real bonding moment
with Avery all those years ago.
“Oh please, Avery please.” Harry begged, standing in the middle of

the baby food isle with a collection of baby food jars in each of his
hands and a 9-month old baby who wouldn’t stop screaming. He’d
been in the store for the better part of an hour, trying desperately hard
to figure out what Avery liked, all to no avail. Avery refused to eat, in
fact she refused to do just about everything but cry, all day and all night
it seemed.
And Harry felt way out of his league, having no earthly idea how to
calm her down or how to get her to eat regularly. She wouldn’t even
sleep and Harry felt what nonexistent energy he had left completely
depleting before his eyes. He’d tried everything—he’d bought a hoard
of new parenting books and watched countless videos, but no where
does anything cover his specific and unique situation. As hard as he
tried, Harry just didn’t have a bond with Avery yet—he was probably
just some other random person to her at this point.
“Please stop crying—please, Avery…” Harry tried again with little to

no hope whatsoever.
Avery’s entire face glowed bright red as she wailed inconsolably,

frustrated cries echoing throughout the grocery store.
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“I don’t know what you want me to do, ok? I don’t know! I don’t get
it!” Harry groaned in utter frustration, pleading that she’d just cut him
a break. “You won’t help me out at all, all you do is cry and scream at
me! I don’t know how to take care of you! I can’t do this…”
Avery only cried harder, face worked up beyond belief. Passerby

shoppers looked at them in concern, whispering to themselves as they
continued on their way about the store.
“Avery, you have to meet me halfway here, please?” Harry pled,

bending down a bit to her eye level. “What if I open them up and you
can taste them and we can see which ones you like? Huh? How about
that? Will you do that for me?”
She of course cried regardless, paying almost no mind to anything

Harry was saying to her. He grabbed a couple of jars out of the cart,
popping the tops off of them in hopes of inspiring Avery to want to
eat one of them.
Harry held a jar of blended carrot in front of her face, praying that
maybe, just maybe it would entice her enough to stop crying. “Doesn’t
that smell good, Avery? Yes, yes it does.”
Avery screamed her absolute disapproval, wailing at what has got to

be the top of her tiny lungs.
“Or no. Maybe it doesn’t. Ok. Got it.” Harry held his free hand up in
surrender and then set the open jar down. He picked up a new flavor
that was also orange tinted, mixed with pumpkin and squash.
“Ok, so how about this one?” Harry twisted the cap off and offered it
to her slowly. And Avery didn’t even open her eyes, content on just
screaming her little head off. “Ok, so not that one either. Are you sure?
Really sure? I guess that’s a definite no.”
Harry went through jar after jar, opening up nearly every type of baby
food flavor and brand available until the area around their cart was
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littered with open jars. But Avery seemed to have the same adverse
reaction every single time, completely uninterested and even angered
by the appearance of baby food. She cried irritably, moving her head
away from every small jar offered as she continued to through a fit.
And to be honest, Harry wanted to cry along with her. He just wanted
to give up and scream and cry and yell and throw a tantrum of his own.
He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. A twenty-four year old
single dad was not how he ever expected to describe his life. And it
felt so unfair in so many ways, but there was not a damn thing he could
do about it.
Harry sank down to the probably filthy floor of the store, holding his
head in his hands as his overwhelmed, exhausted and despondently
frustrated feelings got the best of him. How was he going to reasonably
survive life as a dad if he couldn’t even get her to eat? And in Harry’s
depressed and discouraged state, his mind escalated from zero to one
hundred on the worst case scenario scale nearly instantaneously. If he
can’t feed her then she’ll die of starvation and it will all be his fault and
he’s pretty sure that’s some form of child neglect or something
horrible and serious and then he’ll be in trouble with the law and then
he’ll probably be a felon, but then maybe he’d be deported for abusing
his rights as a green card holder and then who knows what might
happen next, maybe he’d become a fugitive on the run or just say fuck
it and become an actual criminal—but maybe he doesn’t quite have
the demeanor to be “bad”—he could never survive as a drug lord or a
spy or assassin or some shit like that, he’d probably turn himself in
after the first failed go of it, but it doesn’t matter because all of this
would only be the result of him failing to care for a baby.
Harry looked up from his existential crisis only to see a store employee
giving him a judgmental look from the front of the aisle, eyeing all the
opened baby food jars scattered around him, along with the screaming
baby still sat in the cart.
“Oh, no…” Harry sniffled, swiping at his tearful eyes as he stood to

his feet again and tried to regain composure. “I’ll buy all of them—I
swear. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m having a really hard time and
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a horribly shitty day trying to be a parent and I suck at it—you didn’t
ask to know that, sorry—I’ll pay for it all, really, I promise. Sorry,
sorry.”
The employee’s expression quickly morphed from judgmental to

sympathetic as he considered Harry’s clearly calamitous state. He gave
Harry a piteous nod before walking away, leaving Harry once again
alone with his baby food jars and still crying baby.
“Fuck...” Harry groaned to himself, throwing his head back. He’s such
an embarrassment, he doesn’t know what his life has become anymore,
and he surely doesn’t recognize it as his own. But the fact of the matter
is, this is his life now and he’s got to find a way to make it work no
matter how hopeless it may seem.
Harry took in a deep centralizing breath, zoning his attention back to

the screeching infant, wailing from the cart. “Avery, hi, hey…” He
cooed in a softer tone than before, in an attempt to soothe her. “Ok
Avery, it’s gonna be just you and me for a while now, yeah. So we have
to work together…How about I taste it with you, huh? Would that
help? What do you think?”
Harry popped open a jar of something made up of yams, carrots and

peas. It was an odd puce color and it didn’t look all that appetizing at
all, but perhaps if she saw him eat it, she’d be more inclined to do so
herself—hopefully.
He stuck his finger in the jar and lifted a hearty serving to his mouth,
making a show of eating it while nodding his head as if it’s the single
best thing he’s ever eaten. “Yummy yummy—ugh god
that’s nasty!” Harry choked, sputtering out baby food all over his own
shirt. “No wonder you hate it…”
But Harry’s choking, interested Avery enough to pause her incessant

crying, just staring back at Harry curiously with a deep frown on her
face.
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“Hey...you stopped crying…” Harry coughed, still choking on the
baby food lodged in his throat. His cough involuntarily jerked his
hand, causing baby food to unfortunately splatter on his face and his
T-shirt. “Wonderful…this is just wonderful.”
At that, Avery immediately started to giggle in complete amusement,

reaching up at Harry’s baby food covered face with a wide smile on
her face.
“Oh, you’re laughing at me now, great.” Harry nodded a bit

sarcastically as he used his already soiled shirt to wipe the blended baby
gunk from his face.
She continued giggling, tiny cheeks still red and wet, but her face
beamed happily up at him.
And to her credit, Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her, his own
frown morphing slowly into a full on grin. Her laugh was infectious,
paired with her tiny dimples and cute little baby teeth, she was
absolutely precious.
“Well I guess it is kinda funny, huh?” Harry laughed along, reaching

down into the cart to grab one of the boxes of cereal he threw in there
earlier. He figured since he’d already opened everything else, he might
as well have a little snack of his own.
Harry opened a box of Honey Nut Cheerios, popping a handful into

his mouth as he leaned against the cart next to Avery. She watched
him intently, no longer laughing, but not crying either and Harry
considered it progress. “Do you like Cheerios?”
He held a few out on his hand to her and surprisingly enough she
reached her grubby little fingers out and took them easily, slowly
bringing them into her mouth.
“Oh, wow look at that. I guess you’ve got the munchies too.” Harry
grinned softly down at her as they munched on cereal together. “You
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know Munchie would be a kinda cute name for you, you’ve got the
chubby munchkin cheeks and everything.”
She quickly finished her few pieces of cereal and then made grabby
hands at him again, clearly wanting more.
“Alright, Munchie, alright.” Harry laughed in a fond sort of way, giving

her a few more cereal pieces to munch on. “Well forget the baby food,
I’m only feeding you Cheerios from now on.”
And the funny thing is, she’s still oddly obsessed with cereal to this
day. Harry did get her onto baby food eventually, not so much the
vegetable flavors at first, but she did take a liking to the fruit flavors.
Banana became a favorite of hers and she loved to have it mixed with
Cheerios. Odd, but effective.
Harry misses those days now more than ever, those innocent pure days
of just the two of them struggling it out together, not knowing what
to do. It was hard at the time, impossibly hard, but even still it was all
so much easier than this. Harry so desperately misses his little Munchie
and he could say it a million times over and it wouldn’t be any less true,
he misses every single thing about her, and he doesn’t know what he
can do.
Every day that he doesn’t hear her voice or see her smile or share her
laugh, a piece of Harry tragically dims. She was his light in a dark place,
everything about her glows from within. Her little heart is always so
filled joy, encapsulating happiness with every one of her bright giggles.
And what’s even more beautiful about Avery is that her personality is
infectious, the hopeful enthusiasm she carries in her heart spreads so
quickly, so easily touching everyone she interacts with.
So much so that Avery easily got all the medical staff on her floor to
fall in love with her since she’d been initially diagnosed all those
months ago, and her entire room is proof of it. Tons of flower
bouquets and get well balloons tied to fluffy stuffed animals, mostly
walruses and ladybugs, decorate her room and even though she isn’t
awake to see it, Harry knows she’d absolutely love it. And that lovely
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dimpled smile that he misses so much would easily spread across her
face.
Harry is not the only one who misses her, he’s seen Louis whisper to
her too. When Harry gets up for little walks around the hospital,
sometimes he’ll come back to find Louis on the edge of her bed. It’s
not a medical visit, Harry knows that. It’s personal. Louis cares about
her and the bond he has with Avery is rare and special. So Harry never
interferes, letting them have their time together.
They don’t talk about whatever happened in the elevator, but there is
a subtle shift between them. Whether it is a good or bad shift, Harry
doesn’t quite know, but the previous qualms between them have
ceased. Louis has taken to stopping by every so often, just popping in
to say hello and ask how Avery is doing, even though Harry knows
that Louis obviously already knows the answer because he is her
doctor after all. But soon Harry comes to realize that Louis is more so
asking how Harry is doing, subtly trying to check up on him. And
Harry finds that their little daily exchange, no matter how brief, is
rapidly becoming the only good part of his long days.
“How is she today?” Louis asks from the doorway to Avery’s room,
leaning against the frame as he watches Harry closely.
Harry lifts his head at the unexpected sound of Louis’ voice, he glances
back towards Avery’s stationary body before sadly casting his head
back down again. He does a quick internal diagnostic of his own
disheartened emotions before slowly answering with the exact
opposite of how he really feels. “Ok…yeah…alright…” He whispers
and it doesn’t even sound believable to his own ears.
i’m barely holding on
Louis seems to already know the truth Harry is hardly concealing and
he begins to venture further into the hospital room. And it’s not at all
surprising that as the distance between them diminishes, the safer
Harry begins to feel. Having him in the room makes Harry feel a bit
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less lonely, even if only for a moment, and he wishes Louis would stay
with him for the rest of the day, keep him safe, keep him grounded.
“Have you um…eaten anything?” Louis tries, keeping his tone as light
as he can.
Harry just looks at him, wondering how truly awful he must look
through the eyes of someone else. He caught a glimpse of himself
earlier this morning and he hardly recognized his own desolate face.
Dark, heavy bags under his eyes from all the nights of rest he isn’t
having, accompanied by a horrid puffy redness from all the time he’s
spent crying instead.
“Well—because um…I was just on my way to the coffee shop across

the street…” Louis explains, hands stuffed down in his lab coat
pockets as he sways a bit on his feet. “The one we uh—erm anyway…I
know you don’t want to leave her…but I could uh pick something up
for you? If you’d like? Yeah…”
“Oh, I…um…” Harry mumbles, pushing his fallen, greasy hair back
from his face. Louis doesn’t have to do him any favors or go out of
his way to help him. It’s not his responsibility to care for him.
“Harry, you should really eat something…” Louis suggests gently,

moving a little closer as he meets Harry’s gaze seriously. “Food is
probably the last thing on your mind right now but…you need to eat.
And I don’t mind…like I said, I was going there anyway…”
Harry is immediately reminded of all the times Louis would ensure that
Harry ate something after his sister passed away. He definitely would
have starved himself to death back then if it wasn’t for Louis
constantly worrying over him, always trying to take care of his needs.
Louis has always been so sweet to him, even now with all that hangs
in the air between them, he’s still just as sweet and just as kind and it
somehow makes Harry want to cry—as everything does these days.
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“Ok…” Harry agrees finally, knowing that food probably couldn’t
hurt. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Louis shrugs with a small smile as he moves

towards the door again. But then he pauses, turning back around to
face Harry slowly. “Um…I have a free hour before my next
surgery…” He starts tentatively, and his voice sounds so much quieter.
“I can sit with you if you want um…I mean I don’t have to if you don’t
wa—”
“Yes.” Harry blurts, unable to deter the desperation from leaking

through his voice. He can’t begin to speak on how impossibly lonely
he has been, but perhaps Louis already knows that. “Erm—I mean if
you’re not busy…”
please stay with me…
“I’m not busy.” Louis reassures with a gentle nod. “So, I’m gonna go
pick up the food and I’ll be right back.”
It only takes Louis fifteen minutes to go to the coffee shop and back,
carting an entire bag full of baked goods as well as two drink orders,
one for each of them. Harry thanks him repeatedly, knowing there is
no way he can eat all of these scones by himself, but Louis only smiles
softly, meeting Harry’s thank you’s with concerned yet serious
reminders to eat.
Louis settles down in the empty chair on the other side of Avery’s bed
with his own cup of coffee and a scone, quietly updating charts on his
tablet. Harry picks at two different scones at once, because for
whatever reason he is wildly indecisive right now. And while he slowly
starts to eat for the first time in what might be days, he attempts to
read through and answer the dozens of unread emails from his job.
And even though they hardly speak to each other the whole time,
having Louis there with his gentle calming presence means more to
Harry than anything else.
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||✚||
The days continue to trudge by, with no change to Avery’s condition.

April 5th comes along, the anniversary of Gemma’s death, which also
happens to be Avery’s birthday. Harry decided long ago that on this
day, they will only celebrate life, not mourn loss.
But on this particular April 5th, Harry doesn’t feel like celebrating life
much at all, especially since his reason to celebrate life is fighting to
keep hers. He can’t shake his downcast mood even when Louis pops
by, instead he sits motionless in the chair right next to Avery’s bed,
gently holding one of her tiny hands with both of his. He’s been sitting
here, in this exact unmoving spot, for hours, only staring at her, willing
her to come back to him.
wake up, baby…please wake up…
“It’s her birthday…” Harry whispers in the smallest voice, not even
looking up at Louis, just feeling his presence in the room.
Louis nods slowly, smiling sadly at the comatose child as he speaks just
as quietly. “I know…I could never forget today.”
“I had hoped that maybe she’d…she’d wake up in time for it.” Harry
lifts one of his hands to swipe at his eyes. He feels like he should have
cried himself dry by now, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. “She
loves birthdays…”
Louis moves a bit further into the room, coming to stand by Harry’s
side in silence.
“I can’t believe she’s already nine years old…” Harry whispers in

saddened awe, hand clasped tightly to Avery’s. He shakes his head
painfully, taking in a shuddered breath. “Nine years ago, I wished that
Gemma was here instead of her and now she’s—she…”
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Harry can’t even finish his sentence, closing his eyes as quiet trickles
drip from his eyes.
“Harry, you were grieving then that was ages ago.” Louis rests a gentle
hand on Harry’s shoulder and Harry tilts his head slightly towards his
touch. “Everyone thinks things they don’t really mean when they’re
upset.”
“But I meant it. Louis, I really meant it.” Harry finally looks up to meet
Louis’ eyes tragically, saltwater overflowing down his cheeks. “And it
doesn’t matter when it was…I’m supposed to be her f-father and I…I
failed h-her…all I do is fail her.”
The remorse Harry feels seems never ending these days. There are so
many things he could have done differently, so many things that
horribly altered the trajectory of Avery’s life. Avery had the potential
to have two parents in her life, she could have had a stable home all
this time, a loving stable home. He keeps repeating what Louis said to
him a few months ago, replaying it and envisioning what it could have
looked like if things were different, if he’d never left.
i loved her like she was mine and as far as i was concerned, i was one of her parents.
and i would have always been that for her...
Who knows what life would look like for her, who knows how things
would have evolved and changed if Louis was actively apart of her life
every step of the way. It hurts to think about; it hurts realizing that the
actions Harry long justified as right, caused more damage than he
could have ever imagined.
“That’s not true. Avery knows you love her, she knows you would do
anything for her.” Louis reminds softly, hand still rested reassuringly
on Harry’s shoulder.
“I would...anything…” Harry’s voice cracks through the word, but he

means it with his entire heart and then some. He would go to the ends
of the earth to stop her suffering, to find a way to heal her failing body.
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And he will never know the words to describe how watching his child
go through this tears him up inside.
Harry stands up, leaning over his daughter to press a long, broken kiss
to her forehead. His shed tears spill over, falling down to her serene,
still head. “Happy birthday, Munchie. I love you, sweetheart…” He
sniffles, words hardly given enough sound to be audible. Harry inhales
deeply, trying hard not to break down again in front of Louis. He rubs
harshly at his eyes, already moving towards the door. “I…I’m gonna
uh…get some fresh air…”
“Ok...” Louis nods quietly, watching Harry closely, although he

doesn’t stop him from leaving. Harry can practically feel Louis
worrying over him, but as much as Harry wants to bury himself in
Louis, he needs to breathe and process everything on his own.
||☤||
“Happy birthday, Aves.” Louis whispers as he drops down into the

chair Harry was just sitting in.
Part of him, a scarily large part, wants to run right after Harry and
make sure he’s ok. Like some kind of reflex action, Louis wants to
always ensure that Harry is alright, but he also understands that Harry
needs his space, he needs the chance to deal with things as best he can.
Plus, although Louis completely disapproves, Harry still has a fiancé
whose arms he can run to and find comfort in if need be, so Louis
decides the only place he needs to be is right next to his favorite girl.
Louis hates seeing her like this more than anything, so quiet and
helpless, void of the life that makes her shine so brightly. But Louis
likes to talk to her anyway, as if she’ll somehow answer him right back;
they once had so many conversations, so many laughs, so many jokes.
Louis can almost hear them echoing through his head and the memory
tugs his lips into a sad, tilted smile.
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“You know, even though I wasn’t physically with you, I thought about
you every single year on this day—your birthday. I wondered how big
you’d gotten or if you’d maybe gone through any quirky
developmental phases as a toddler. I kept trying to guess what your
favorite food might be or your favorite color—I always pictured it as
being yellow. Bright and radiant like the little golden specks in your
eyes. I thought about what your hobbies might be or how your
personality might have developed. I tried so hard to picture how
beautiful you were…” Louis describes softly. “And you know? Now
that I know you again, I can say that you are 100% more beautiful than
I could have ever imagined.”
Louis takes her limp hand in his, lacing their fingers together. He stares
down at their joined hands, letting out a distraught breath. “I’m so
sorry that you aren’t awake to enjoy your day, Aves. I know how much
you love birthdays…but I want you to know that so many people love
you and miss you terribly. The world isn’t the same without you.”
He runs his thumb along her small hand gently, feeling the faint but
steady pulse thrumming through her veins.
“I got you a birthday gift.” Louis tells her next. At first he wasn’t going
to do it, figuring that maybe it wasn’t quite appropriate. But now, with
her life hanging in the balance, Louis decided he had to do it, especially
since he’s never been able to give her a gift in the past. He reaches into
his pocket and pulls a black jewelry box out of his lab coat. He spent
hours picking it out, wanting it to be absolutely perfect for her. And
what he finally decided on after much back and forth between him and
the jeweler, is a gold bracelet adorned by several customized charms
that make up little pieces of Avery.
“I hope you like it, love. It’s got loads of cute charms on it that I
thought you’d like.” Louis takes the bracelet out of the box to look
through the charms he picked out, not that he forgot them. He oddly
feels sort of nervous about it, even though Avery won’t be able to
respond. He just wanted to do something special for her and he
wanted her to always have something to remember him by. “There’s
of course a walrus because how could there not be, right? And a little
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lemon because of our mutual friend, Lemon The Walrus. There’s an
‘A’ for Avery and a tiny ladybug…because you love those too. And a
yellow sunflower because those are your favorite. Oh, and there’s a
little crayon for all the times we spent coloring together. How very
cheesy, I know.” Louis laughs a bit to himself, imagining what Avery
would say or how she’d try and tease him. “But I thought it was really
cute, yeah.”
Louis pauses as his finger’s settle on the the last charm on the bracelet,
staring down at it in his hand.
“And the last one is from me—well they are all from me, obviously,
but…um this one is especially from me…cuz you’re my little
heartbreaker...” Louis’ voice falls down to a whisper, the words coming
out shakily. He fiddles with the charm in his hand, a small locket heart
with the word Aves engraved on its shiny gold surface. Inside the
locket holds an old picture of a young intern Louis cradling a smiling
baby Avery in the NICU.
“Funny story, I found this picture only a few weeks ago…” Louis
explains as he opens up the small heart. “I was down in the NICU
waiting for a patient of mine and on the wall is a huge mural of pictures
of newborn and premature babies that made it. It’s always been there,
but I…I dunno? I never really paid any mind to it before. But I had
some time, so I looked over them—hundreds of pictures overlapping
each other, covering the whole wall, but somehow I spotted this
one…of you and me.” He looks back down at the image inside the
locket, taking several breaths in hopes of keeping himself calm. “I
remember that day…it was the day you were cleared to finally go
home. You were—god, you were so gorgeous. That’s the day I started
calling you Aves, and you just…loved it.” He smiles a bit as he
remembers how truly beautiful his little baby was, all smiles and giggles
as he held her in his arms.
i miss you aves, please wake up…
“Anyway…I hope one day you’ll be able to wear it…” Louis sighs with
heavy sadness in his heart, closing the locket and placing the bracelet
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back inside the jewelry box. He sets it down on the table next to her
bed along with a birthday card he wrote for her. “I hope one day you’ll
come back to us.”
||✚||
Whether positive or negative, the solitary time to himself over the last
few weeks does give Harry space to think. Think about himself, about
his life, about his relationships, his choices, his mistakes. It’s
something Harry hates to do. He hates confronting himself in any
aspect, laying out his choices and facing them head on. He always
somehow ends up even more confused by the end.
Harry knows what he’s avoiding, of course he does. It becomes more

apparent each day that passes. But the thing is, Harry cares about his
fiancé, he really does. Things aren’t great between them right now, far
from it actually, but he still cares for Jesse and he’d never want him to
get hurt. But at the same time, he gets the feeling that staying with
Jesse is the easy way out. Yet he doesn’t know what to do about it,
more so, he doesn’t know exactly what he wants to do about it.
Harry would be lying if he said that he ever felt the same around Jesse
that he does for Louis. Louis has a way of bringing the very best out
of him, complimenting parts of Harry in ways that he never thought
possible. But that doesn’t stop Harry from feeling hopelessly confused,
somehow he has become so disconnected with his own emotions, so
locked within himself, that he can hardly decipher or even begin to
separate how he really feels. Harry can’t seem to put the lingering
emotions to tangible words and express himself.
There is still so much space separating him from Louis, so many things
need to be said and talked about, everything is charged and distant but
yet—what is it that still makes him feel so safe around Louis? What
makes him feel so secure just being in his presence? The fact that Harry
is going through one of the roughest storms in his life, but when he
looks at Louis he feels momentarily at peace, like drifting into the eye
of the storm—that can’t mean nothing. It can’t. Right?
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His already strong feelings for Louis grow stronger and more
complicated everyday. It’s growing harder and harder to fight them off
and keep them at bay and Harry isn’t sure he even wants to anymore.
But the fact remains that he has a fiancé. A man he was planning on
making a lifelong commitment to, a man he has been faithfully
committed to for the past four years, a man he is supposed to love and
that also has to count for something. Right?
Harry doesn’t know. He doesn’t know and it’s continually fucking him
up inside.
It’s a little after 9 p.m. when Julie, Harry’s favorite evening nurse
comes by. He knows them all well now, all the nurses over all the shifts.
Harry is here all the time and they’ve basically become the only people
he sees anymore, they were bound to become well acquainted.
After Julie makes sure everything is in order with Avery’s vital

readings, as she routinely does every few hours, she turns her attention
towards Harry, giving him a look he’s come to easily recognize over
the passing weeks.
“Harry, I know this is so hard for you and all you want to do is be here
for her, but sometimes a little time away can do some good, you
know?” Julie tries gently, eyeing him with genuine concern. “Maybe go
home and sleep in your own bed and recharge. I think you’ll feel better
if you do.”
“No, I can’t leave her. I can’t.” Harry insists, although a bit weakly.
He’s so exhausted, it’s hard being here 24/7, he honestly doesn’t
remember the last time he had a good night’s sleep. Every time he goes
home, it’s always quick, in and out, grab a shower and clean clothes
and that’s it. Harry doesn’t want to leave Avery, he’s left her and failed
her so many times in the past and he refuses to do it again. What if she
wakes up and he’s not here, or even worse, what if something happens
to her—he would never forgive himself if he wasn’t here for his
daughter.
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“Harry, you can’t take care of her if your own health suffers. You need
to go home. At least for the night, ok?” Julie strongly suggests, in a
way that Harry knows means that the nurses will probably gang up
against him if that’s what it takes to get him to go home. “We are all
worried about you. All the nurses.”
Harry wants to continue protesting, but he can’t even think of what to

say in his defense, weariness clouding his thinking. “But I…”
“I promise if anything changes, I’ll alert you straightaway. You have

my word.” Julie assures, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze.
Harry does feel absolutely worn out, not just emotionally, but
physically. He could definitely stand for a good night’s rest in his own
bed. And that’s how he finds himself pulling into driveway of his
home. A few of the lights are on upstairs which means Jesse must be
home somewhere. Which is both a good and bad thing, Harry thinks.
Good, because this is the first time in who knows how many days that
Harry has come in contact with Jesse aside from brief phone calls and
scattered text messages. They’ve been passing by each other
repeatedly, schedules hardly ever seeming to align properly on Jesse’s
part and all Harry has been trying to do is have a conversation with
him to clear the air.
Which is why it’s also a bad thing that Jesse is home, because as much
as Harry just wants to go to sleep, he has things on his heart that he
needs to come clean about and he can’t push it off anymore. Harry
wants to be honest about how conflicted he’s been feeling lately and
all the guilt it carries. He doesn’t want to hurt Jesse, but it’ll hurt him
more if Harry doesn’t come clean about this now, before it’s too late.
He isn’t sure what he wants the outcome to be for them just yet, but
Harry wants to avoid blindsiding Jesse at the very least. He can’t hide
the way he feels forever and if he doesn’t start being honest, it will only
get worse.
Harry trudges through the doorway, groggily stumbling his way down
the opening hall towards the kitchen. He hasn’t been home at all in a
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few days, he realizes, but everything is nearly exactly how he left it,
save for the new stack of mail Jesse must have picked up splayed across
the counter. He absently flicks through it, hardly reading over the
many bills, interspersed with magazines and junk mail. His stomach
begins to grumble angrily at him and Harry remembers that he’s hardly
eaten a single thing all day, his appetite having been essentially
nonexistent ever since Avery’s been hospitalized. Harry can barely
stomach even the sight of food most days, constantly worried sick and
anxious over his child. He probably wouldn’t eat at all if it wasn’t for
Louis routinely dropping off food just for him.
Harry forces himself to eat at least a banana, deciding it’ll have to do

as a makeshift meal for now. He follows it up with a generous glass of
red wine, hoping it will help lull him to sleep.
Sleepily, Harry trudges up the stairs, shuffling down the hallway to the
master bedroom with his wine glass in hand. He thinks he registers the
sound of voices—or maybe just one voice, he’s practically delirious
with exhaustion and can hardly tell what’s what right now. Jesse talking
on the phone with work, most likely.
Harry opens the bedroom door and instantly drops the filled wine
glass, hardly feeling the stem slip between his fingers. The dark red
liquid seeps angrily into the light colored carpet, but Harry can’t even
focus on that at all because his attention is locked straight ahead on
the scene unfolding before him. The sight of it nearly burns his corneas
on impact. Any and all notions of having a good night’s sleep instantly
destroyed as he is suddenly more awake and alert than he’s been all
day. The banana lurking in the pits of his stomach instantly threatens
to make a reappearance, jumping up to lodge in his throat. Harry looks
on in absolute shock at the unwelcome sight of his fiancé, his future
spouse, the supposed love of his horribly damned life, moaning and
groaning obscenely along with the very fit, very vocal, blonde man
beneath him.
There are obviously no good parts to finding out his fiancé is sleeping
with someone else, but the absolute worst part of all is, Jesse has
never, ever fucked him like that. In fact, he always complains about
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topping because it’s apparently “too much work” and whenever he
does top, Jesse is pretty lazy about it to say the least.
Well, he sure doesn’t seem to be complaining much this time around.

Ain’t that a bitch.
i should have known…
“Oh my god…” Harry breathes faintly, mouth hanging open in

absolute horror. His hand is still gripping the bedroom door, holding
on to it for dear life, about ready to yank it from its hinges. He feels all
the blood drain from his face, as his heart rate tries to decide whether
completely flatlining or beating uncontrollably is a more appropriate
response.
“Fuck! Harry!” Jesse jumps in startled surprise as he notices Harry

standing in the room, instantly pulling away from the blonde man. “W-
What are you…why are you home?”
“Um…let’s see, well? I live here? It’s my house?” Harry answers

obviously in mocking question. Although somehow he feels painfully
out of place in his own home, gawking near the doorway on shaky legs,
having only made it that far into the room.
“But…but—I thought y-you were staying at the hospital o-

overnight?” Jesse stutters, holding a pillow to his groin as if Harry
hasn’t already seen it all. And then some.
“Yeah, obviously you did...” Harry’s eyes don’t leave the bed—can’t
leave the bed. The repeated imagery of his fiancé grinding against
another man, projecting through his head on an unstoppable, burning
loop.
“Umm…I should go…” Blondie pipes up suddenly, starting to move

out of the king sized bed and slide on a pair of briefs.
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“Oh, no! Please don’t get up on account of me.” Harry jumps to say,
taking a brave step forward. “And excuse my manners. I’m Harry, the
fiancé of the dick you were just riding. Lovely to meet you.”
Harry shocks even himself with the boldness of his words, it’s amazing
that he hasn’t started to fall apart yet. A large piece of him is ready to
curl up into a ball and sob, but he is actively fighting against it. He is
not going to break down, not right now anyway.
The blonde guy’s face pales even more and he looks completely
scandalized by the news, nauseous even. He frantically looks over to
Jesse, who won’t even meet his eyes. Pity.
“Harry…” Jesse whimpers his name painfully, laced with regret and
shame.
“No, no really Jesse, at least finish him off. Don’t be rude to our guest.”
Harry mocks, gesturing back to the cowering blonde man. “You’re
being a poor host.”
Jesse tosses a gaze at the blonde man in bed next to him. “Chris, I
think you should go.”
you think.
“I…I didn’t k-know, I swear!” Chris insists, looking towards Harry

apologetically. “I’m so sorry—if I knew I wouldn’t have—”
“Leave.” Jesse interrupts him forcefully.
Chris nods solemnly, looking as though he might burst into tears at

any moment. He collects his clothes off of the floor and slinks
apologetically behind Harry to exit the room.
“Oh but, hey!” Harry calls after Chris in a scornfully cheerful tone.
“Don’t forget to call, I’m sure Jesse will be free next week. You do
have his number right? If not, I can—”
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“Harry!” Jesse pleads in agony again, eyes rimming with saltwater.
“Wow, Jesse you let him get away? He seems like such a catch.
Apologetic and everything. I mean you must really like him if you
fucked him like—”
“Harry, please.” Jesse begs in utter humiliation.
“Or was it only too much work with me?” Harry questions, sucking
on his teeth in exaggerated consideration.
“Stop Harry! Stop it! Just stop, ok?”
“Stop what, Jes? Huh, babe? I’m just admiring the piece of ass you
desecrated our relationship for.” Harry spits, words laced with
resentment. He glares at Jesse, begging him to look him in the eye and
refute his words, he wants Jesse to meet his eyes so Harry can see the
exact moment the man he thought he loved lies to him.
“No, it’s really not like that Harry—I love you—”
“Oh, you love me? Really? Is that why I just caught you fucking
someone else in our bed! Our BED! God!” Harry yells angrily in
disgust as he starts ripping the soiled sheets off of the mattress. “I
don’t need this right now!”
Jesse shakes his head frantically. “I…I made a mistake…I didn’t—”
“Didn’t look like a mistake a few minutes ago.” Harry argues. “Is this
what you’ve been doing? What you’ve been so ‘busy’ with? Why I
hardly even so much as see you anymore?”
Jesse pales even more, stammering and stuttering. “I…well…no…I

mean—”
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Harry stops stripping the bed suddenly to look up and meet Jesse’s
eyes once more. “How long?”
Jesse tilts his head remorsefully. “Harry, please…”
“How long?!” Harry shouts this time, marching over to where Jesse
cowers in the middle of the room.
Jesse shakes his head repeatedly, fighting tears. “I-It doesn’t…it d-

doesn’t matter—”
“Oh, don’t tell me it doesn’t matter! Don’t fucking tell me that it

doesn’t matter, Jesse!” Harry yells furiously. “It matters!”
“It was just one time and—”
“Don’t! Don’t fucking lie to me Jesse, you owe me at least that much!”
Jesse remains silent, but in his silence the truth is revealed, like a
revelation pelting Harry down to the ground.
Harry staggers back, shaking his head with betrayal laden eyes.
“So…since Avery got sick…” He drifts off, putting the missing puzzle
pieces together in his head. “That’s what you’re saying, right?” Harry
looks up, hand on his wildly beating chest. The writing has always been
on the wall, hasn’t it? “When you kept making excuse after
excuse…when there was always something that came up…or
somewhere you had to be…something so much more important than
me—that night…that night when Avery seized and you weren’t
there…”
Jesse rushes towards him in an attempt to wrap him up in his arms.

“Babe, please—”
“Oh, no, no don’t fucking ‘babe’ me!” Harry jolts away from him like
his touch physically burns his flesh, and maybe it does. “Are you
seriously telling me that instead of being my goddamn fiancé and
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holding my hand during the hardest time of my life, you were out
having an affair?!”
“It wasn’t an affair!” Jesse cries, scraping a hand through his messy
hair.
Harry lets out a mordant laugh at that. “Oh, ok. My mistake. Then
what was it, Jesse? What the ever loving fuck was it!?”
“I don’t know! An escape! I just needed somewhere that wasn’t all

about death and cancer and…and…at first it was just someone to talk
to, but then… I don’t know—it just happened…”
“It just happened! Are you serious!? Well, excuse me if my daughter’s

brain cancer is an inconvenience to you and your happy-go-lucky life!”
Harry spits sardonically, hands waving wildly in the air around him.
“No, fuck you! This whole time—this whole time you’ve been betraying
me...repeatedly stabbing me in the back!”
“You were busy and we’ve been seeing each other less and less. It was
always about Avery and there was always something more important
than us happeni—”
“My daughter is dying! She is dying!” Harry screams angrily, hands

raised above his head. “And you’re complaining that I was too busy
for you?! You selfish bastard! You know what I’ve been going though,
you know how much Avery means to me! Do you think I chose this?!
That I fucking wished this upon my life and I’m doing it all out of spite
for you?! God!” Harry throws his head back and lets out a deep livid
groan. “How self-obsessed are you!? Did you even care about her!? At
all!? About me, even?! I needed you, Jesse! I needed support. I still do
need support and every time I looked to you, you were nowhere to be
found—”
“Yes, well I’m sure the almighty and beloved Dr. Louis Tomlinson can
save the day! Always ready to lend a shoulder to cry on!” Jesse
interrupts bitterly, shoving Louis’ name down his throat with so much
465
belittlement Harry could choke on the words. “I’m sure your cherished
blast from the past can fulfill all your supportive needs!”
“Don’t you dare bring him into this!” Harry seethes, practically
grunting his words through his teeth at this point.
“He’s part of this! He’s the reason for this! I would have never cheated
if it wasn’t for him! Ever since he came along, our life has been a
nightmare!”
“A nightmare?! He is her doctor!” Harry yells exasperatedly, hands

raised. “He is fighting to save her life! Louis cares! Which is far more
than I can say about you!”
“Oh yeah sure, he cares alright…” Jesse spits resentfully, rolling his
eyes vindictively. “I see how he looks at you, how you act around each
other. I see all the little moments you share. I’m not fucking blind!”
Harry shakes his head slowly, waving a cautionary hand at Jesse. “You
don’t know anything about him. You don’t—you don’t know what we
had…what he was…to me…” He looks down for a moment, voice
falling off as he considers his own words.
“Oh, so you did have something then?” Jesse taunts, almost

righteously, stepping closer to Harry. “What was he to you, Harry?
Really, I’m dying to know. Because every time I ask the fucking story
changes!”
“Stop.” Harry warns, eyes narrowed as he clenches his hands at his

sides.
“‘Oh, he was just my sister’s doctor!’ Or ‘were just old friends!’ And
my personal favorite, ‘nothing ever happened between us!’ Lies! Lies!
Lies!” Jesse continues, getting more and more cocky about it,
sauntering about Harry’s face as he tries to turn this back on him. “So
what is he to you, Harry? Because obviously there is more to the story.
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Let’s just get it out in the open now. A fuck buddy that got too clingy,
maybe? A needy little bitch who can’t move on—”
At that Harry instantly snaps, hand flying to slap Jesse hard across the
face before he even registers what he is even doing. “Don’t you ever
talk about Louis like that.” Harry snarls venomously through his teeth,
eyes fierce and unwavering. “Louis has been nothing but kind to me,
even when I didn’t deserve it. He was there for me when you weren’t.
When you were out fucking random men in our fucking bed. So don’t
you ever speak his name with anything but respect.”
Harry’s breathing grows harder, shoulders rising and falling heavily as

emotions course through his adrenaline ridden body. He lowers his
hand slowly, staggering backwards on weak legs until he drops down
on the ottoman positioned in front of their bed feebly, head cradled in
his hands.
After a moment, Jesse drops down in front of him, hands on Harry’s

knees. “I’m sorry…” He whispers softly, laying his head down to rest
on Harry’s lap. “I’m sorry, whatever he is to you—I won’t bring it up
again. I’m sorry…”
Harry just stares blankly at the now darkened wine stain by the
doorway, not moving as Jesse wedges himself in between his legs,
snaking his arms around Harry’s middle. He can’t seem to tear his gaze
from that same looming spot, a physical reminder of the exact moment
his heart registered betrayal. Jesse continues to grovel, nuzzling his face
against Harry’s lifeless, unimpressed body. He can’t believe he spent
hours agonizing over Jesse’s feelings, over his wellbeing and all the
while he was out setting fire to Harry’s heart.
how did i get here…
“Please talk to me, baby please…I love you.” Jesse begs, mumbling his
words into the bunched up fabric of Harry’s shirt pooled at his hips.
“It’s only you, you’re the only man I love.”
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Harry’s lips part brokenly, mouth falling open weakly. His unfocused
eyes blink heavily in some sort of twisted daze, while his body remains
utterly motionless. Jesse continues to press between his thighs, but
Harry hardly registers his touch at all. He feels numb. He feels void.
He feels hollow.
i can’t do this anymore…
“Please, I love you babe…I love you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Jesse is
holding Harry’s limp hands, bringing them up to his lips tenderly,
trying so hard to say all the right things, to give all the right affections,
to somehow win Harry over. He gazes up at Harry’s emotionless face,
begging him to look at him, to meet his eyes. “We’re okay Harry, we’re
okay.”
i don’t want to do this anymore…
“Go…” Harry whispers eerily, it’s almost soundless, a rush of pained

air tumbling from his lips. Although he has yet to move his body even
an inch, silent tears begin to drop heavily from his dead eyes.
“No, baby I’m sorry. We can fix it.” Jesse assures, squeezing Harry’s
fingers in comfort. “We’ll be fine, we’ll fix it. It’s okay.”
Harry shakes his head repeatedly, heavy tears dripping in weighty

droplets from his eyes, teeth gritted. “No. Go.” He says it with more
force this time, harshly yanking his hands away from Jesse’s grasp and
moving to stand up. “It’s over.”
“But I love you—”
“You don’t love me.” Harry contests instantly, whipping around to

glare at Jesse. “No one who loves me would ever treat me like this.”
“We can fix this, Harry! We can! I won’t do it again! I promise!” Jesse
keeps trying, attempting to hold on to Harry as he stands to his feet.
“I want to marry you! Don’t give up on us!”
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“You already gave up on us. You ruined any chance we ever had at
marriage when you stuck your wandering dick in someone else.” Harry
bites harshly, pushing him off and standing to his feet suddenly.
Jesse drops his hands to his sides as though he’s just been singed, the
heat of Harry’s words lingering in the air around them. Harry turns on
his heel, storming across the bedroom to the walk-in closet as Jesse
scrambles pathetically from his knees.
“Harry? Harry, what are you doing?” Jesse worries in an ever-growing

frantic voice, following him blindly to the walk-in closet. “Harry?”
Harry doesn’t bother to answer him, instead focused on filling his arms
with as many garments of Jesse’s as possible. Yanking shirts and suits
from their previously organized racks, grabbing anything and
everything of his fiancé’s that he sees.
“Harry? Just talk to me please…” Jesse stands by the closet doorway.

“What are you doing?”
Arms full of garments and suits alike, Harry storms past Jesse as he
walks right out of the room and proceeds determinedly down the hall.
He stops right in front of the stairs, casting the heap of hangers
ceremoniously over the banister and watching them fall and crumble
down to the first floor.
“Harry!” Jesse shouts helplessly, watching on as Harry turns around to

face him. “Please!”
“Get the fuck out of my house.” Harry grits roughly, glaring at Jesse
with only ice. “I don’t care where the hell you go or what you do to
get there, but I never want to see you again.”
Jesse stands stunned, head shaking wildly, but his body doesn’t move
at all. He looks absolutely terrified by the look of unmovable stone in
Harry’s gaze.
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“Get out! Get out! GET OUT!” Harry screams furiously when Jesse
only stands looking at him in shock. The house is under Harry’s name,
he bought it himself when they first moved back to Seattle. They were
originally going to buy it together, but for whatever reason they
didn’t—Jesse making up one of his typical bullshit excuses that Harry
glazed over stupidly, repeatedly telling himself it was no big deal. But
maybe it was providence after all, because Harry works his whole ass
off to pay the mortgage on this house by himself and since they aren’t
married, Jesse has absolutely no right to it. Not one single reason to
stay here any longer. “Get the fuck out of my house or I swear to god,
I’ll drag your sorry ass out!”
Harry can’t take this anymore, he can’t take the bullshit, and neither
should he have to. He owes himself more than this. He has been
bending over backwards to try and make things work. Fit a mold that
wasn’t cut out for him and in the process Harry lost himself. He lost
little bits and pieces trying to fit into the perfect projection of his life.
A cardboard cutout that in no way resembles his reality. And what’s
worse, he isn’t even happy. He kept telling himself over and over again
that he was in love with Jesse, that they were in love with each other—
perfect for each other. Saying it so many times in his mind, he gradually
mistook it for truth. But somewhere amidst all those mendacities, the
real truth was lost and sadly, so was Harry.
“N-No… I’m not n-no…no…” Jesse protests timidly, voice weak and
wavering. “I’m not l-leaving…n-no…”
Harry clenches his fists, jaw tense as he roughly brushes past Jesse back
into their bedroom. He goes straight for the bed, immediately setting
about finishing tearing the sheets and bedspread from the mattress.
He bundles all the bedding up in his arms and marches out of the
bedroom and straight down the stairs.
Jesse follows after him, tears in his eyes. “Harry—no, please. I love you,
I do...I love you!” He pleads incessantly. “I was j-jealous and I…I was
stupid a-and I don’t know what happened—I thought I was l-losing
you and—”
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“Get. Out. Of. My. House. NOW!” Harry roars angrily, swinging the
front door open and throwing the sheets outside to fall on the wet
front porch steps.
Jesse is crying, full on crying. Heavy tears pouring from his eyes with
shaking shoulders and a horribly runny nose. But Harry doesn’t feel
the slightest bit sorry, all he feels is all consuming anger.
Harry blinks at Jesse several times unapologetically, before he crosses

the spans between them and scoops up a bunch of disheveled clothes
from the wood floor, shoving them into Jesse’s arms roughly. He then
proceeds to forcibly push Jesse right out of the house.
Jesse is sobbing and promising a whole host of assurances and

apologies, but Harry hears nothing but static and bullshit. He doesn’t
want to hear it and he refuses to listen. They reach the front door and
Harry swings it open again, wasting not a single second in shoving
Jesse outside in the rain.
“Harry…” Jesse begs in a sad hopeless whimper, the sound of his

voice barely audible. He stands outside on the wet porch in just boxers,
surrounded by a pile of soaked linens. Jesse weakly drops the crumbled
clothes in his arms and feebly tries to reach out for Harry again. “…I
love you…”
Harry looks at him in disgust, backing into the house and away from
Jesse’s arms. He yanks his engagement ring off his finger and throws
it in Jesse’s face. “Fuck you.”
Jesse shakes his head piteously, waterworks starting up again as his

body trembles. “No, no n—”
Harry doesn’t even want to entertain his sight anymore and swiftly
slams the door closed in Jesse’s pathetic face. He holds his hands to
the door for a moment and he can still see Jesse crying in the oval
window of the doorway.
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Harry weakly slides down against the closed door as the furious spikes
of adrenaline wear off, hearing his now ex-fiancé screaming at him
from the other side, pounding against the door. He pulls his knees up
to his chest and tries not to fall apart, rocking himself in slow closed
off motions, willing himself to stay together.
“Harry! Harry! You don’t mean it!”
Harry buries his face in his knees, arms wrapped tightly to his own
frame as he sobs into the material of his jeans. It hurts, everything
hurts so badly and Harry feels like he is losing his mind. The betrayal
of it all hitting his already emotional state of being like an oncoming
truck. He really spent hours agonizing over Jesse’s feelings, over his
wellbeing and all the while he was out fucking strangers without a care
in the world. How could he be so blind? So naïve to it all?
“Harry! I love you! Harry!”
He can’t do this. He can’t stay here and listen to this all night. He never
wants to see Jesse again, let alone hear his cries and screams ringing in
his ears. He can’t deal with this right now. Not on top of everything
else.
“Please Harry! Please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”
Harry harshly wipes his face with his shirt sleeve, leaving his skin
stinging and red. He forces himself up to his feet, taking a deep breath
before he gathers his keys, phone and wallet and walks through the
house to the garage. He hops in his car, presses the garage opener
button and starts the engine. As he backs out, Harry sees Jesse staring
at him in the rain and all Harry thinks is that he needs to change the
locks tomorrow.
He is so fucking serious about never wanting to see him again.
Harry feels a lot of things right now, ranging emotions on the rise. But
in an odd sense he feels a strange sense of something he wouldn’t
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expect to feel at a time like this. Something out of place, but somehow
understood.
relief.
It’s the strangest revelation. Harry finds out his fiancé has been
cheating on him and in some way he feels a slight sense of relief,
of freedom.
It hurts, god of course it hurts. The unforgiving sting of betrayal singes

his heart like being cruelly branded against his flesh and he feels so
stupid for even caring about Jesse’s feelings when he obviously never
gave a shit about his.
But if Harry is going to be honest with himself, which he rarely is, he

knows that Jesse was always a temporary fix. A way to fill the void, the
hole that’s been in his heart since the night he stupidly left Louis’
doorstep.
He told himself that Jesse could make him happy and be there for
Avery and give her the other parent figure she so desperately needed.
He made himself believe that they would be a happy little, picture
perfect family. He wanted that happily ever after notion so badly that
he overlooked so many key flaws, major incompatibilities and repeated
inconsistencies. Harry glossed over reality simply because Jesse was
there. Because Jesse said that he loved him. They may have come close
to love at one point, but truly Harry only loved the idea of Jesse. He
was never the one.
But Harry was so hell-bent on proving to himself that he was ok, that
he was finally happy and that he could move on from the past. The
past with Gemma, the past with Louis, all of it. Harry just wanted to
leave it all behind. And because of that, he made so many excuses for
the stagnant state of his relationship with his fiancé. Harry isn’t dumb,
neither is he stupid nor blind. He knew Jesse could never fill that hole
in his heart, he could never replace all that Louis was and still is to him;
all the layers of deep-rooted connection they share.
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But he tried, Harry really tried.
And through every step, Harry didn’t understand why the reoccurring
thought of Louis always made him smile instantly. Or why seeing him
still made his heart skip beats after all these years. Why the world
around him is always so chaotic and ugly, but around Louis all he ever
feels is peace. Why Louis’ mood changes his own mood, chained to
riding the highs and lows of Louis’ emotions as if they were his own.
How he could be so intertwined with him, so much so that
understanding Louis is almost easier than understanding himself at
times.
Harry didn’t understand how he could keep running from something,

from someone and somehow keep getting thrown right back to the same
place. Or maybe…deep down he did always understand and that’s why
he kept running.
He’s running, always running, jumping from place to place, person to

person. Pretending he’s ok, pretending everything is fine, pretending
to live his life at ease. Harry can run and run and run, but the second
he meets Louis’ eyes it all catches up to him in an instant. He can’t
hide from anything, it’s all there, out in the open.
obvious. exposed. raw.
The only person on earth Harry can’t seem to outrun is Louis. And
that’s what scares him the most.
Yet, Harry keeps running back to him, time and time again, as if
magnetically drawn to him through forces he can neither understand
nor control. Even now, as Harry blindly drives down the suburban
streets of Seattle, he finds his car steering towards a distantly familiar
neighborhood. And soon, hardly registering how he got there, Harry
finds himself standing on a doorstep he hasn’t seen in ages. The last
time he was here, he’d been looking out of a cab window watching
Louis get smaller and smaller as he drove away.
Louis hasn’t forgiven him for that, Harry knows he hasn’t. And
frankly, Harry doesn’t blame him. It was cruel and it was heartless and
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he wakes up with regret laced through his thoughts every single day.
Leaving that night was the biggest mistake of his life and up until
recently Harry has been too prideful to openly admit that, even to
himself.
But although he realizes that now, the damage has already been done.
Louis made it very clear that he essentially hates Harry. The only
reason Louis really tolerates him at this point is for Avery’s sake alone.
Harry fucked up. His underlying feelings for Louis have been alive and
well since he first fell into his arms on that bench nine years ago. And
like everything else, he fucked it up. The easy way out has been to
blame the situation, blame Gemma’s death and blame the pain that
was birthed from it. But at some point Harry has got to hold himself
accountable for the shit he’s done no matter how much it hurts to do
so.
And furthermore, he can’t just hop from one relationship to another.

Yes, he may have very strong and very real feelings for Louis, but he
can’t just spring them on him out of the blue, it would sound
ridiculous. “Oh, hey just stopping by for the first time in nearly a decade to say
my fiancé cheated on me, but on the brightside I think I’ve always been in love with
you.” How utterly fucked up does that sound?
so why am i here? why the fuck am i here?
Completely soaked, hair drenched over his features, Harry’s hand

hovers over the doorbell. He stares at the small button, considering all
the implications and possible outcomes of what he is about to do—
what am i about to do?
Frankly, Harry still doesn’t quite know what his intentions are standing
on this familiar doorstop, but before he can try to sort it out, he throws
out all his inhibitions and boldly presses down on the ringer.
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A dog barks almost instantly at the sound of the bell ringing and Harry
can’t help but smile a bit because he hasn’t seen Benedict in what feels
like forever and just hearing his bumbling bark warms his heart
impossibly. He loved that blundering goof of a dog.
“Alright, Benny! Alright!” Louis calls from inside the house after a few
minutes of persistent barking. “Calm down, boy. I got it.”
Louis unlocks the door, creaking it open, mouth parting slightly in

surprise as he registers who is on his doorstep. “Harry? What are you
doing here—you’re all wet.” He reaches out suddenly to pull Harry
inside before he can even answer.
“You still live here...” Harry breathes out, almost in awe as he briefly
glances about the foyer of the house. It all feels so familiar and
welcoming, truly like what coming home feels like. A warmth spreads
through his chest, radiating over his whole body and in this moment,
that familiar peace rushes over him stronger than before.
Overly excited paws jump up and eagerly press against his thighs,
jolting Harry back to the present. Benedict hikes up on his hind legs,
bounding up and down to greet him as if not a day has passed, as if he
always expected Harry to come back home. “Hi buddy! It’s good to
see you! Aww, I missed you too, Benedict!”
“Well, of course I still live here, it’s my house.” Louis responds

obviously before turning his attention to the suddenly hyperactive dog.
“Benny! Down!”
Harry sinks down to the floor to properly hug the eager dog around
his soft fluffy neck. He let’s out a happy little laugh when Benedict
sweetly licks his face affectionately. He’s always been such a softie and
now that he’s older, the dog has only gotten sweeter.
“Huh, well he certainly still loves you.” Louis notes with a small grin,
stepping back to let Harry play around with what once was their dog.
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“He doesn’t like many people, you know? He’s so finicky, especially
since he’s gotten older.”
“That’s a good boy, Benedict.” Harry coos warmly, with his cheek
pressed against Benedict’s speckled fur, rubbing his back. “You’re still
a sweetheart.”
“Is…um is everything alright? Is Avery ok?” Louis worries as Harry

returns back to his normal standing height. “The charge nurse didn’t
page me—she was fine when I left—”
“No Louis, she’s...” Harry casts his head down for a moment, feeling
that heavy feeling return to his heart once more. He can never escape
it for too long. Slowly he forces himself to lift his gaze back up to
Louis’ concerned eyes. “She’s the same…but um...I…”
Louis looks at him, really looks at him, in a way that only Louis can.
And from the expression of his face, he must be able to tell that
Harry’s been crying. How can he not after all? Harry looks like absolute
shit. He can’t even pretend to hide it at this point. Even though his
whole body is wet, the water around his eyes didn’t all come from the
rain and somehow he can’t hide that. The obvious red rings and
irritated tear ducts and puffy nose, all point to only one thing.
Louis tilts his head softly to the side, deep concern bathing his
expression. “Hey…what’s wrong, H? Are you ok?”
The sound of Louis calling him only by his first initial, the gentle rasp
of his delicate voice, tugs at Harry’s heart, leaving him only wanting to
bask in it. How Louis packs so much tenderness and compelling
empathy within the confines of a single letter is beyond Harry’s
understanding.
“Harry.” Louis calls his name softly, not as a question more of a

reminder that he’s right here. That he won’t push, but he is ready to
listen if Harry is ready to share. But Harry doesn’t know if he is ready
to share. He doesn’t know much of anything right now. All he knows
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is that of all the places he could have gone in Seattle at this hour, the
bars, the clubs or even back to the hospital, his heart somehow guided
him here.
Because regardless of all that has happened between them, Harry still
feels a sense of safety being here, being with Louis. And it’s not the
house. Harry knows it’s not the walls of this warm, familiar house that
draws up such a safeguarding presence. It’s him.
It’s Louis.
“Do you wanna…maybe—get out of here?” Harry asks suddenly,

avoiding Louis’ questions. He knows how odd it must all be, him
showing up at 11:49 at night on Louis’ doorstep asking him to just up
and go. But he has this compelling urge to just get away, to go
somewhere where he can breathe, and he doesn’t want to go alone.
For once he doesn’t want to go alone.
Harry pushes his floppy damp hair from his face and meets Louis’ eyes
seriously. “Go somewhere? With…with me...um—I don’t know…”
Louis frowns in bewilderment, but he doesn’t express any form of

rejection or denial of the offer. “What? Now?”
Harry simply nods his head half-heartedly, hardly trying to convince

Louis of anything. In all honesty, Harry is more prepared for Louis to
kick him out on his ass than anything else. It would be understandable;
Louis doesn’t owe Harry anything.
“And where are we going to go?” Louis wonders, blinking up at him.
Harry thinks for a moment, not expecting Louis to entertain the idea.
Where can they even go at this time of night? Somewhere not too far,
but still eluding to an escape. Harry obviously didn’t think any of this
through, that’s what he gets for acting on impulses. But suddenly he
remembers a place, a place he has never once forgotten, a place he
would only ever go to with the man standing before him.
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“Somewhere only we know.”
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CHAPTER 11
held together just enough to function.
||☤||
Louis hasn’t been up here in years, for he dared not venture where his
own doomed ghosts roam freely, where tormenting memories lurk and
linger in the very air, hiding under every rock, prowling behind every
tree. Instead he’s spent the last nine years pretending that this old
pathway, his feet find achingly familiar, doesn’t exist, that its winding
dirt trail doesn’t lead anywhere of significance and it was all a figment
of his tortured imagination. But the closer they get to the top, the more
Louis realizes that is so very far from the truth, as an unceasing stream
of memories from the many journeys up here flood his mind.
And it’s almost like he can see them, the phantom shadows of their
younger selves looming along the forest floor that leads up to their
once treasured meadow.
Louis looks to the right and all he can see is the two of them taking
Benny on long walks that so very often turned into unexpected runs,
Harry always tripping over the exact same stump in the narrow road
without fail, no matter how many times Louis warned him about it.
ghosts.
He tears his gaze away, reframing his mind only to see reminders of
him and Harry lying flat on their backs on the soft grass, echoes of the
morning light peeking through the clouds as they would talk for hours
upon hours at a time, somehow never bored of all the nothing they
were doing.
more ghosts.
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Louis closes his eyes against his own haunted reframe, but it doesn’t
stop the memories from leaking through. He opens them to see eerie
figures of himself reading to Harry, resting his head against his chest
until Harry would find some reason to interrupt him. Only ever
interested in discovering new ways to get Louis to laugh, saying the
most ridiculous and absurd things until Louis couldn’t possibly hold it
in any longer. They’d always end up gasping for air among their shared
laughter, finding a rare happiness in each other’s eyes.
ghosts, everywhere i look, ghosts appear
Of all the things he could have possibly agreed to, Louis can’t believe
that he even entertained the idea of this impromptu adventure to his
own personal hell. What on earth possessed him to say yes to coming
up here again? It’s midnight, it’s fucking freezing, and everything about
this place only reminds him, in the cruelest of ways, what it felt like to
fall in love.
Louis shakes his head, attempting yet again to rid himself of the
memories, at least somewhat. He stuffs his hands down into the
pockets of his hoodie and instead focuses his attention on the pace of
his feet next to Harry’s. Their synched footsteps trudge along the
muddy trail, climbing through the meandering woods in oddly
comfortable silence until they reach the distant, but altogether familiar
clearing.
The earlier rain has stopped and the night sky is clear and crisp with a
steady breeze. It’s just as beautiful as it ever was, the skyline stretching
out infinitely all around them. Stars gleam and dance brightly up above,
uninhibited by the faint illumination of the distant city lights. And the
dewy grass of the rolling meadow glistens under the glow of the moon.
“Wow…” Harry breathes out after several beats of silent awe. “It
hasn’t changed a bit in all these years…”
Louis nods slowly in agreement, sighing a little at the breathtaking

view. And despite his raw feelings of despondency towards the past,
there’s something still so overpowering and almost magical about this
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place that compels Louis to want to forget all his problems on the spot.
“Incredible.”
Harry crosses his arms over his own chest and turns slightly to throw
Louis a small crooked smile. “Seattle’s best keep secret.”
Louis grins reminiscently, gaze falling down to his muddied shoes.

“Yeah…”
Harry strolls a little further to the center of the vast field, plopping
himself down on the gentle grass. He lays back and spreads his limbs
out, looking up at Louis. He pats the damp ground, motioning for
Louis to join him. “It’s nice down here.”
Louis eyes Harry for a moment in consideration, thinking better of

this, but slowly lowering himself down to lie next to him in the grass
anyway. They lay side by side, close, but not touching, staring up at the
stars silently.
“I can’t believe I almost forgot how gorgeous it is up here.” Harry

awes, after a few minutes have passed. “It’s almost better at night.”
“It’s beautiful, yeah...” Louis agrees quietly, completely taken aback by

the view himself. It’s really such a shame that he hasn’t come up here
in all this time. A place like this is too rare a gem to leave behind.
“Mmm...” Harry hums softly, sighing to himself in the stillness of the

moment.
Louis quietly turns on his side to face Harry, watching on as silent tears
trickle down his smooth cheekbones, bathed in moonlight. Harry
showed up to Louis’ doorstep with so much pain held behind his eyes,
matched by his unshed tears. He looked hopelessly defeated and so
terribly sad, and that same expression hasn’t left his face as he lies
before Louis now. Louis wants to ask Harry what’s wrong, but
honestly a better question might be, what isn’t? His daughter is
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unconscious in the hospital with an inoperable brain tumor for fucks
sake. What isn’t wrong right now?
The tears gradually grow heavier, remaining quiet as they flow down
Harry’s face and Louis so desperately wants to reach over and carefully
brush each and every one away, but he somehow restrains himself.
“Ugh…god.” Harry sniffles, swiping at his eyes as though he’s

embarrassed himself with his own tears. He lets out a little awkward
wet chuckle, using the sleeve of his jacket to dry his face. “I’m sorry—
I feel like I’ve cried a million times in front of you…I’m probably
crying more than I’m not.”
Louis opens his mouth to refute Harry’s claim, but Harry tilts his head
to the side to meet Louis’ eyes in teary consideration, eyelashes still
heavy with saltwater, and Louis loses his entire train of thought in an
instant.
“And, you know I’ve never, not once, seen you cry…” Harry whispers
in a mix of awe and bewilderment. “I don’t know what it is
exactly...what happened to you…but…I remember when you told me
how you lost someone in the past that you couldn’t talk about…I
know you must have been through something horrible, but
yet…you’re still always so…strong.”
Louis frowns marginally at that as he rolls back against the grass to

face the sky again. In all the time that has passed since it happened,
Louis has never fully opened up to a single soul about it, keeping
everything resolutely locked within himself. Not because he doesn’t
remember what happened, but because Louis isn’t quite sure how he
will react to delving that deeply into his memory, uncovering things he
hasn’t dared bring up in ages. And honestly, he doesn’t really want to
find out.
But Harry is well—Harry and if Louis is going to tell anyone, it still

would only ever be him. What does he really stand to lose at this point?
myself…i stand to lose myself…
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“I was seventeen…” Louis starts slowly, not sure how far or how
detailed his mind is willing to take this. These words haven’t ever left
his mouth, he’s never properly told this story to anyone, not even to
Niall, Liam, and Zayn. He’s eluded to it, sure, grazed over the true
details in neutrality, but never has he spoken of it in detail from start
to finish, never has he shared the full extent as he remembers it. And
it’s already hard, his mouth drying up before he’s even finished a single
sentence.
“You don’t have to tell me, Lou.” Harry murmurs softly, he slips his
closest hand into Louis’ for reassurance. “You don’t have to talk about
it, it’s ok.”
Louis squeezes Harry’s hand, inhaling deep and audibly from his core
as he closes his eyes. He feels it already, he feels the awful cinch around
his heart, like a noose around his throat constricting him from taking
another breath. He can feel his own pulse thumping erratically in his
ears and it feels a lot like panic, too much like dread. Harry is right, he
could stop, he could hold it back, hold it in, push it out and far away,
but what good would that really do when it’s already at the forefront
of his mind.
“I was seventeen and my mum had asked me to run to the store.”

Louis finishes quietly, looking right into Harry’s eyes and finding it a
little easier to speak if he focuses solely on him. “And it was so casual,
you know? Something I did all the time—running errands for her
when she was tied up tending to my four little sisters. I never minded,
I loved to help her out wherever I could, so when she asked me to go
the store, I went.”
Louis voice is low, sounding uncertain and uneasy even to his own
ears, but he forces himself to continue on anyway. “The list was eggs,
milk, apples, cereal, bread, bananas, orange juice and animal crackers
for the twins—I still remember because she asked me to repeat it to
her several times because I was known to be a forgetful kid sometimes,
only because my mind was always on the next thing. I suppose I could
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have written it down or something, but I was also a smartass.” Louis
smiles faintly, remembering just how rambunctious and high-spirited
he was as a kid. “I remember the sun was just going down and I road
my bike to the store a few kilos from my house. It was a normal, casual
thing I did all the time, there was nothing strange or out of the ordinary
about it…but…even though it was normal and ordinary…when I left
my house that night, it was the last time I ever saw my family alive.”
And just saying that much, just bringing those fated words to light after
so many years, nearly takes Louis out. His body starts to shiver,
radiating from his hands throughout the rest of his frame and Louis
struggles to mitigate his rising emotions. Harry holds Louis’ hand even
tighter, and Louis, in turn, holds on to the expressive green of Harry’s
eyes, relying on the pacifying fortitude his presence always provides.
“It was a gas leak. One of those things you always hear scary,
cautionary warnings about all the time, but you never actually picture
it happening to you, because honestly what are the odds of that?”
Louis laughs without any humor, a dry crackle in his constricted throat.
“I know the odds of it actually, because when I replay what happened
in my head, the figures keep popping up like little taunting reminders
of how fucked up it is. There is a 1 in 2 million chance that you’ll die
from a gas related explosion. The number is so small it takes, like,
seven zeroes to write it out. For every 2 million people on this earth,
only one person is predicted to die from that and yet I know five
people who did.”
“And if there’s a leak in a house, all it really only takes is the smallest
thing to set it off, like flipping a light switch or unplugging something
or even using a wired phone. They couldn’t have known in time...”
Louis explains, remembering just how horribly unfair this is. “And so
I came home to a house that was on fire. Not just on fire,
but…unrecognizable. People were screaming and yelling and running
about—I don’t remember it vividly, but there was smoke and sirens
and so much screaming and I…I was stunned—probably in shock and
I couldn’t stop myself from walking towards my house…I didn’t feel
like it was actually happening, you know? It was strange, like an out of
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body type of thing and I probably would have walked right into my
burning house if it wasn’t for a paramedic who held me back.”
“‘It’ll all be ok,’ she said…” Louis recounts in a hushed whisper,

recounting the exact details of her face as if it were yesterday. “And I
must not have looked ok, why would I—how could I? But she held
her hands to my face and kept telling me to be strong and that it was
going to be ok. ‘Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry’—that’s what she kept
saying to me over and over again…” He mutters, still hearing the echo
in his head, overlaid with his own voice repeating the words to himself
time and time again. “And I didn’t. I didn’t cry again. Never again. But
it wasn’t ok…I wasn’t ok…”
i’m still not ok
And as Harry listens, tightly gripping Louis’ shaky fingers, it’s like he
understands exactly what Louis doesn’t say, able to read between the
silent lines. He understands that Louis doesn’t want apologies or
useless sympathies, just someone to listen. Harry’s emotive eyes mirror
the extent of his heartbreak, as though he feels the impact of Louis’
words on such a profound level. And really, he does. Harry does feel
it, because he lived it too—he’s still living it. More tears have sprung
to Harry’s eyes as he remains attentive to Louis, feeling the severity of
Louis’ heart-rending agony.
“I wasn’t ok and suddenly I was at the hospital, sitting in a waiting

room, just…frozen…” Louis recalls slowly, feeling a harsh,
unforgiving sting building up behind his eyes. “I tried to distract myself
by repeating my mother’s grocery list in my head… eggs… milk…
apples… cereal… bread… bananas… orange juic e…animal
crackers…” His voice wavers with every item on the list and he bites
down on his lower lip to keep from splitting apart right there. “I kept
trying to remember what the last thing I said to them was…when the
last time I told them I loved them was…but all I could think of was
that grocery list...it kept my mind distracted and maybe it was self-
preservation, my body’s own way of keeping me from flipping out…so
I repeated it, over and over again, I repeated it…until it was the only
thing left on my mind.”
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“But then the doctors started to come out…and the looks on each of
their faces was enough to snap me right back to reality.” Louis
continues, vividly picturing it all in his head as if he’s relieving it
through the eyes of his seventeen-year-old self. “The first one sat
down next to me—he was treating my oldest sister and he started
trying to explain what happened to her. He used words I barely
understood at the time…talking about vital asphyxiation of her lungs
and irreparable dermal lacerations and subcutaneous abrasions and
third-degree burns and severe internal contusions and I…I mean I
heard him, but it…it didn’t make any sense. He was explaining all this
shit to me…and none of it made sense…”
Louis pauses for a moment, just to breathe, just to locate his center of
gravity, but everything about his body feels weak and helplessly
unstable. “And…it just went on like that…doctor after doctor. I
wanted it to stop, but it didn’t. It was just one after the other like an
assembly line. A series of events I couldn’t stop, like relieving the same
nightmare over and over…” He describes brokenly, voice barely
above a whisper. “I’d be sat there, gripping the waiting room chair till
my nails dug through the wood and a doctor would come out and say
‘I’m so sorry’. And I’d nod and suck it in and right as I’d start to come
to grips with it, another doctor would come out and shake their head
at me and say it again. After awhile all I saw was their mouths
moving…but I could hardly register the sound attached. It was on
loop, you know? I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry…”
“Oh Louis…” Harry murmurs out in an anguished rush of air, tears

running down his face as he listens to him.
“I shouldn’t be alive.” Louis shakes his head weakly without any

semblance of understanding. He can feel water pooling under his eyes,
just waiting to spill over. “The only reason I didn’t die with them is
because I wasn’t there. For some fucking reason…I wasn’t there.
Because I was out getting eggs and milk and apples and fucking
irrelevant shit. And I couldn’t wrap my mind around it…for the
longest time I just couldn’t get my brain to
understand…because…they were there. One minute my mum and my
sisters were there, happy and beautiful and alive—of course things
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weren’t always perfect, what family is perfect, anyway? But we had
each other and we loved each other and…a-and they were there…”
Louis whispers dolefully, on the very cusp of breaking down into a
mess of tears. “Then they just…weren’t. They suddenly weren’t there
anymore and I was all alone feeling the phantom limbs of my family
all around me.”
“And I’m not telling you this now to get pity out of you, I’m telling
you because I want you to know that I get it...I really do...I know
exactly what you’re going through.” Louis utters, looking up at the
open sky again as his voice cracks in all kinds of places. “I’ve never
told that whole story to anyone because I hate the look people give
when they find out that you’ve lost someone that you love—it forces
me to acknowledge it and I’m not very good at that…but I…I think I
need to embrace my feelings…my grief…stop hiding and pretending
to be strong when I’m not—I accused you of running from your
problems when I do the same thing…” His breathing falls shallow,
becoming harder and harder to keep whatever he has left inside
together. “I don’t not cry because I’m strong… I do it because I know
I can’t h-handle it…”
Louis turns his head back towards Harry, both lying on their sides in
the grass as they gaze at each other. He wants to continue to fight
against his inevitable tears, he wants to push them back in and make
them go away because he knows if he allows himself to feel it, there
will be no coming back. He will crash and he will burn and any notions
of functioning or breathing will be all but lost.
But looking at Harry he can’t. Louis can’t possibly hold it in anymore,

not when it’s practically seeping out of his pores. There’s parts of
himself that Louis purposefully keeps locked up, a chain stringently
wound around his broken heart, spiked with barbed wire and
cautionary forewarnings. But without fail, Harry ignores all of that, he
defies the logic and parameters that Louis has safeguarded for his own
sanity. And when he looks at Louis, it’s like Louis is hopelessly
compelled to roll out the welcome mat, offering whatever remains of
his heart on a silver platter.
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The heavy tears that have brimmed under his eyes, that have been
burning and fighting with Louis this entire time, finally break through,
trickling down his cheeks in silent waves.
He hasn’t cried in so long, god knows he hasn’t. He hasn’t felt the hot
sting of saltwater rimming his eyes in decades. Louis has told himself
not to cry till he was blue in the face, acting like if he could reign in
control over his emotions then he could keep control of his life. But
it’s not true, it’s so, so far from the truth because all this time he’s been
building up a dam of bottled-up emotion, threatening to burst at any
moment. And now he’s helpless to the inevitable break.
“When I became a doctor people stopped seeing me as me…they

started to see me as this untouchable god…like I’m bigger than I am,
like I can do anything and save anyone and…and that made it easier
sometimes because it made me start to really feel bigger than I actually
am—like I have all this control over my life. But I don’t, Harry I d-
don’t…” Louis cries, the vulnerable wetness on his cheeks feeling so
unfamiliar. It’s been so long, he had sometimes wondered if he still
possessed the ability to shed tears anymore. “I’m not s-strong like
people think, I’m just good at hiding the ugliest parts. I can fake it…I
can force a smile I don’t actually have and I can say all the right things
and get by, but then I…I get so lost in it all and I completely lose
myself sometimes…but you never looked at me like that…not once.
And the only time I feel...I don’t know, like me again is when you look
at me. You see me—you really s-see me, not as the hotshot
neurosurgeon I’m made out to be b-but…as me.” Louis’ words come
out on a hushed exhale, curtained behind a veil of newfound, ever-
falling tears.
Harry’s mouth parts slowly while his eyes shine with the emotion lining
his entire expression and he wastes not a single moment in untangling
his hand from Louis’ in favor of wrapping both of his arms around
Louis’ body, pulling him in as close as possible.
And there is something to be said about being held like this, close like
this, intimate in proximity, strong and comforting. The welcome,
cathartically warm feel of human contact, a heart beating against his
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own skin, two pairs of lungs aligned, chest to chest, it makes it easier
to let go somehow, to relinquish the reigns of control that he never
lets slip from his grasp. And with his head burrowed against the
material of Harry’s shirt, Louis breaks in a way he never has, lost yet
found in the security of Harry’s resilient embrace.
“I see you...” Harry whispers indisputably after a few quiet moments

of holding Louis, like it’s his whole life’s testimony, like the only prayer
he’s ever said, the one thing he believes in and holds true. “I still see
you, Louis. I do. I promise I do. But you’re wrong. You are strong.
You’re so very strong. I see you...”
Louis cries even harder, entire body shaking as he continues to drown

in the countless suppressed feelings raging out of him at once. The
cracks, the many, many cracks of Louis’ porcelain skin can only hold
back so much. Only hold back so much stifled hurt and grievous
heartbreak before he shatters like tragically broken glass. Before the
last bandages and frail threads holding his fragile pieces together, rip
from their seams and the floodgates open.
It’s years.
Years of suffocated emotion, years of undisclosed feelings and

guarded reactions. Years of telling himself not to cry, not to react.
Years of denial, years of avoidance, evasion, and calculated
circumvention of reality.
And now it’s all pouring out at once. It’s pouring out in mighty rivers
rather than gradual trickles or calm streams. It’s pouring out of every
part of his aching soul, all the pent up grief he never properly mourned.
The grief he carries for the loss of his entire family, his beloved mother
and beautiful sisters. The grief he carries for the loss of Gemma, his
dear friend, the grief of losing Harry, the love of his life, the grief of
losing Avery, his sweet, precious baby. There is far too much grief to
be mourned in his life and Louis is absolutely powerless to stop the
effects he’s avoided for so long.
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So he gives in. He gives in, and completely let’s go, just this once. Just
letting himself be held by unfailing, familiar arms, letting himself be
soothed by Harry’s touch, as Louis has similarly soothed him so many
times. But it still hurts. More than the infliction of a physical pain or a
somatic ailment, no, it’s so much deeper than that. A pain coursing
richly through the very essence of his being; flowing so strong that it’s
hard to tell where his pain stops and Louis really begins.
Louis sobs harder and harder and harder still, but Harry holds him
through it all, unshakable arms locked around him as he entire system
breaks down. “You’re strong, Lou. You are strong, you’re strong,
you’re strong.” Harry whispers continuously like the abiding
lighthouse to Louis’ harsh tempest. His arms are wrapped so tightly
around Louis’ body, legs tangled together in the dewy grass, holding
him as he braves the mighty waves of his internal storm, facing things
he hasn’t so much as glanced at, for the first time in years. “God, you’re
so strong, Louis. I see you.”
Fuck, and he’s ugly crying now, runny uncontrollable hiccups matched
with stuttered sobs wretched out from deep down within Louis’ chest.
And maybe that should be embarrassing, maybe there should be a level
of indignity in all this, but there’s not. There never would be. Never
with Harry.
Harry pulls back marginally, only enough to look into Louis’ teary eyes.
He gently reaches between them and cradles Louis’ wet face in his
hands. As his tender fingers try their best to caress the ceaseless tears
away, Harry gazes at Louis with the softest expression laden in his eyes,
earnest and true. And somehow, despite his own pain, Harry’s own
heart seems to break that much more for Louis, reaching out to him,
like he really does see every fragmented piece of who Louis is at his
core. Harry is not looking through him or down upon him in a
condescending or even a patronizingly sympathetic way, but with
genuine understanding and concern. His face is heavily tearstained as
he seems to share the brunt weight of Louis’ shattered heart,
shouldering every horrific bruise Louis has endured, as if originally
inflicted on his own heart.
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Harry is nothing but sweet and ever so gentle, fingers twined in Louis’
hair, nestling his head, with his other arm held steadily around Louis’
back, just trying to calm him. Louis could allow himself to imagine that
this was it. Imagine that he was Harry’s and Harry was his and they
were it for each other, everything for each other. It’s not even hard to
pretend when Harry is holding him like nothing else matters, like no
one else matters, like they are the only two people left in the world.
Harry is right in front of Louis’ face, so close, so enticingly close. His

lips are but a breath away from Louis’ own and Louis wants to kiss
him. More than anything, he wants to lean in, close that fraction of a
gap between them, and press completely against Harry, relishing in the
feel of Harry’s lips flush against his own. He wants to taste the inside
of his mouth, allowing his tongue to try and figure out what’s changed,
what’s stayed exactly the same since the last time, since the first time.
But he can’t. Louis can’t do any of those things that his whole body is
desperately aching to do because Harry isn’t his. Harry has never been
his. Even back then, when they lived together and found themselves
inseparable in their unexpected life together, when they shared an ill-
timed drunken kiss Louis didn’t ever want to pull back from, when
Louis had fallen so helplessly in love with a boy just as broken as
himself—Harry was still never truly his. And now, Harry has moved
on, belonging to someone else, planning a future with someone else,
someone that he has come to love in Louis’ place. Harry has a fiancé
that isn’t Louis and a daughter that isn’t Louis’, he has an entire life
that no longer includes Louis.
They aren’t the only two people left in the world and this, this rare
moment of complete trust and reliant safety in Harry’s arms, no matter
how right it feels, isn’t real. None of this is real and none of this
changes their reality.
And the hurtful realization stabs Louis in every single one of his
unhealed wounds, twisting and turning the knife until he feels it, really
feels it, so much that he can’t possibly feel anything else. Pain. Only
pain. Raw and real and unwanted in every way.
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A scar laid over another scar, an older scar, still cuts the same under a
blade, still bleeds the same despite the time that has passed. The fresh
cut may come quicker, may pierce the skin easier, but it still bleeds. It
will always bleed.
Louis deals with vast amounts of trauma every day, physical, mental,
emotional, he handles it all with a practiced brave face and trained eye.
And maybe being faced with the traumatic events of others on a daily
basis makes it easier to avoid his own, to keep it subdued and on the
backburner of his mind.
He goes through life ignoring his pain, repressing it so far down, he

can act like it’s gone, getting away with acting like it never existed. But
it’s not gone. Of course it’s not. It never was and it never will be. It
looks him right in the eye everyday. It presses its weight like an
insufferable burden on his shoulders, pressing him down just a bit
more every single day.
But, oh how fitting life is.
How fitting it is to have the person Louis is crying about also be the
one to comfort him and hold him and look at him with soft, caring
eyes. Harry thinks Louis is crying about his loss, the loss of everything
he held dear and he was at first and in a way he still is. But now Louis
is crying about a different loss, the loss of someone who meant more
to him than he ever could admit. More than he ever allowed himself
to understand. He had screamed in Harry’s face that he was over it,
that he was done with whatever they were, but that couldn’t have been
further from the truth.
Nothing but a cowering lie. A lie to himself and a lie to Harry.
Louis has never once been over it, not in any way, shape, or form. He’s
never stopped loving Harry. He’s never stopped loving Avery. It’s
nearly laughable to think that he ever could have. His feelings are just
as strong and overpowering as they were nine years ago. Ever since
losing his own, all he’s wanted is a family, someone and somewhere to
belong to again. And he’d thought that perhaps he’d finally found one.
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In the midst of all he lost, all he gave up on, Louis had an unexpected
family in Harry and Avery that he so desperately needed.
Louis could tell him; he could tell Harry right now. Just come right out
and say it. Speak it right into existence.
i still love you…
He could pull Harry’s face to his own and press the hushed words with
his lips, pour the cherished refrain out of his mouth in reverence.
Sweet and soft, pure and true.
i love you, nothing’s changed. i still love you…
Or he could boldly stand up on this expansive, open hill, look out over
the edge and shout his declaration out to the city below, profess it in
earnest for the whole wide world to hear.
i’m in love with you, i’m in love with you, i’m in love with you…
But what would come next? What comes after professions of undying
love and resounding declarations of devout adoration? What happens
when the overwhelming fanfare of it all dies down and reality sets back
in?
There is nothing simple about either them, whether together or apart,

they’re both complicated and painfully complex, riddled with poorly
healed wounds and battered by the countless bruises of life. And
maybe Louis isn’t ready to open Pandora’s box of shitty emotional
baggage and let Harry in again. And despite the way Harry is holding
him and soothing him, Louis has no way of knowing where he really
stands with Harry at all, he doesn’t know what’s going on inside his
head or his heart. For all that he and Harry were to each other all those
years ago, for all they could have been—the fact remains, stinging
stronger than ever before is that they weren’t together. They were
never a couple and they never had the chance to be. So what does their
complicated relationship even amount to?
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Nothing but heartbreak.
Harry’s hands drop down from Louis’ cheeks to wrap around his body
again, enfolding around his trembling frame and pulling him closer
still. Louis’ tears have far from ceased, but neither has Harry’s strong
hold on him. Harry continues to whisper gently in his ear, never ever
letting go, just holding him, consoling him, as Louis weeps into his
neck.
No, but Louis can’t do this, he can’t keep pretending. He can’t lie here
and remember the old days they shared, when they were younger,
when Harry was almost his—his heart, his family, his everything. It hurts
too much. Having Harry, this sweet, kind, and gentle version of Harry,
hold him and cry with him and grieve with him, acting like he’s here,
like he’ll always be here, hurts.
Because this isn’t real. Because this isn’t them—not anymore. Because
after this, they’ll part ways again, they’ll go off to separate homes, to
separate ideals of living. And tomorrow Harry will wake up with his
fiancé curled around him and Louis will wake up alone and it
fucking hurts.
don’t let me go…
“I have to go.” Louis pulls back suddenly, swiping at his eyes harshly
as he squirms free from Harry’s embrace, but it does nothing to stop
his rampant tears from falling regardless. “I’ve g-got to…um…g-
go…”
Harry doesn’t let him completely break free from his hold right away.
“Louis, don’t go. Please…don’t...”
Harry looks so earnest and gentle, pleading eyes so filled with warmth
as his thumb rubs Louis’ hand in soothing circles. And that only makes
it worse.
“We a-aren’t…we…” Louis shakes his head without finishing his

sentence. He forces himself free, standing to his wobbly feet. And
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once he’s out of Harry’s arms, it feels like there is not a single thing
holding him together anymore, nothing keeping him from collapsing
right back down to the ground. He feels so hallow, an emptiness caving
inside of him like never before and he can hardly take the overcoming
gravity of it. Before he knows it, he’s sobbing even harder, breaking
even harder, feeling the last composed pieces of himself dolorously
unthread.
“Lou…come here…” Harry pleads sadly with a tilted head, eyes

rimmed with tears, and there is something so horribly tragic about his
voice as though watching Louis fall apart right in front of him is a
torturous act. He stands and tries to pull Louis back against him,
reaching out to give comfort. And Louis wants him to, god, all he
wants is to fall right back into Harry’s arms and bury himself in
everything that is Harry. “Come here, please come here…”
hold me…i just want you to hold me
But Louis steps away from him regardless of what he so desperately

wants to do and it takes everything outpouring out of him to do so.
“No, Harry…we a-aren’t going to do t-this...”
Harry’s head moves at a loss, a loss for words or maybe a loss for what
to do next. His lip starts to quiver, equally wet eyes gazing longingly at
Louis like he can hardly stand watching on at a distance anymore. “Do
what? Louis, what’s wrong? Talk to me, please. You’re not ok—”
“I know I’m not ok! I’m not ok because you left me!” Louis painfully
sobs the horrid words out, shoulders shaking in such harrowing ways.
“You l-left but the memory of you never faded a-away. I…I haven’t
been up here in n-nine years, because the echoes of our voices haunt
this forest. A-And I almost g-gave up my dog, b-because saying his
name propels me backwards in t-time…and there is a whole r-room in
my house that I don’t d-dare go in…because it’s filled with things left
behind by a b-baby girl who I thought I’d never s-see again…and I h-
haven’t eaten Thai food since we ate it in takeout boxes on that s-
stupid impromptu picnic, the smell alone instantly makes me
nauseous…and I have two hundred and thirty-four bottles of that
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crappy wine we always got drunk off of in my b-basement…because I
buy it e-every single time it’s on sale…but…b-but then I can never
bring myself to d-drink it without y-you. The absence of you is e-
everywhere I look….and my m-mind was so desperate to see you
that…that I’d hallucinate h-hearing your laugh or your v-voice
and…I’d h-hear my Aves in every single baby that cried around every
corner, behind every closed door—it was you…always y-
you…and I…I kept thinking maybe you were b-back—back for
me…maybe y-you...” Louis’ voice fades away almost entirely, shaking
his head as he scrubs his hand over his face, more tears falling from
his eyes. “God…but n-now you’re right here…right in front of m-
me…holding me and I…I…”
Louis feels so overwhelmed—distressed and overcome by

inconsolable amounts of anguished heartache as his wretched sobs
subdue his broken speech. All he wants is to allow his weak knees to
buckle and let his exhausted body crumple down to the grass. And
feeling all that he’s feeling, at the magnitude he’s feeling it, Louis
probably would have done just that, tumbling right back to the earth’s
floor with no promise of ever getting back up. But then Harry closes
the last lingering amounts of distance between them, encircling Louis
once again in his arms before he collapses.
“I’m…here…I’m right here…” Harry breathes out tearfully, not

letting Louis go, instead enveloping him further into his arms. The
strongest parts of Louis allow himself to fold into Harry’s embrace,
relishing in the needed comfort it provides, until he just can’t take it
anymore and the weakest parts force him to pull back.
“But it still hurts…” Louis whispers near Harry’s lips, mouths ghosting
over each other. “You’re here…but you have a whole other life apart
from me, w-without me…and it h-hurts...” He closes his eyes for a
long moment, exhaling a shaky breath. “I let you in once and I made
myself deal with you leaving, I made myself move on as best I could—
but you leaving a-again...I…I…can’t…”
Harry tightens his grip, fingers digging into the material of Louis’
hoodie, and without needing to look, Louis can feel Harry burning
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holes into Louis’ skin with the pained severity of his gaze. There is so
much not being said, so many sentences being amended, words cut
out before given the chance to be heard, to stand on their own.
Louis opens his eyes slowly, braving Harry’s gaze one last time.
“Because you make me fall apart. Because no matter what you see when
you look at me, I’m not strong—I’m n-not.” He breaks away from
Harry’s hold, backing up on unstable, trembling legs. Louis’ whole
body is aching, begging him to stop. The further he steps away from
Harry’s embrace, the weaker he feels, but the more resolute he
gets. “I’m not s-strong enough for this...”
Harry starts to rush toward him again, arms still held open, inviting
Louis to fall back into them. His expression is clouded and uncertain
as his teary eyes search Louis’ and he opens his mouth to say more.
“Louis, I—”
“I can’t...” Louis practically begs out in anguish. He is breaking, and

needs to get as far away from this place as possible so hopefully the
feeling of falling apart will go away. “Don’t Harry. Just don’t.”
“Louis!” Harry calls, but Louis refuses to turn around. He refuses to

look back. Instead he propels his feet down the beaten down path,
through the calm forest as fast as his feeble legs will carry him.
And it seems as though Louis was right all along. There wasn’t much
he could have lost coming up here, but in the process of finally
allowing himself to be completely transparent and vulnerable, Louis
lost the one thing he stood to lose.
Himself.
And the scariest part is, Louis has no idea how to salvage the
calamitous shards of his fragmented soul and piece himself back
together this time around.
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CHAPTER 12
held together just enough to stay alive.
||✚||
There are only a handful of times in his life that Harry remembers
being utterly speechless. The first was when he was twelve years old
and he was told that he and Gemma were to be split up into separate
foster care homes. Thankfully it didn’t actually pan out that way, but
Harry remembers feeling a dreadfully paralyzing panic rendering him
without words for hours, commandeering his whole body.
It didn’t happen again until quite a few years later when he found out
his sister was terminally ill, followed by the disconsolate moment he
was told of her passing, drudging up that same god-awful numbing
feeling tenfold. Of course, the same happened when his daughter was
initially diagnosed and again when she fell unconscious. He found
himself speechless in the sense that not only was it impossible to form
intelligible words, he also couldn’t form thoughts or even basic
commands to get his body to function on any level. And it’s such a
specific, precise feeling that he can pinpoint every single time he’s ever
experienced it within his lifetime. Including tonight.
Tonight Harry was rendered speechless not by the picturesque view of

the late night skyline, not by the understated majesty of the scattered
stars above or how the incandescent light of the moon kissed
everything it saw in a lucent, magical glow. Instead Harry was left
speechless by a boy. A sweet, lovely boy more beautiful than all the
dazzling stars in the sky or the lustrous moon combined, a boy with a
heart bigger than anyone, a boy that Harry watched shatter into a
million unrecognizable pieces right in front of him.
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Harry had absolutely no idea what would happen by coming up here
again, returning to this place, this beautiful, secret place that holds a
myriad of lost memories for them. He had no idea what would happen
when he spread himself out on the dewy grass next to Louis. But he
sure as hell didn’t expect this.
To be completely without words, held at a standstill, with a total loss

for what to do next.
He hasn’t yet moved from the spot, feet cemented to the ground only
staring out at the narrow opening in the thick forest where Louis
disappeared through. There was not a single part of Harry’s body that
didn’t want to go after Louis, need to go after him. And the only thing
that stopped him was the cracked lilt to Louis’ voice as he begged him
not to, a horrible sound that continually reverberates against the walls
of Harry’s mind. Or the way he looked—Harry can’t begin to get over
the forlorn look of utter defeat in Louis’ eyes, the heart-rending
distress pouring out from his teary gaze. All the agony that has lain
dormant behind the clear blue of his eyes all this time, now dismally
exposed.
And to watch on like a bystander, fully knowing the role he’s played,
aware of all the ways he’s at fault in all this, but powerless to do a single
thing to make it right, is the most damning part of it all.
Gradually, Harry settles himself back down onto the grass beneath
him, finding his unsteady legs weary. He pulls his knees up to his chest
as he sits on the ground, locking his arms around his legs as he tries to
make some sort of sense out of things. There is so much to process,
but Harry doesn’t know where to begin, finding himself continually
overwhelmed. Utterly stunned. His mind races with all that just
happened, correlating key snippets of past conversations with Louis
along with flashes of old, distant memories. And overlapped with the
current series of events, a bigger picture comes into focus and more
and more begins to make sense. If there is one person that he has
always understood, it’s Louis. But after tonight, Harry knows that he
has never understood Louis as much as he does right now.
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Louis just showed every single bruise littering his skin and bared every
scar that he carries to Harry. It damn near tore Louis in two, but
somehow he did it and even as he cracked and broke, he was still
nothing but a tower of unending strength in Harry’s eyes. And Harry’s
heart can do nothing but tragically break for him.
There are so many complex and confounding pieces that make up the
astounding person Louis has become. Somehow, by some unworldly,
unpredicted miracle, Louis—beaten down, tragic, abandoned Louis—
is still an optimist. Despite the devastating pain he carries from day to
day, hidden deep down inside him and despite the numerous accounts
of grief he’s sustained, the constant heartache he endures, he is still
moving forward, he is still breathing, still trying.
Trying to make a difference, trying to better the lives of others, trying

to make the world a better place. Further proving that his mere
existence is a miracle in that of itself. He radiates hope, he embodies
faith, he exemplifies courage. Harry doesn’t know where Louis finds
the strength to keep going, let alone persist in a world seemingly rigged
against him. But through it all, Louis fights. Everyday he fights and he
takes chances and risks all to help others. Louis continues to save lives
and do all he can just to not watch someone else go through what he
went through: loss.
Unbelievable, profound loss.
And that’s why Harry’s heart can only break further still, because Louis
doesn’t even see how extraordinarily strong he really is, how
impossibly brave. His life is a testament, an inspiration. Harry can’t
fathom how, in light of his own loss, Louis ever summoned up the
strength to go through the rigors of medical training, being repeatedly
faced and involved with tragedies and traumas and deaths, but his
dedication to the lives of others is astoundingly courageous and heroic.
And it really just goes to show that you never really know what
someone else has gone through, what they are still going through. You
never know what scars lie hidden under shiny reflective masks, what
reminders are keeping someone from taking in full, confident breaths
501
into their lungs. Instead living by breathing in one, weak and strangled
breath at a time. With a broken heart that is somehow still beating,
doing the best they can to keep going on.
Harry always suspected that whatever Louis had been through was
terrible, but it’s terrible beyond measure, far worse than he could have
ever imagined. But regardless of his own personal torment, Louis still
comforted Harry. He soothed Harry when he was falling apart and
cared for him when he couldn’t care for himself and he still does. Louis
doesn’t have to, but he does.
And Harry feels horrid—fuck, he feels so nauseous with shameful

regret and dire remorse. He left Louis, he left him after everything, all
alone with no one to care for him in return. And by leaving him, Harry
took Louis’ only family away from him. Harry knows exactly what it
feels like to lose his family, he knows of what that kind of pain feels
like pitted in the darkest crevices of his heart and knowing that he
made Louis go through that again is the worst, most inconsolable
realization.
Oh, if Harry could only wind back the clock and turn back time to
relive that night. If he could take back everything he said to Louis
before he left, if he could somehow erase all of his selfish actions, wipe
the slate clean and do it all right. He’d break down in a mess of tears
and admit to Louis how truly terrified he was, of growing up, of being
a father, of moving on, of everything. He’d tell Louis over and over again
how much he needed him and how he was his only source of
strength left in his life.
And then Harry would tell Louis all about how he runs. How he runs
and runs and runs, it’s what he does, it’s all he does. He would tell him
how he doesn’t know how to move forward without running.
But now it’s been just about a decade and Harry still hasn’t stopped
running. He ran from Gemma’s illness. He ran from her death. He ran
from Louis, ran right into the mistakable arms of Jesse. Harry runs to
avoid his guilt, to evade his pain. He runs from the past, from the piling
missteps of his former self. But that’s the thing about running,
everything he’s running from doesn’t go away, it doesn’t disappear
magically if he squeezes his eyes shut long enough. It continues to
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follow him, looming over him like a dark, heavy cloud set to thunder
at any given moment.
And Harry knows this, he knows that everything he’s been so

desperate to escape has followed him regardless, but he never stopped
to realize how much the ceaseless course his running has taken hurts
the people around him.
Harry takes his time trudging back through the woods, following the
winding path that leads back to Louis’ house where his car is still
parked along the curb. He debates knocking on the door and checking
on Louis. But it’s obvious that Louis doesn’t want to see him right
now. He repeatedly begged Harry through his choked up sobs not to
come after him and Harry will just have to respect that, although it kills
him more than anything to do so.
Harry slides into his car, and as he sinks into the cool leather of the car
seat, he realizes that he has no where to go. He can’t go back to his
house, definitely not. The wounds are still too fresh and he can’t sleep
in a bed that he witnessed his fiancé cheat in. There’s a guest room
downstairs, but who knows if Jesse is really gone or not and Harry
doesn’t have the energy nor the patience to deal with any of that right
now.
He sighs heavily to himself before starting up his car, pulling out onto
the street. In all honestly, there is no way he’ll get any kind of rest
tonight anyway, even if he had somewhere to go, so he might as well
just go back to the hospital. Harry is anxious to be back with his
daughter and he just wants to sit down with Avie until hopefully things
start to make sense again.
Nurse Julie greets him as he walks slowly onto the floor, dragging his
tired feet with each stride. “Harry? Back so soon? Did you get any
rest?”
Harry can only blink at her, if there is one thing he did not get, it’s rest.
He feels more exhausted now than when he initially left. The shock of
discovering the infidelity of his fiancé, the burden of realizing how
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much he affected Louis’ life after he watched him fall apart in his
arms—Harry feels like death.
And knowing how awful he feels inside, Harry imagines he must look
so pathetic and horrid in the nurse’s eyes, but he can’t do a single thing
to hide it and he probably wouldn’t even bother if he could.
Julie’s warm expression morphs from general attentiveness to genuine

worry as she gazes up at him, and suddenly Harry feels arms around
him, pulling him into a hug. “You are going to be ok.” She whispers
soothingly, rubbing his back. “You will get through this.”
Harry closes his eyes, letting himself decompress into the embrace,
letting some of the tension roll from his shoulders. He wishes he could
fully believe that were true, but after all he’s endured, it hardly seems
likely. More like a wistful fairytale of an unattainable dream.
Julie pulls back, still holding on to him as she meets his eyes. “I’m
gonna get you some coffee, ok?”
Harry nods appreciatively, unable to offer any words as he takes in a

deep breath, but Julie seems to understand. She gives his shoulders a
squeeze before turning back towards the station. Harry has to inhale
slowly once more before continuing on to Avery’s room and resuming
his usual position at her bedside. She looks the exact same as how he
left her, still and motionless, and whether that’s a good or bad thing is
confusing.
“Hi Avie, how are you, my little bug?” Harry greets with a saddened
tilt to his broken smile, wishing she could answer his simple question.
Her cheeks would dimple as she beamed back at him and the gold
flecks in her honey colored eyes would sparkle and she’d answer him
with one of those long, hardly used words like, “splendiferous” or
“magnificent”, that are always printed on every cliché good job sticker
that she never fails to find oddly amusing. And he would laugh a bit
because hearing his little second grader say “splendiferous”, through
her missing baby teeth, would be the most adorable, heartwarming
thing.
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But of course, none of that happens and Harry settles down into the
chair near her bed, sighing to himself as his exhausted body seems to
groan along with the framework of the chair. He leans forward, resting
his elbows on his lap as he cradles his head in his hands, scraping his
fingers through his hair.
God, he needs some good news. He needs something

intrinsically good to happen for once, something to keep him going,
keep him upright and standing when so many parts of him are dying
to give up.
Harry lifts his head back up to gaze longingly at his daughter, studying
her beautiful, still somnolent face. “Avery I…I know I tell you this
everyday and I know you don’t have any control over what’s
happening…but I…” He pauses, not even sure what he’s trying to
express. All he knows is that he’s worn himself down to the bare bone
and he really doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. “I
don’t know what else I can promise or what I can say to change
things…I just—I’m so? Lost…” Harry breathes out heavily, letting his
eyes flutter closed. “I’m lost and I’m terrified and…I…I miss you,
sweetheart. I miss you with everything my heart beats for and being
without you is…”
life is hardly worth living without you
He bites down on his lip, attempting to keep himself from crying, but
it seems to be in vain. Trying to ground himself, Harry reaches over to
slip his hand into Avery’s tiny limp hand, wishing with everything left
inside him that she would hold his hand back. He would settle for a
flinch or a flutter, maybe a wiggle of her pinky finger or a twitch of her
thumb. Anything to show some kind of sign that she’s still here with
him, that he isn’t just talking to himself in this cold hospital room.
Harry holds one of his daughter’s hands between both of his, staring
down at it with tears lining the rims of his eyes. He rests his head down
along the bed near her, still holding her hand tightly, praying to anyone
that will listen to just give him something. Harry wants it so bad that
he can almost feel it, he can feel the ghost of her touch, he can almost
505
trick his mind into registering the lightest movement of her hand in
his.
Except it’s…real.
Startled, Harry bolts upright, heart rattling in his chest as he looks

frantically with wide eyes back and forth from his daughter’s hand to
her tranquil face. “A-Avery?” He stutters in disbelief, willing the slight
grip on his hand to not have been a desperate hallucination.
“Avie…can you…can you hear me?”
And it can’t be his imagination that causes Avery’s eyelashes to twitch

ever so slightly, or make her fingertips move once more against the
palm of his hand. It can’t be his mind playing tricks on him when it
happens again, fingers flinching on their own. And it’s not delirium
when he notices her chest rise a bit higher than usual. He’s not
imagining it, he can’t be.
wake up, wake up, wake up
More saltwater prickles at the corners of Harry’s eyes as his heart

trembles with desperate hope. He’s not even breathing anymore, he’s
sure he’s not, breath held in both fear and faith as he stares intently at
his daughter. Harry leans in closer to caress the side of her still face,
cupping his palm softly to her cheek. “Please Munchie…come back to
me, baby.”
And there’s a pause, a long, silent, stretching pause that seems to defy
the laws of time and reality. Harry has never been so hinged on one
single moment, afraid to move, afraid to so much as breathe. But that’s
when it happens, finally after all these discouragingly teary days that
haunted him into never-ending sleepless nights. The slow, unsure flit
of her heavy eyelids gradually pulls at her eyes causing them to crack
open ever so slightly.
“Hi…” Avery croaks, and there is hardly any sound attached at all, her
voice dry from inactivity and dehydration.
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Harry doesn’t know how it’s happening; he doesn’t understand how
it’s possible or why she woke up right when he needed her the most,
but he doesn’t even care. Because it doesn’t matter, none of it matters,
because right now after so long, Avery is awake, his baby girl is finally
awake.
“Oh my god...” Harry gasps outright once the initial shock has begun
to pass. And as he hugs her close his tears start to fall down his cheeks,
but for once they’re happy tears—overjoyed, relieved tears that he
couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Because of all the things Harry
needed, seeing his daughter wake up was at the top of the list, because
if she’s awake then maybe things can start to be ok for once.
“Daddy…you’re…squeezing me…” Avery rasps in weak, inaudible

breaths, eyes still half-lidded.
“Oh, I’m sorry—I’m sorry, Munch.” Harry sits up, not wanting to hurt
her. Although all he wants is to hold her and hug her and squeeze her
and love her. “I’m just—I…I almost…I mean I—you’re awake.”
Harry weeps incoherently, blubbering through his overwhelmed
words. “You’re a-awake and you’re talking and…and—oh Avie, baby,
I missed you so much…I t-thought I might never get to…to…” And
that’s as far as his words will go before he completely breaks down
into emotional sobs, shoulders shaking as he curls in on himself.
So much so, that with all his perpetual tears of joy, Harry hadn’t even
noticed the nurses coming into the room. They all meet Avery with
wide, delighted smiles, genuinely happy to see her cognizant again.
One of the nurses gives Avery a cup of water with a straw to ease the
dryness of her throat, while another works on adjusting her drip,
noting her current output readings and ensuring that’s she’s as
comfortable as can be. Julie tries to calm Harry down, bending down
to give him another hug while reminding him to breathe. She brought
the coffee she promised, setting it down on the bedside table near him.
And on her way out, Julie says something about giving them a minute
to themselves before alerting the doctor on-call to do a complete
assessment and full lab work up. But Harry can hardly stop himself
from crying long enough to thank them properly.
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The room clears out again, leaving Avery and an overly emotional
Harry. She feebly reaches over to rest one of her small hands on his,
tilting her head up slowly towards Harry. She opens her eyes a bit more
before offering him a faint, but wonderfully warm smile.
“I’m ok, Daddy…it’s ok...” Avery tries to comfort him, her voice
slowly returning after finishing the water like her nurse instructed. “I’m
really sorry for scaring you so much…I’ll try not to anymore. I
promise.” Even in her weakened voice, she sounds genuinely
apologetic and even a bit worried that’s she’s done something wrong.
Harry swipes at his eyes, shaking his head at his impossibly sweet baby.
“Oh no, Avie you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, angel. I’m
just so h-happy to have you back with me.” He presses a series of
tearful kisses to her cheeks as he always does, but this time it means so
much more. “I love you…I love you…I love you…” He whispers
repeatedly in between gentle presses of his lips, taking his time so she
knows just how much he means it.
And although she’s still groggy and disoriented, Avery giggles a bit
happily, nuzzling her head towards her father’s touch. “I love you
more.”
“Impossible.” Harry sniffles, smiling down at her softly. How he has

missed the sound of her laugh, the sound of her happy and awake
and alive. Harry traces the side of her face with his fingers, trying to
immortalize the welcomed feeling of unbridled relief that he feels right
now.
“Daddy…how long have I been gone?” Avery wonders quietly. She

glances down at her right arm in confusion, probably wondering why
it’s not still set in a hard cast like it was the last time she was awake.
“Too long, Avie.” Harry whispers, not even wanting to think about it
anymore, so glad that it’s a thing of the past now. “Too long.”
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“And what’d you do without me for all that time?” Avery asks next
and there seems to be a sense of worry in her question. But it touches
Harry’s heart when he realizes that her innocent concern isn’t for
herself at all, but for him.
“Wait for you to come back.”
||☤||
Louis swings his front door open and sighs heavily with the first flutter
of relief he’s felt in hours. “H-Hi…”
“Oh my god...Louis…” Liam breathes deeply, taking one shocked

look at his friend as he stands at the doorway. “You’re…”
“He’s crying…” Zayn essentially gasps in disbelief, completing his

boyfriend’s thought from where he stands at his side.
Louis nods his head weakly, as his tears continue to stream incessantly
down his ruddy cheeks. It’s been three whole hours since he left Harry
out in the forest and he still hasn’t been able to gain control over his
emotions. If anything, it’s only gotten worse. And the more he tried to
calm down, the more hell-bent his body remained, continuing to rebel
against him.
He tried taking a shower, thinking that maybe the falling water would
help wash it all away, but his saltwater tears only mixed with the fresh
water stream of the cascading shower. He tried getting himself to
laugh, turning on the TV and clicking on the very first comedy movie
that Netflix suggested, but it wasn’t funny, nothing is funny right now
and the tears didn’t stop. Benedict tried to console him as best a dog
can, jumping on his lap to lick the salty tears from his face. And when
that didn’t work, he started bringing Louis all of his favorite toys
scattered around the house, as if sharing his little treasures would
somehow cheer Louis up. It was the sweetest thing and it got Louis to
smile because he loves that dog, but it still didn’t get his system to calm
down.
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And Louis didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t even think clearly
enough to stop and figure out what he should do from a medical
perspective, too distraught with countless emotions. This has never
happened to him before; he’s never broken so irreparably like this
before. So he did what most people would do at a time like this and he
called his best friends. Louis doubted if they were even awake at this
time of night, it’s three in the morning after all. If they were awake it’d
probably be for some kind of work-related reason, but by some small
miracle Liam was indeed awake when Louis called him and he didn’t
even need to explain anything before Liam was promising incessantly
that he’d come over right away with Zayn.
Liam exchanges a horribly worried look with Zayn as they stand in the
foyer of Louis’ home, looking uncharacteristically out of depth in this
situation. Liam always knows what to do and what to say, but out of
all the times Louis has relied on his friends for comfort in the past, it’s
never been this bad before, he’s never been this out of control. He’s
never cried, which explains their justified shock and trepidation towards
the situation. And Louis should have called them sooner, he knows he
should have, and he would have—maybe. It’s just that being
vulnerable in front of other people is not something Louis does often
and even now it’s an utterly foreign concept to grasp, but he can’t face
this alone anymore, not when all the demons of his past are free and
uninhibited to haunt his conscious mind as they please.
“I...I c-can’t stop…it won’t s-stop…” Louis sobs hysterically, leaning

over weakly to brace his knees as he attempts to intake any oxygen his
burning lungs can manage. “I haven’t c-cried in…i-in eighteen years
and…and it won’t f-fucking stop—it h-hurts…god—I can’t breathe…I
can’t…I c-can’t…”
“Oh Lou...” Liam outbreaths empathetically as he pulls Louis right

into his arms, figuring the best thing he can do is simply hold his
friend. He crosses his arms tightly across Louis’ back, trying to make
him feel as secure as possible, despite the shivers his body can’t
adequately regulate. “What happened? How long have you been like
this?”
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“I don’t…I d-don’t know—I w-was...I was with H-Harry and he...j-
just…I m-mean we...and I—” Louis’ face splits down the middle.
That’s what’s so awful about this, he’s feeling so many things at once,
he can’t even pinpoint his thoughts, let alone his stuttered words. And
consequently, Louis can only cry inconsolably against Liam’s shoulder,
heartbreakingly overwrought with anguished sorrow. Everything in
him wants to hold it in and hold it back, keep what fragile shreds of
himself he has left, but yet everything is spilling out of him regardless.
“My family is d-dead…they’re all dead…and…a-and I don’t w-want
Avery to die t-too…I d-don’t want to watch her d-die like her m-mum
died—I’ve w-watched too many people d-die...she can’t die too
Li…she c-can’t, she can’t…I l-love her, I love her s-so much…”
i can’t take another loss
“Ok, ok, shh…you’re ok, Lou. You’re ok.” Liam soothes gently, not
wavering his tight grip around Louis’ frame.
When it comes to Avery, Louis continually puts on a brave face as her

doctor, trying to keep hope alive even when times are dark. And over
the last few weeks, he’s tried so hard not to panic Harry with far off,
but potentially threatening realities. Promising a plan to treat her,
promising to find a way out of this dooming situation. But Louis
doesn’t have a plan, he has nothing at all. Nothing but the looming
scans of a growing tumor that scares the living shit out of him, nothing
but the ceaseless prayer that maybe it will defy all logic and
understanding and just disappear into thin air and all of this will just
go away.
“No—I can’t w-watch her d-die—I can’t…I c-can’t…” Louis clutches

Liam’s back in desperation, weeping hysterically.
not her, anything but her
“Make i-it stop…p-please…I d-don’t wanna feel it a-anymore…” Louis

whimpers, eyes squeezed shut with his head buried to Liam’s chest.
He doesn’t want to fight his feelings anymore, but he also wants to be
able to function and fighting them off seems like the only road to
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survival. He knows he shouldn’t have bottled up his emotions for so
long, allowing them to build up to catastrophic, unmanageable levels.
And now being forced to brave the effects of a lifetime of repressed
trauma all at once is killing him inside. All he wants is for it to be over,
so maybe he can start to breathe again, function again. “I…just—i-it
hurts…everything h-hurts…”
It’s scary to not be able to escape his own mind, to be repeatedly faced
with his greatest fears, horrific fears that have already been actualized
into a cruel reality in the past. His fears aren’t irrational in nature, he’s
seen it before, he’s been here before and the notion of having to relive
versions of those experiences yet again is continually turning his entire
world upside down. It’s horrifying to lose yourself, to feel yourself
slipping away from the close guarded reigns of impending sanity. But
perhaps the only way to gain control again is to lose it. Maybe the key
to surviving the effects of loss is simply to lose. Loosen his grip, lose
everything, lose it all and begin to find a semblance of strength in all
that he lacks, in all that he lost.
Zayn moves in closer to wrap his arms around Louis’ trembling frame
from behind, holding him just as securely as Liam. And held up by the
support of his best friends, Louis stops. He stops trying to keep
himself standing upright, stops resisting, stops fighting, relinquishing
that last thread of nearly nonexistent control as he sags into Liam and
Zayn’s significantly stronger arms. The much needed comfort of
human contact and strong pressure against all sides of his body
provides the illusion of safety. It doesn’t feel as innately secure as
Harry’s embrace did out in the meadow, but the encompassing
strength of their hold begins to ground him regardless, tethering him
to one tangible moment instead of the wide range flooding his mind
relentlessly.
Liam and Zayn hold him tightly until the panic settles down, drastically
calming his autonomic nervous system through the basic but effective
mechanism of deep, pressure compression. The stringently enclosed
hold around his sympathetically stimulated body incites the much
needed release of oxytocin, combating the high stress cortisol coursing
through him.
512
“He’s gotta be dehydrated.” Liam whispers to Zayn over Louis’
shoulder, although Louis can obviously hear him. But he’s not wrong,
after all the crying Louis has done, he’s probably wrung his body dry.
That’s the positive side of having doctors for best friends, they think
of everything even when he’s too much of a mess to remember on his
own.
Zayn pulls back a little, moving to the side to look directly at Louis.
“How about some tea? Louis, do you want tea?” He tries softly, hand
on Louis’ back as he rubs his back in slow circles. “Would that help a
little?”
Louis nods faintly, sniffling as he wipes away a few of his settling tears.
A fresh cuppa sounds amazing right now, everything he needs to begin
soothing his aching soul.
Zayn offers him a gentle, encouraging smile. “Ok, babe. I’ll make it for
you.”
While Zayn sets about Louis’ kitchen to prepare a pot of tea, Liam
guides Louis over to the living room couch to sit down. And three and
a half cups of tea later, Louis feels better than he has in hours, calmer
than he has is hours, tears ceased and breathing reassured. He has both
hands curled around a warm mug that never seems to run dry as long
as Zayn is around and he sits comfortably cross-legged on the couch.
There’s a box of tissues strategically placed in his lap by Liam, while a
thick blanket swaddles his shoulders, also Liam’s handiwork. His
friends sit on either side of him, cocooning him with their arms from
what feels like every angle, and Louis kind of wants to laugh because
his thoughtful, caring friends are treating him like he’s their injured
child or something. And although ordinarily Louis would probably
hate that, he’s so appreciative of Liam and Zayn’s efforts tonight.
Everyone needs friends like them in life.
“Well who knew tea would actually sedate you?” Zayn smiles softly,
teasing only a bit.
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Louis probably should have thought of making himself tea earlier and
maybe if his body wasn’t so stressed out, he would have. Not only is
he a natural lover of tea, but as a science nerd, Louis knows that certain
teas contain L-Theanine, an amino acid proven to decrease tension,
lower anxiety and promote relaxation, acting like a soporific agent. It’s
no real wonder why he’s finally so calm now.
Louis offers a small grin, sniffling. “Next time you should just sedate
me for real. Stab me in the ass with a horse tranquilizer or something.”
Liam chuckles, shaking his head. “And kill you? Never.”
Louis laughs a little, dropping his head down on Liam’s shoulder while
taking Zayn’s closest hand in his. He can’t even begin to express how
utterly grateful he is to his friends. For all that he teases them or hides
himself away from them at times, they really never stop having his back
and Louis will always be thankful to them for that. “Thank you both
for coming over so late…I’m uh…I’m really sorry I’ve been such a
mess lately…I’m—”
“Oh shh, Louis. Shh, stop.” Liam brushes off instantly, head leaned
down on top of Louis’. “You have a lot going on and we get that.
Really, we do. I only wish that we could somehow fix it for you. But
no matter what, we’ll always be here for you, you know that. And the
same goes for Niall even though he’s probably asleep.”
“Yeah, we all love you and that will never change. You’re stuck with
us forever.” Zayn gives Louis’ fingers a squeeze. “And besides, we had
no excuse not to show up…we were already up anyway.” He smirks
with a suggestive wink that is in no way subtle.
“I didn’t need to know that last part.” Louis frowns, rolling his eyes.
Although he’s not really that bothered. “I don’t know how many times
I need to say that I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“Well you interrupted my sex life with all your problems, so too bad.
Deal with it.” Zayn says back jokingly, smile widening.
514
“Asshole.” Louis laughs again, whacking Zayn’s knee playfully. But his
laugh dies out when his pager starts buzzing against the coffee table
he left it on earlier. He picks it up, staring down at the succinct message
on the screen.
“You’re not on-call tonight, are you?” Liam questions in concern,

giving Louis a disapproving look. “Because I really don’t think you
should go in right now, Louis.”
“Yeah Lou, let someone else handle it.” Zayn agrees, also picking up
the same echoes of worry in his tone, but doing a better job at masking
it.
He isn’t on-call tonight, but that doesn’t matter at all when he reads
over the message. “It’s Avery.” Louis sits up instantly in alert, entire
body going stiff. He rereads the words over and over trying to get his
muddled brain to make sense of them. The page is maddeningly brief
and gives hardly any information whatsoever. All he knows is that
whatever the true nature of the page, it concerns Avery. And if it’s
about her, there isn’t a question of whether he is going or not.
“Louis, but—”
“No, no I have to go.” Louis insists, swiping at his irritably red eyes,
already untangling himself from the couch to stand on his feet. He
doesn’t care how awful he still feels or how physically and emotionally
tired his entire body is, if it has anything to do with Avery, nothing will
stop him from being there.
||☤||
When Louis gets to the hospital, he changes himself into a pair of

scrubs in record time. His eyes burn so bad from crying all night that
he can’t even wear his contacts. Which maybe is for the best because
at least the frames of his glasses marginally mask the heavy bags and
puffy redness under his eyes. And if it really came down to it, Louis
won’t hesitate to blame it all on allergy season.
515
He doesn’t bother stopping at the nurses’ station when he gets to his
floor, instead heading straight to Avery’s room only to find it
unsettlingly empty. And that’s not normal, not for a patient that is
supposed to still be in a comatose state. The page he received didn’t
specify anything about this and he is already unhinged enough as it is.
Unexpected uncertainty immediately sends the sharpest pang of dread
right through Louis’ veins, chilling him to his core.
deep breaths, just take deep breaths
There are plenty of logical reasons as to why she might not be in her
room, plenty of sound, medical reasons that have no explicitly negative
connotations attached. But the only one Louis’ exhausted and stressed
mind can dwell on is the worst possible scenario. All he can rationalize
is that maybe she started coding because the shunt he placed a few
weeks ago failed, causing her to seize again while he was away and then
she could’ve—no. No, he is not going to think like that, all he needs
to do is find the charge nurse and ask for a debrief.
And that is exactly what Louis does. On shaky legs and an unsteady
frame of mind, Louis makes his way to the centrally located nurses’
station.
“Morning, Dr. Tomlinson.” The charge nurse behind the desk greets,
sipping on a cup of coffee.
“Erm hi—morning, yeah um…where is Avery Styles?” Louis asks,

trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice. “Why isn’t she in her
room?”
“Oh…you haven’t heard? She woke up last night!” The nurse gushes
happily with a wide smile.
“She’s…s-she’s awake…” Louis gasps in disbelief, eyes widening

behind the frames of his glasses. And just hearing that alone makes
him want to cry again, makes him want to fall down and weep in a
curled up ball on the floor. The tension he was holding in his shoulders
516
dissipates as an unexpected relief floods his body with such sudden
urgency that he almost feels weak and even a bit lightheaded.
“Yes, she woke up a few hours ago. No deficits as of yet. But she’s
down in radiology right now because Dr. Jones ordered—”
“Jones?!” Louis blurts as his auditory cortex kicks back in and he starts
to register what the nurse is saying to him. His momentary bubble of
peace and thanksgiving is cut short and suddenly he realizes that he
has far more questions buzzing through his head than he has answers.
“And why wasn’t I paged earlier?”
“Well, protocol only requires notification of the primary physician on

the patient’s case and since that’s not you anymore and you also
weren’t on-call, Dr. Jones said not to page you.” The nurse explains.
“I’m sorry Dr. Tomlinson, I was only following Dr. Jones’
instructions.”
It’s not the nurse’s fault, Louis knows it’s not. And he would never
place blame or direct his rising anger towards the situation at her. But
still Louis’ head reels, Avery woke up, after weeks of waiting and hoping
she finally broke free from the prison her body held her captive in and
even though she’s originally been his patient from the start, Louis
didn’t get so much as a notification. It’s just like Dr. Jones to run his
own program even though Louis specifically talked to him about this
weeks ago when he was first assigned primary status on Avery’s case.
Louis thanks the nurse briefly before barreling down the corridor in
search of the one doctor on his staff that never fails to make his blood
boil.
“Dr. Jones!” Louis barks firmly once he finds the man in question,
coming out of the lab with his head bowed down towards the charting
tablet in his grasp.
517
“Oh, hello Dr. Tomlinson.” Dr. Jones greets without looking up from
his tablet, apparently recognizing Louis by the sound of his voice
alone.
“Why the hell didn’t you page me as soon as Avery woke up?” Louis
fumes, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “We talked about
this.”
“You aren’t the primary physician on her case anymore, Dr.

Tomlinson. I am. Chief Aoki did make that clear, correct?” Dr. Jones
shrugs his shoulders casually, flicking his gaze up momentarily. “It’s
not imperative that you be here.”
Louis wants to fire the man on the spot. Jones loves to belittle Louis
at every chance he gets, most likely because he was initially after Louis’
position as Head of Neuro. Becoming a department head at Louis’ age
was no easy feat, but he earned it on his own merit and he does a damn
good job at it, so Jones and his bitter superiority complex can fuck
right off. “Yes, I’m very aware of The Chief’s order, but I’m still on
the case as a secondary consult as we’ve discussed and I’m also your
boss as The Head of this department and I need to be paged and kept
informed about the patients on my floor.”
Dr. Jones narrows his eyes with displeasure, obviously not at all fond
of being reminded of Louis’ higher position over him. “Yes,
well…since you are here, I suppose you may join me in the conference
room as I speak with the patient’s father. But please, no disruptions.
You may technically be my boss, but I’ve been doing this since before
you were born, son. This is my case now and we will do it my way.
Understood?”
Louis scowls, pursing his lips tightly together and resisting the urge to
yell ‘fucking retire old man’ at Jones’ face. After everything that happened
last night with Harry and the exceedingly long and emotional early
morning he’s had, he is in no mood for whatever power trip Dr. Jones
is on. Louis absolutely hates to be demeaned and Jones pisses him off
just by simply existing on the O.R. board.
518
“Fine.” Louis grits through his teeth, plastering on the fakest of smiles.
“Lead the way, Pops.” He stresses purposely, matching Jones’ earlier
‘son’ statement, which had not gone unnoticed or been appreciated in
any way.
“The patient’s father is waiting in conference room two.” Dr. Jones

gestures down the hall, gathering his charts and notes before walking
towards the private room, Louis following behind.
Louis hopes Harry doesn’t think he requested to be off the case after
what happened last night. They never properly discussed the change
in lead physician since Avery’s case was temporarily non-surgical while
she was unconscious. No matter what ever went on between them
personally, Louis would always fight to stay on the case. He would
suck it up and shove it down for Avery’s well being. Avery is his
number one priority right now.
When they walk into the room, Harry stands to greet them, seeming
to deliberate whether to meet Louis’ eyes or not as he tugs slightly on
his lip. But Louis can’t seem to stop staring at him, just wondering
what is going on in Harry’s mind right now. It must be so
overwhelming to have Avery awake again, especially considering the
rollercoaster he’s been through with her already. A quick scan around
the room and Louis notices that Jesse isn’t present—no surprise there.
If he wasn’t here when Avery fell into a coma in the first place, he
certainly wouldn’t show up when she came out of it. And Louis
wonders how Harry is coping with all that, forced to deal with
everything on his own with a failed, unreliable support system. Dr.
Jones is utterly oblivious to the tension between them and Louis
wishes that the old man wasn’t here so he and Harry could drop all
pretenses and talk freely.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Jones.” He extends his hand out to Harry politely,
giving him a practiced smile. “I’ll be the new lead surgeon on your
daughter’s case.”
“Erm…hi…lovely to meet you…” Harry slowly takes his offered

hand for a shake, but a million different confused questions pass over
519
his face in hesitant waves. He glances unsurely towards Louis, still by
the door, looking for answers. “But what about Lo—Dr. Tomlinson?
Is he still…uh—”
“I’ll be here.” Louis rushes to say, meeting Harry’s eyes meaningfully.

“I’m not leaving. I’m still here, I promise.” He tries his best to reassure
Harry with his tone and open eyes, but Louis still registers the doubt
portrayed in the frown of Harry’s brow.
“Yes, well…at this stage, it is just in your best interest to have another
opinion.” Dr. Jones answers diplomatically.
Louis rolls his eyes automatically, trying not to sigh outright. Dr. Jones
knows good and well that Louis doesn’t give two fucks about his
ancient ass opinion. The only reason he’s here is because Louis lost his
cool and failed to act rationally, not because Jones has anything
substantial to offer medically. Especially nothing new.
“Oh um ok…I guess...” Harry nods slowly, gaze still lingering on

Louis as they all begin to sit down at the conference table.
“Alright, let’s get to it then.” Dr. Jones claps his hands together,
leaning over the table. “So according to your daughter’s most recent
labs, the shunt Dr. Tomlinson placed in surgery is holding very well
and the CSF buildup has been completely relieved. A physical
assessment has shown that Avery has suffered no physical or cognitive
deficits thus far, and activities are functional.”
Harry exhales shakily with relief, smiling slowly with hope. It’s a smile
Louis hasn’t seen on him in so long and it’s so refreshing to see, almost
infectious. He deserves to have a bit of encouraging news for once.
“And although that is all positive, it doesn’t alleviate the real issue
here.” Dr. Jones continues, shaking his head gloomily. “Avery is still
terminally sick—”
520
“What my…colleague means is that it’s going to take innovation and
determination to treat Avery properly.” Louis clarifies, totally
unappreciative of the wet blanket approach Jones is taking. “Her
tumor is out of the scope of simple surgery, but that doesn’t mean it’s
over—”
“Well, I believe we need to remain realistic.” Jones argues, speaking

over Louis. “Yes, Avery is awake, but the reality is there is still no
proposed method of treating her. The fact of the matter is, the mass
in her brain will kill her.” He informs harshly, showing no signs that
he ever learned or even remembers decent bedside manner. “We can
expect that as time goes on, many side effects will overtake the quality
of her life as her body deteriorates. There could be anything from
partial paralysis to varying changes in temperament, loss of basic
senses—sight or hearing or even touch; as well as constant nausea and
high fevers, not to mention the acute headaches.”
Harry’s face falls instantly. The hopeful smile he just had, completely
vanquished from his face, replaced with crippling worry and
devastating fear. And Louis hates it more than anything, wanting to
meet Harry on the other side of the table just to hold him tightly in his
arms.
“We can schedule another round of chemotherapy, but at this time

that is the most we can do for her and we don’t foresee the plan of
treatment making any drastic changes.” Dr. Jones continues, hardly
batting an eyelash.
Harry looks absolutely distraught, mouth held slightly open in shock

as his eyes remain widened and Louis wonders if he is even breathing.
The more upset Harry looks, the angrier Louis gets at how Jones is
presenting the situation.
“At this rate, Avery has, at best, 4 months to live. Probably less.” Dr.
Jones informs frankly, not bothering to soften the blow. “Realistically,
you should prepare yourself for the worst.”
521
Louis nearly snaps his charting tablet in half at the blunt and rude
words of his associate. There was not a single ounce of empathy in his
statement, not even a speck of compassion. And Louis knows that he
won’t be able to bite his tongue if he stays seated any longer, so he
leaves, pushing his chair back angrily as he storms out of the room,
slamming the chart down hard on the counter of the nurses’ station
outside.
It only takes several moments for Dr. Jones to follow him out, strolling
up to Louis in question. “Dr. Tomlinson, do you have a problem I’m
not aware of?”
“Yes, you.” Louis snaps in irritation, whirling around to face Dr. Jones.
“Why did you have to tear him down like that? Was it really
necessary?”
“We always give the patient’s family all of the information. That is
protocol.” Dr. Jones persists, expression affronted. “You know this.”
“No, that was not protocol, that was just cruel!” Louis argues
adamantly, body tensing up. There are so many better ways to explain
an awful situation, ways that let someone know that there are people
who care about them and their loved one, ways to make them still feel
safe even when faced with the impossible. “Like the miracle she is,
Avery woke up with no cognitive deficits or impairments. That was
the only bit of hope Harry has heard in weeks and you crushed it. Just
like that, you crushed it.”
“Her father needed to know. It’s best to be realistic about all the
potential outcomes from the very beginning.”
“He does know! Believe me, he does! Do you think that for one second
he isn’t aware of the fact that his daughter is dying!? He is living it!
Everyday he wakes up and he knows! It’s happening right before his
own eyes!” Louis yells irately as his agitation gets the best of him. “He
deserved to just enjoy a bit of good news for once, relish in the fact
that she’s awake! That for right now, she’s alive and stable and you
fucking destroyed that.”
522
“Dr. Tomlinson!” Dr. Jones hisses, appalled at the use of profanity.
“Look, I don’t want to report you to The Chief, but you are obviously
way too close to this patient and completely out of line. I know
technically you’re my superior as Head of Neurosurgery and
apparently some kind of wiz kid, but in my day, hot shot doctors found
themselves drowning in malpractice suits—”
“Well, we aren’t in your day anymore, Dr. Jones. Thank fuck! Here in
today’s world, we don’t just throw in the goddamn towel at the first
sign of struggle. You may think I’m young and arrogant, but I care
about my patients and I believe they deserve more from me than an
‘I’m sorry, there is nothing more I can do, prepare to die’ attitude.”
Louis continues, voice growing in ferocity. “There is always something
I can do and I’m not going to stop until I figure it out. That is my job
as her doctor. To keep hope alive in my patients.”
“Hope is a fragile thing to promise.” Dr. Jones warns, eyes narrowed.
“Yes, but also a powerful tool for the impossible to be made possible.”
Louis responds, head held high. “And I’m not going to let hope die
just because it’s the easy way out. I’m sorry that you lack the capacity
to understand that.”
“A line has to be drawn.” Dr. Jones argues, shaking his head in

frustration. “Some things are beyond your control and you need to
accept that.”
“If that defeatist attitude is how you choose to practice medicine, I

suggest you finally do everyone, especially me, a favor and bloody
retire.” Louis huffs, long past the point where he gave a shit. “You lack
imagination, you lack scope and depth of practice, relying only on
seniority and outdated methodology to carry you along. But if you
continue to refuse to get with the times, I highly suggest you go while
you still have some credibility left.”
Dr. Jones gasps in dismay, jaw dropping as he promptly spins on his

heel to storm off down the hall. “Never in all my years have I ever—
523
ugh! The nerve of that young man!” Dr. Jones rambles to himself
angrily, impossibly flustered.
His little outburst is probably going to come right back to bite Louis
in the ass, but it was absolutely worth it. Louis is hardly sorry for his
words, after all, someone had to say it. Dr. Jones deserved every piece
of Louis’ mind, and hopefully he won’t ever forget it.
||✚||
Harry sits alone in the conference room for a moment, just trying to
sort out his thoughts. Even though it’s nothing that he didn’t already
know on some level, what Dr. Jones said really hit him. The thought
of only having mere months left with Avery is not only horrifying, but
completely shocking. He at least thought that they’d have more time
together—yes, he’s always understood that the type of tumor Avery
has is aggressive, but still it’s never been more real to him than right
now.
Harry takes a deep, centering breath, shaking his head to clear his
thoughts and return his mind back to the positive. He forces his
attention back to a few hours ago, when Avery first woke up and how
in that moment nothing else mattered, in that one passing moment
everything felt at peace. He just wants to hold onto that feeling, recycle
it and reprocess it through his darkening thoughts in order to help him
even try to cope with the uncertain realities looming over him.
Right now Avery is alive and awake and already talking and laughing
like her old self and that’s far more than yesterday, that’s everything. If
the shunt has bought her a bit more time, if it eases her pain for at
least a little while longer, then all Harry can do now is focus on the
good in that and take each and every day one moment at a time.
Stepping out of the conference room, hoping to keep his fleetingly

positive outlook in tact, Harry collides instantly with Louis in the
hallway.
524
“Shit Harry, I’m sorry. Sorry—sorry.” Louis repeats, righting himself.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s ok. It’s ok. I ran into you, it’s my bad.” Harry rushes to say,
trying not to spook Louis away. The air between them is odd,
everything that was left unsaid the previous night hanging thickly in
the air.
“I mean um…I’m not just sorry for this erm—bumping into you…I
mean—I am sorry for this…too…I guess…uh but um—god! What
the fuck?” Louis scrubs a hand over his face, obviously exceedingly
frustrated with himself and his fumbling words. He pinches his brow
trying to refocus his thoughts. “I’m just…sorry.”
Harry’s face softens as he reaches out, placing a reassuring hand lightly

to Louis’ waist. “Louis, you don’t need to apologize—”
“No, no, see, but I do.” Louis pointedly slides out of Harry’s touch,
keeping a maintained distance between them. “Dr. Jones was
completely out of line and he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.
He can be so out of touch when it comes to handling cases like these
and as he’s one of my staff, I’m really sorry for what happened in
there.” He apologizes in a more professional cadence, before growing
skittish and anxious once again, lowing his gaze down to his shoes.
“Also…about last night…I um I didn’t mean to um…unload all that
on you. You have so much going on right now—so much, and uh…I
know I probably made things a lot worse by fucking breaking down
on you like that so…I’m sorry, yeah...”
Harry frowns, already beginning to shake his head. How can Louis
possibly think that? After what Harry put him through by up and
leaving all those years ago, if anyone should be apologizing, it’s Harry.
“What? No, Louis that’s not it. I’m…I mean I can’t believe you shared
that with me—I know it couldn’t have been easy to talk about and you
didn’t have to tell me—”
525
“And I shouldn’t have obviously, cuz it just made me…or—I mean it
reminded me about other things…about you—about us and I don’t
um…I…”
What Louis did was brave, that’s the only way it could ever be classified
in Harry’s mind. Opening himself up, allowing himself to be
inexplicably vulnerable despite the inherit risk; that takes a level of
bravery that not everyone possesses. A bravery Harry desperately
wishes he knew how to house within himself so that he could boldly
use this moment to tell Louis exactly how he feels about him. Harry
doesn’t understand why Louis is suddenly so apologetic about last
night, why he feels like he crossed some sort of invisible line and why
he’s attempting to build more unnecessary walls between them again.
Especially when they've just gone through such great lengths to begin
tearing a few of them down.
And then Harry realizes it—or him, actually—the reason why Louis
must be so adamantly maintaining his distance.
Jesse.
Harry knows of the animosity that lies between Louis and his ex-
fiancé, he’s sensed it on more than one occasion, and it’s more than
justified. And because of the person Louis is, he’d never try to wedge
himself between what he thinks Harry still has with Jesse, consequently
leading to the current rising amounts of tension displaced between
them.
Louis has not the slightest idea that his relationship with Jesse is over
because with all that happened the night before, Harry never had a
chance to tell him. And to be perfectly honest, Harry really didn’t know
how to bring it up to Louis, unable to force out the jumbled words
dangling off the tip of his tongue. Or perhaps, at the true heart of it
all, Harry was actually just scared, so fucking scared. And even now he
still feels the unnerving effects of uncertainty; only because there’s no
way to know how telling the truth might change things, there’s no way
to prepare for what this could potentially mean for them.
526
But prepared or not, Harry knows that he needs to tell Louis about
Jesse. Maybe it’ll change something, maybe it won’t change a thing, but
Louis deserves to know the real truth about them. Harry would never
expect Louis to forgive him right away, if at all, but he so desperately
hopes that he will. Even if they have to start all the way back at square
one, it’s still a start somewhere.
So Harry inhales once more through his nose and he steels himself up
to say his next words. “Look Louis, Jesse and I—”
“Awh fuck.” Louis hisses to himself, squeezing his eyes for a moment
as though embarrassed. “I know you’re engaged Harry, I know, I get
it, you don’t have to remind me. I won’t get in the way of your
relationship with your fiancé. And I’ll apologize to Jesse too, if it
helps...I dunno…”
“No—that’s not necessary at all.” Harry shakes his head, closing some
of the distance between them for the second time. And once again
Harry wishes that a bravery he can’t seem to find within himself would
suddenly take hold of him. Stop him from overthinking things and
force him to say what he needs to say. Every unneeded apology out of
Louis’ mouth, makes Harry feel even more shitty than he already feels.
Louis has nothing to be sorry for. Harry broke his heart, smashed it
into unrecognizable pieces and left him to try and piece himself back
together on his own. But how could he, when everywhere Louis
looked he was automatically reminded of that same shattering
heartbreak. Being expected to function, to live, to continue to meet
the expectations of his highly competitive career, under that amount
of emotional pressure is unbelievable. And Harry knows he should be
the one sputtering out apologies, screaming about how sorry he is for
the rest of his life.
“We already don’t get along as it is—he doesn’t trust me and even
though nothing happened, he’s probably going to give you shit for just
being with me last night…” Louis goes on, lowering his head down.
God, why the hell can’t Harry just shut Louis up? Shake him by the
shoulders and stop him from apologizing any more. Be that person
527
that boldly interrupts his pointless apologies with a kiss, cupping his
hands to Louis’ cheeks, pulling his face to his own and silencing him
with his lips.
If he were braver, if he were bolder, if he could find it within himself

to throw every last caution to the wind, then it wouldn’t stop there.
Harry would profess the countless apologies burning at the forefront
of his brain, he would say everything outright, in spirit and in truth and
everything in between.
i’m sorry for leaving you when i knew i loved you…
“And I can’t even blame him for not trusting me—he’s right after all.
You were never just a friend to me…we weren’t nothing to each other
back then…” Louis admits quietly, still talking down to the floor. “You
probably know by now that I’m not the biggest fan of your fiancé, but
in his defense…I can see how he feels a bit misplaced when it comes
to me and you so uh…”
i’m sorry for making you feel alone when you needed me most…
“If he makes you happy, then I’m…I’m happy for you.” Louis
continues, having not looked up at Harry once in all this time. “Last
night, I…I don’t know? I overshared, I think, yeah…and I never dealt
with my feelings properly so they...erm got out of control. But
um…I’m trying now. Really, I am. So…um—it won’t happen again.”
i’m sorry for breaking your heart when it was already broken…
Louis runs another hand through his hair before adjusting the frames
of his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Anyway…I’m just really sorry
if I made you uncomfortable or anything like that, because that was
never my intention…”
i’m sorry, i’m sorry i’m so, so sorry…
528
Why isn’t this easier? And why is he so scared? What the fuck is wrong
with him? Why can’t he just say the words branded permanently on
his heart? It takes Harry a moment to draw up any sort of answer to
his own question, but when he really thinks about it…the answer is
quite simple after all.
Because Louis means more to him. Louis has always meant so much
more to him. He means everything and Harry doesn’t want to burden
him any more than he already has. Ever since he met Louis, he’s been
dumping his life’s problems on him and he’s done so much damage
that all could have been avoided. And he feels…guilty.
If last night proved anything, it’s that Harry hurt Louis in seemingly
irreparable ways and he needs space to heal. Louis deserves distance
to process his emotions and Harry can’t begin to justify putting him
through this again. Not when he’s hardly even sure he can handle it
himself.
“So…can we just put all this behind us?” Louis concludes in a quiet
and distant voice, slowly meeting Harry’s eyes again.
Maybe letting Louis think he’s still with Jesse is good for him, maybe
it's how it's supposed to be. Maybe he’s been trying to keep Louis,
when Louis was never meant to be his, maybe all he can ever bring to
Louis’ life is pain. Maybe Harry should be a fucking adult for once and
let him go. He had his chance with Louis, he had it and he fucked it
up. How can he possibly expect Louis to take him back now, to forgive
all he’s done? Louis deserves the chance to finally move on and learn
to breathe again and there’s no way he can ever do that with Harry.
“Um…o-ok. Ok...” Harry stutters out finally, heart not matching the
words leaving his lips. Never has Harry felt so much, but stayed so
regrettably silent. Never has he had so much he wants to say, needs to
say, but instead said so little. He can’t let Louis go, but he also doesn’t
know if it’s right to ask him to stay. How to make Louis want him as
badly as Harry wants him.
529
“Ok…” Louis answers slowly, eyes still trained on Harry, locked on
him for some undisclosed reason, as though he is held as a prisoner of
time. Harry tells himself that maybe Louis is still looking at him for a
reason. He tells himself that maybe with his charged, wordless gaze,
Louis is silently asking Harry for a reason to stay. A reason to take back
all he just said.
But then Louis lowers his head and Harry senses that he’s about to
walk away. And Harry tries to stick to his resolution of letting Louis
go but—no, this is stupid. It’s stupid, right? Louis is the love of his life
and he knows it, Harry knows it and he feels it every single time Louis
so much as glances his way, he’s continually overwhelmed by the
feelings he has for the beautiful person standing right in front of him.
Every day that he's been back in Seattle, Harry has fallen further out
of love with Jesse and deeper in love with Louis until Louis became
the only man he could think about. Harry should just tell Louis, suck
it up and tell him exactly how he feels. Why hold it back any longer?
Harry wants to protect Louis, but he’s a grown man and he should
have the choice to decide how much he can handle; if he can forgive
Harry, if it’s worth a shot to try something between them or not. Then
at least Harry can say that he told him, that he was honest, and that he
tried.
Harry opens his mouth to refute his previous statement, taking a step
closer. “Actually, Louis wait…”
just say it
“Yes?” Louis lifts his head back up and their eyes lock again with all
the strength of polar charged magnets.
Gazing at Louis’ brilliantly blue eyes, Harry feels the compelling urge
to blurt out everything he’s ever felt for this man in one breath. And
he’s about to do it, Harry swears on everything he’s ever loved that he
really is about to spill his entire soul to Louis. But then Harry once
again hears Louis’ parting words from the night before, ringing angrily
and hauntingly in his ears.
530
don’t harry…just don’t…
Harry’s mouth is as dry as dust, tongue feeling akin to sandpaper as he

gazes at Louis longingly, feeling more confliction than he’s ever felt in
his life. Louis’ eyes are momentarily unguarded and earnest and Harry
swears he sees specks of hope entwined among the many unanswered
questions rimmed in his weary eyes. And Harry absolutely hates
himself for not being a bigger man about this, a better man, allowing
fear and uncertainty to overtake any gust of determination he had
inside. But at the heart of it, all Harry wants now is for Louis to be ok
and to be happy and he just doesn’t know if that equates to them being
together right now. And if it doesn’t, Harry is going to be ok with that,
because Louis’ well-being matters more to him than his own. “Um…I
mean…I—”
And maybe it was ill-fated luck that caused Louis’ pager to start
beeping, maybe it was doomed providence that tore Louis’ strong gaze
from Harry, dissipating their unspoken connection into nonexistent
waters. Like the precise snapping of fingers, a trance broken and a
moment lost.
Louis blinks, looking down as he fumbles around the pockets of his

white coat awkwardly, patting himself down in search of his ringing
pager.
“Uh…ok...” Louis nods to himself, standing up a little straighter and

meeting Harry’s eyes again briefly, completely refocused and no longer
unguarded. Whatever question was laced in his irises is long gone and
everything about him is shielded yet again. “Ok.” He says again, this
time sounding far more determined as he starts to walk away.
And the worst part is, Harry lets him walk away.
Again.
||☤||
531
After being pulled into surgery unexpectedly—not that unexpectedly,
it’s part of the job after all, Louis knows he needs to go home and try
to get some rest. Somehow it’s nearly two in the morning once again
and running on no hours of sleep, three cups of coffee, and a host of
emotional fumes is no way to properly practice medicine. But it
wouldn’t be the first time nor will it be the last, Louis is sure.
It was good though, to operate and put his hands to good use. Allowed
him to shut down for a little while, focus on something other than the
utter disaster that is his life at the current moment. He is exhausted in
more than one sense, but as he stands at the nurses’ station, reporting
the last of his post-op notes for the day, he realizes that he still hasn’t
even seen Avery yet.
He’s been pulled from one place to another all day and although his
mind functioned on a decently professional level, his heart was with
her, always with her. And Louis could have made concessions for
himself, called off sick or pushed his pages and patients onto someone
else just so he could be with her, but he didn’t. Not because he didn’t
want to, never that, but because he’s spent the entire day convincing
himself that he’s doing it for the best.
As he has been reminded several times today, Louis is no longer her

primary doctor. Meaning that his only legitimate tie to her is far less
valid than it once was. Of course Louis knows he could still visit her
without a medical basis, he isn’t so sure if he should at this point. For
the sake of his own fleeting sanity, he has no choice but to distance
himself from Harry. And distancing himself from Harry by association
also means distancing himself from Avery.
But he hates it, Louis hates even the idea of it. Going this long,
knowing that she’s conscious and that she’s only a hairsbreadth away
from where he currently stands and not dropping everything to run
over to see her, is the hardest test of restraint Louis has ever managed.
But in the long run, this is what’s best for everyone—at least that’s
what he’s going to keep telling himself to make it through the passing
days.
532
It’s all for the best…even when it’s just not.
Louis fidgets with himself, glancing down at his watch for the fifth
time in three minutes to once again confirm the time he already knows.
He tries to go back to his notes, anxiously tapping his pen against the
counter until he forsakes it all together, dropping the pen down. He
can’t stop thinking about Avery, battling an internal tug-of-war with
himself about what he should do.
i should go see her…
Louis glances around the halls, it’s nearly a ghost town around this
time of night, only a few lingering on-call staff lurking around the halls
waiting to be needed in some capacity. Maybe he can just see her, not
talk to her or interact, just walk by her room briefly. She’s probably
asleep anyway and it’s not like he’s talking about barging into her room
unannounced to wake her up. Simply seeing her would be enough,
seeing her and knowing that she’s no longer in a cataleptic state, that
even though she’s asleep right now it’s no longer permanent, she’s free
to move and live at will.
i need to see her…
Louis knows what he promised himself, he knows the reason and the
rationale behind it, but at the same time he’s also missed Avery so
much more than he can articulate and seeing her at a distance is
absolutely harmless.
“Fuck it.” Louis mumbles to himself decisively, pocketing his pen and
mini notepad before placing his charting tablet back on the charging
deck.
Still dressed in his open surgical gown and cap from his previous
surgery, Louis makes his way over to Avery’s room. He’s quiet about
it of course, not wanting to wake her up or any of the other patients
on the floor, for that matter. But it doesn’t quite make much difference
533
in Avery’s case because it seems as though she’s already wide awake,
almost like she was waiting for him or something.
“Louis!” Avery calls excitedly from her bed, spotting him the second
he passes by her room. “I knew you would come see me!”
Louis peeks his head into the room with a small, growing grin on his
face, offering her a little wave. “What are you doing awake?” He
whispers curiously from the doorway.
Part of him is beyond glad that she hasn’t gone to sleep yet. There
aren’t words to describe how good it feels to see her conscious again.
To see that beautiful dimpled smile, that he loves so much, lighting up
her whole face in such heart-stopping ways. And with how bright and
cheerful she is, Louis can almost trick himself into forgetting that she
is even sick. Which is so much like how her mother was, always in
good spirits up until the very end.
Avery gives him a knowing look, smile as vivid and brilliant as ever.
“Well I think I’ve slept enough recently, don’t you?”
Louis can’t help but widen his already broad grin at her; he’s missed her.
He has missed that understated spark of nine-year-old sassiness that
Avery never fails to deliver.
“And besides, I’m waiting for my Daddy to get back with my fries.”
Avery continues. “We were watching a movie, but I really, really,
really, reeaallyy wanted fries all of a sudden and he promised to get them
for me.”
Louis hadn’t even thought about what he would have said to Harry if
he was here, he’d hardly thought of much of anything before marching
himself over here. But still, now that he's in the room, Louis did begin
to wonder where Harry was, it’s always been rare for him to leave
Avery’s side, probably even more so now that she’s awake again. But
it’s just like him to go out in the middle of the night only to satisfy his
daughter’s random midnight munchies.
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“That’s quite a lot of really’s for one sentence.” Louis notes, still
smiling warmly.
“Nope.” Avery disagrees with a small shake. “It’s just the right amount
of really’s.”
“If you say so.” Louis laughs a little, toying with the open tie of his
gown nervously. “Um…anyway...I just wanted to stop by and say hi—
”
“Come in! Come in!” Avery beckons excitedly, using all her strength
to sit up in her bed as she gestures her hands animatedly. “Come talk
to me!”
“Well...uh...I can’t right now.” Louis answers slowly, still stationed at

the doorway.
With that Avery’s entire face falls and Louis’ heart falls right along with
it. “Why not?”
Louis scratches the back of his neck, attempting to avoid constant eye
contact. “I…just…I’ve got to do...um…things and I…”
“Louis, please.” Avery begs gently, her eyes impossibly warm. “It feels
like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
it’s been forever for me too, love
Louis stays quiet, feeling his resolve crumbling right before his eyes.
He feels the exact same way she does and it’s torturous to hold himself
back. It feels stupid now, pointless to try and distance himself from
her as he planned. He should know better from when he tried to do
the same thing months back at their first meeting. Louis was powerless
then and he’s even more powerless now, he could never keep himself
away from Avery no matter how much he tries to rationalize it to
himself.
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“Pretty please.” Avery pouts, poking her bottom lip out pitifully.
“Louis, I really, really, really, reeaallyy miss you.”
you have no idea how much i’ve missed you
“Ok.” Louis concedes slowly, giving her another small smile. “But only
for a little bit.”
Avery’s expression splits back into her gorgeous, dimpled smile and
Louis is so drawn to her. Just being around her lifts his spirits, causing
him to yet again question how he ever thought he could avoid her. She
pats his usual spot on her bed, motioning for him to sit by her.
The second Louis sits down, Avery throws her small arms around his
neck, burying her face against his chest to greet him properly. “Hi
Louis!”
“Hi Aves.” Louis smiles fondly, lifting his arms to hug her back and as
he holds her to his chest, his whole body seems to radiate with a
sudden warmth he hasn’t felt in awhile. And it’s the most purifying
sensation, like for that one moment, all of his aching wounds are
miraculously mended.
Avery lifts her head to look up at him. “I’ve never seen you wear
glasses before.”
“Like them?” Louis wonders, knowing that she loves to give approval
on any and all fashion choices.
She pauses for a moment, squinting her eyes as she apparently takes in
Louis’ new look. “Hmm…yeah, I think so.” Avery decides, moving
her head around to study his face from different angles and Louis can’t
hold back his amused laughter. “It goes with the rest of your doctor
outfit.”
“What a relief!” Louis sighs dramatically, placing a hand to his chest.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t approve.”
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Avery giggles, beaming up at him. “Oh! Before I forget, I wanted to
make sure that I tell you thank you for my gift.” She offers her wrist
to him, proudly showing off the gold, charmed bracelet Louis’ gave
her for her birthday. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I
never ever wanna take it off.”
“Oh, you’re very welcome, little love. I’m glad you like it.” Louis holds
her extended hand for a moment. “I think it looks even more beautiful
on you.”
Avery beams again at that, gazing admiringly at the gold bracelet. “I

love it, especially this charm.” She points to the locket inscribed with
her nickname, which holds the first ever picture taken of the two of
them. “It’s like I’ll always have a little piece of you with me…” Avery
looks down at it again in quiet awe. “Now I have to give you something
too. Then you’ll have a piece of me to always have with you.”
Louis’ heart melts for the millionth time since setting foot in this room.
“That’s very sweet, Aves but you don’t have to do that.”
“But I want to.” Avery insists adamantly. “I don’t know what it’ll be
yet, but it’ll be a surprise. A really, really, really, reeaally good surprise.”
“Well I’m sure that whatever it is, I’ll love it.”
“Louis, will you come to my belated birthday party?” Avery asks,

looking up at him hopefully. “I mean…it’s not really a party because
we’re in a hospital, but the nurses are throwing me a party...” And then
something foggy and dreadfully misplaced falls over her features,
uncharacteristically diming her expression. “Because I may not...well I
mean it could be…um…”
Louis sadly already knows what she is struggling to say, and it pains
him immeasurably even to think about, let alone say out loud. This
very well may be the very last birthday Avery ever sees.
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“Well that’s very nice of the nurses. Will there be cake?” Louis asks
lightly, attempting to steer away from the downcast mood the
conversation is heading towards.
“Of course there will be cake, silly.” Avery answers, brightening up a

little.
“Good, because a party with no cake is no party at all.” Louis smiles,

not allowing his own expression to falter. “When is it?”
“It’s tomorrow afternoon at four, I think—or actually 16:00 for you.”
Louis chuckles, a bit impressed that she’s picked up on the 24-hour

clock in all her time spent here. “Oh, I’ll probably still be in surgery.”
Avery’s face once again falls just as it did before and Louis truly can
not stand it. How this little girl has so much power over his emotions
and consent is beyond him.
“But...um I’ll try to come over right after and stop by.” Louis offers,
ready to say almost anything to wipe that defeated look off of her
beautiful face. “How does that sound?”
“Really?” Avery peaks up shyly. “You will?”
At this point, Louis doesn’t care if he has to push his surgery all
together, he will make it to Avery’s party. “Yes, really!” He smiles
warmly, bopping her on the nose. “I won’t miss it.”
“Good. Oh! I had an idea earlier—well it’s not a new idea…I’ve had
it for awhile, but then I forgot…but then I remembered again…but
then I forgot and anyway! Do you want to hear it?” Avery asks, getting
that same bubbling excitement back in her voice that Louis finds so
lovable.
“Of course I want to hear it.” Louis smiles dotingly at her.
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She grins again, as she sits up a bit more. “Ok, well I’ve noticed that
your little surgery hat is especially boring.”
“My little surgery hat.” Louis giggles fondly at her description.
“Yeah, that thing.” Avery points up to the scrub cap fasten to Louis’
head. “Yours is the boringest one I’ve ever seen ever. Ever.”
“And exactly how many have you seen?” Louis entertains, narrowing
his eyes at her.
“Tons.” Avery emphasizes with wide eyes. “I’ve seen some with
puppies and flowers and boats and all kinds of cool things. Like Dr.
Horan has golf balls on his and Dr. Payne has a Batman one and then
yours is just blue.” She scrunches up her nose to express how utterly
disappointed she is and Louis thinks it’s the most endearing thing.
“It does its job though!” Louis defends, holding both hands to his
capped head. “And what’s wrong with blue, anyway? It matches my
‘doctor outfit’, as you call it.”
“Mmm well, I think you should get a special one.” Avery decides.
“Alright and what do you think should be on it?” Louis asks, choosing
to further entertain the conversation.
“Walruses.” Avery whispers, grinning up at him knowingly.
“Walruses…” Louis echoes softly, exhaling as he hangs his head down.

Somehow saying that one seemingly innocent word summons such a
devout heaviness over him, an emotional trigger he wasn’t quite
expecting. The last thing he wants to do is start crying again, but he
feels so impossibly heartbroken. Talking with his favorite girl like this
again is everything his heart needed, but how many more of these
moments will they have together?
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And walruses—god, walruses; such a random animal that isn’t all that
random when it comes to him and Avery. He gave baby Avery her
very first plush walrus all those years ago and for some reason she kept
it as she began to grow up and it looped right back around and was the
start of their first defining conversation together. Ordinarily walruses
wouldn’t mean anything to Louis, but now they mean absolutely
everything, the unexpected beginning of it all for the two of them.
“Louis?” Avery wonders gently.
“Hmm?” Louis slowly lifts his head back up, trying as best he can to
keep a semblance of composure.
“What’s wrong?”
everything…everything’s wrong
“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.” Louis forces a smile that he

knows falls horribly flat.
“Louis, you’re sad.” Avery worries, watching him closely as she seems
to see right through him. “I know you’re sad, I can see it in your eyes.”
“I…” Louis inhales shakily, knowing that he can’t exactly hide it from
her. There’s so much Louis could say, so much contributing to how
he feels, but he just doesn’t know how to express it. Not without
breaking right down into uncontrollable tears again. “I just really want
to help you, Aves…and I…I…”
all i want is to help you, but i don’t know how
He rakes his fingers through his hair, shaking his head when no further
words come to him. His eyes are starting to sting again and he feels
that awfully familiar ache pulling tightly at his chest. So with everything
left in him, Louis tries to breathe deeply. Inhaling and exhaling and
hoping it passes. But how can it pass when at the root of it all Louis
doesn’t have the slightest clue what his next move should be. He has
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not a single idea or inkling about how he can treat her or what he can
do to even begin slowing down the effects her tumor is sure to take
hold.
Fuck, and he feels so frustratingly useless—he’s trained under brilliant

minds and he’s published groundbreaking theories, he’s been honored
and recognized for his work on numerous occasions, he’s become one
of the best in his field and yet despite all that…he’s still powerless to
save the one person who would make any of that mean something.
This can’t be the end for her, this can’t be all her life amounts to. This
can’t be the end of her story. It can’t.
Louis can’t imagine his life without Avery anymore. He can’t imagine
a world where she doesn’t exist. Whether he is able to be actively apart
of her life or not, Louis wants her to be able to live, live her very best
life. Even if he never got to see her again, even if she is never his,
knowing that she’s alive and well and happy somewhere, living the
carefree life a little girl should be living, that would be more than
enough for him. God, it would be so much more than enough.
“Hey.” Avery reaches over and slips her small hand into Louis’, giving
it a warm little squeeze in reassurance. She’s never been one to miss a
single thing, always so intuitive, and there’s no way she doesn’t know
that Louis is on the verge of tears. “Wanna know a secret?”
Louis tilts his head at her, managing a marginal smile. “What’s that,
love?”
“I’m not sad that I’m sick.” Avery tells him earnestly.
“What?” Louis wonders in whispered confusion, features pulled into

a frown as he runs his thumb gently across her hand.
“I’m sorry that it’s hurting my Daddy so much and that makes me
really sad for him because I love him and I only want him to be
happy…but I’m not sad for me.” Avery starts to explain, holding
Louis’ gaze. “And the reason I’m not sad is because if I didn’t get sick,
then I never would have gotten to meet you again.”
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Louis breathes in heavily, eyes impossibly wide behind the lenses of
his glasses. He is truly without words, feeling his heart swell,
threatening to burst from the confines of his chest.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think and I’ve decided that I think that
everything happens for a reason, you know? It’s like…well…” Avery
pauses to think to herself for a second. “It’s kinda like this…my Daddy
tells the worst jokes sometimes—like really, really reeaallly bad. But
even his worst jokes have a punchline...there’s always a point to them,
even if it’s lame. And sometimes I don’t get the point because I’m
stuck thinking about how really not funny his joke is. But even when
I don’t get his jokes, it doesn’t mean there wasn’t a point to them. So
I think it’s all about how you look at things. Even when it’s really bad
and I’m stuck thinking about how it doesn’t really make sense or it
isn’t fair…there’s always a reason. And sometimes it’s a good reason,
even if I can’t see it yet.” She explains slowly, as though she’s still
processing it in her mind. “But I think I can see it this time and you’re
my good reason, Louis.”
“It’s not very fun being sick, it’s scary and it doesn’t feel good, but you
were here for me—you’re always here for me. And…you mean so
much to me, Louis.” Avery confesses genuinely, looking up at him
with tears forming under her hazel eyes. “I know that I’m going to get
a lot worse and there’s not a lot you can do about that and that’s gonna
make it scarier, but…I still know that I’ll be ok because I have you and
even when I’m scared, you always make me brave.”
Louis feels the recently familiar sensation of tears pooling under his
eyes, already starting to stream down his face and he doesn’t waste
another moment before pulling her right back to his chest, cradling
Avery’s head against him. “No Avery, it’s you that makes me brave,
love…it’s you…”
“So let’s be brave then. Together.” Avery whispers against his scrubs,
both arms wrapped around Louis’ middle. “I’ll be brave for you and
you be brave for me. Just like with the needles, remember?”
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“Yeah...” Louis answers faintly, tears silently falling. He rests his cheek
down to the top of her head. Louis doesn’t know how this girl got so
brave, but he knows it can’t be because of him. There’s something
inside of her that’s inherently brave, intrinsically fearless and it calls to
him to be better, braver.
Avery sniffles, pulling back enough to meet Louis’ gaze again. “So
from now on we are only going to be brave. Deal?”
Louis takes in a deep breath, nodding his head. “Deal.”
He can be brave for her. If not for himself, Louis can always summon
the strength to brave any and every thing for Avery.
And Louis knows more than anything else, that he can’t lose her. He
can’t—he won’t survive it. He doesn’t care what kind of extraordinary
measures he has to go through, he doesn’t care how much it might
cost, he doesn’t care if he has to jump through countless hoops, he
doesn’t care if he has to risk his entire reputation or what kind of
damage might come to his medical career in the fallout. He is going to
save this little girl, even if it’s the very last thing he ever does.
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CHAPTER 13
please take my broken heart in your hands.
||☤||
By the time Louis finally leaves the hospital and gets home that night,
it’s hardly even night anymore. He collapses right into bed, utterly
exhausted, but despite how worn out his body feels, he lies frustrated
and restless in his bed. And after several stretched out hours of
constant tossing and turning, only finding a few minutes of fleeting
sleep here and there, Louis’ alarm begins to go off.
Louis groans heavily, lying motionless on his back as he stares up at

the ceiling fan. He feels like calling in sick; because if he can’t quiet his
mind long enough to fall asleep, if he can’t focus on such a simple,
brainless task, how the fuck is he supposed to focus on his practice
throughout the day? He’s probably called off sick a total of four times
since he started working at SSMC and the majority of those instances
were recently. And he’s really not trying to make a habit out of it; it’s
just that his entire body feels as weighted down as a slab of lead and
the internal motivation he usually relies on to make it through the
duration of the day is dwindling faster than he can find a suitable way
to restore it.
So after lying immobile in his bed for another thirty minutes, too
drained to even turn his alarm off, Louis decides to push all of his
scheduled surgeries for the day. None of them are emergent anyway,
so they can easily be rescheduled for tomorrow or any other day for
all Louis cares. Any day that’s not fucking today. Louis has never been
so over everything and as much as he wants to shake himself from this
perpetual funk he’s in, he has no earthly idea how.
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Well—he does. Louis knows exactly what would make him feel worlds
better faster than the blinking of an eye. But that’s just it, what Louis
so desperately needs to happen, he doesn’t know how to make happen,
how to turn his jumbled hopes and inconclusive ideas into action to
save the little girl who completely governs his heart.
Using the last surge of short-lived motivation he has left, Louis decides
to still go into the hospital, but only with the intention of locking
himself in the research lab to devote all the brainpower he can manage
into mapping out some kind of treatment plan options for Avery. At
least that way he’s still making himself useful, and maybe today will
finally be the day that he makes real headway on her diagnosis.
Before going in, Louis forces himself to also go on his routine run
around his neighborhood, hoping to center himself at least somewhat.
The ground is slick from the early morning rain and the grey sky is as
dreary and depressing as Louis feels inside. But nonetheless, the run is
good for him, clearing his head enough to give him a clean slate for
the long day of research he has ahead.
Louis avoids everyone when he gets to the medical center,

purposefully zooming past each and every nurses’ station, while also
dodging all the places that he usually meets up with his friends for
coffee in the morning. He even goes so far as to turn off both his pager
and his phone to prevent potentially being interrupted or distracted.
Sitting at the farthest desk in the research lab, Louis dives right into a
mountain of medical journals, reading through every archive and entry
that is in any way related to the treatment of astrocytomas and gliomas.
He doesn’t limit himself specifically to pediatric cases, figuring that a
more likely route may be able to be adapted from an adult case study.
And although Louis has every intention of remaining focused, the

biggest distraction turns out to be his own head, taunting him with
ceaseless thoughts and cruel reminders. Most of all he thinks of Avery,
her gentle words still dancing around in his head on a loop, holding
him prisoner.
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you mean so much to me, louis…
Louis tries to use the words flashing back in his mind to motivate him
further, to fuel his determination that much more, but somehow they
only seem to make his heart even heavier.
you make me brave…
He promised that he would be brave for her, he promised he would

try, but it’s so hard, so unimaginably hard. He’s been studying and
researching like a mad man, head buried deep in medical journals and
clinical reviews, drug studies and surgical technique manuals, looking
for something—fucking anything that he can possibly use or adjust to
save her. He’s made dozens of calls to neurologists and neurosurgeons
around the globe asking for consults and advice, even going so far as
to reach out to his mentor and friend, Dr. Carmichael. But nothing is
clicking, nothing is viable, nothing will give Avery the chance at life
she so greatly deserves and Louis is scared. He’s absolutely terrified that
there actually may not be anything he can do, that the answers he is
interminably searching for don’t exist.
you’re my good reason…
The more time that passes the more discouraged Louis gets, frazzled
and frantic beyond belief. Unwilling to let the cancer win, unwilling to
give up, but knowing that it’s growing more and more out of his
control the longer he does nothing, the longer he knows nothing. And
if he doesn’t begin to figure this out soon, Louis knows for a fact that
it’s going to absolutely eat him alive from the inside out.
“Fuck!” Louis curses angrily in frustration, slamming down hard on

the desk in front of him which causes a whirlwind of papers and notes
to fly about the room. He weakly drops his head down to the surface,
cheek resting on one of the journals uncomfortably. Louis allows his
eyes to fall closed as he attempts to calm himself back down, focusing
on his breathing because that’s really the only thing he can control
right now.
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He chances a glance at the the clock mounted on the wall to see that
it’s fifteen minutes after four and that’s when Louis remembers about
Avery’s little party put on by the nurses. He gradually rights himself
back up, peeling off the post-it notes that somehow got stuck to his
face before running a hand through his hair to fluff it back out. And
although he’s not quite in the mood for a party, Louis knows he
promised Avery and he would never break a promise to her; besides
some time away from this stuffy lab would probably do him some
good anyway.
The party is only a small gathering made up majorly by SSMC staff

members, but that doesn’t matter at all because it puts the most
beautiful smile on Avery’s face, especially when she sees Louis,
absolutely delighted by his presence.
Niall, Liam, and Zayn show up too, not that Louis asked them to, he
hasn’t even spoken to them all day. But they know just how much
Avery means to Louis and through small interactions here and there
over the passing months, they’ve each developed a relationship with
her. They even bring her birthday gifts, Liam and Zayn bring her an
extensive bracelet making set, complete with thousands of colorful
beads for her to make when she gets bored and Niall brings her an
entire collection of musicals on DVD, knowing that she loves to sing
along to them. Avery is thrilled by all of it, of course, and she gives
them each the biggest thankful hugs.
There is actually cake it turns out, cupcakes specifically. Nurse Julie

ordered them from a specialty bakery so they all look like cute little
ladybugs. Avery loves it, maybe even a bit too much because she
doesn’t want to eat them because they’re apparently far too pretty. She
does eventually though, after they all sing happy birthday to her.
And after the party is all said and done, Louis excuses himself right
back to the lab, determined to find a solution even if it kills him. He’s
hardly aware of the time passing yet again, completely absorbed in
trying to find an answer in the lines of perpetual medical text he’s
reading through. And the next time he checks the time he’s only
slightly surprised to see that its already 4:30 A.M.
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Disappointed by all the progress he didn’t make, Louis stretches,
letting out a long yawn before deciding to head to the attendings’
lounge. The coffee in the lounge is usually utter shit, but Louis is far
too tired and lazy to walk to the café across the street or even to the
opposite wing of the hospital where the coffee cart is. So instead he
pours himself a cup of that shit coffee and plops himself down on one
of the couches along the wall.
“You’re here early.” Niall says as he walks into the empty attendings’
lounge, a tray of fresh coffee cups in hand. “Are you really
drinking lounge coffee?” He scrunches up his face in clear disgust and
wastes no time in swapping out Louis’ cup for the quality brew that he
brought from the café, bless him. “You’re worth so much more than
that.”
Louis grins up at him faintly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Die of food poisoning obviously.” Niall laughs lightly, taking his own
cup out of the tray and setting the other two down on the table for
Liam and Zayn. “Is there a reason why you’re here so early? I thought
I was the only one of us here on-call last night.”
“I never left.” Louis sighs heavily, head thrown back against the couch.
There was no point in going home, it’s not like he’d be able to sleep
there either. It’s basically been three solid nights since he’s had a decent
night’s sleep. And honestly, what constitutes decent is a relative concept
at this point.
“Late night surgery?”
Louis shakes his head slowly, righting himself on the couch as he

pushes one of his hands through his hair. “I was researching treatment
strategies for Avery.” He drops his head down, blowing out a defeated,
dejected sigh. “Not that I’m even getting anywhere...”
Niall comes to sit down next to Louis on the couch, setting his cup
down on the coffee table in front of them. “Hey Lou, about the other
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night…I’m really sorry I wasn’t there for you. Liam told me what
happened.”
Louis lifts his gaze and finds the same exact look that all of his friends
have been giving him lately. He shrugs his shoulders a little, managing
a slight smile as he shakes his head. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Ni. It’s
ok…I’m ok…”
as ok as i’ll ever be
Niall nods gradually but still wraps his closest arm around Louis,
pulling him to his side. And Louis goes easily, of course he does, he’s
in no place to turn down any kind of comfort at this point.
“I’m sorry about Avery…” Niall whispers to him, maintaining his

consoling hold around Louis’ shoulders. “It must be so hard to watch
her go through this.”
Louis lifts head back up to him and this time shakes his head at a
complete loss, feeling so small and brokenhearted. “God, I don’t know
what to do...” Because really what is there to do when he can’t accept
defeat, but also can’t afford to be defeated. “I hate feeling
this…helpless...”
“I still think you’ll figure it out, Lou…you always do.” Niall rubs Louis’
back in slow, soothing motions.
“But what if I don’t?” Louis searches Niall’s eyes seriously. “She’s

going to run out of time, Niall. The clock is always ticking against
her…but I…I just can’t give up on her either—but what if it’s all too
late? What if there’s really nothing I can do?”
“When’s the last time you slept?” Niall asks concern, brow pulled
together as he seems to consider Louis completely.
Louis just shrugs dismissively, breaking eye contact.
549
“Louis, go home.” Niall practically orders, sounding fiercely protective
over him.
“It won’t help Niall, I can’t sleep. I just lie there and nothing
happens…nothing fucking happens.”
“But you aren’t going to get anything done here until you do.” Niall
insists. “Lou, you look exhausted.”
And he is exhausted. In every possible sense of the damned word.

There are only so many miracles caffeine can work before it’s
completely run its course. And for Louis that time passed hours ago,
maybe even days ago. His eyes are practically burning and he almost
feels delirious with sleep deprivation.
“At least promise me you won’t operate on anyone like this. I will
literally report your ass, don’t test me.” Niall smiles a bit, but there is
a layer of seriousness underneath it that Louis knows not to mess with.
Louis smirks through a heavy yawn. “Not if I report myself first.”
||✚||
Although Harry came home with the intention of getting some sleep,
he finds himself unsurprisingly restless. The nurses essentially banded
against him—again and forced him out, claiming he looked worse than
ever. Which is sort of a constant for him now, this is just how he looks
at this point. And ordinarily he wouldn’t leave Avery, but even she
begged him to go home, worried over the fact that he clearly hasn’t
slept since she woke up.
But it’s not because he doesn’t want to sleep or better yet, need to sleep,
it’s that he can’t—not without facing his greatest fear. See, there’s a
dream Harry keeps having, not so much a dream really, but a
nightmare, a cruel, cruel nightmare that haunts him every time he dare
close his eyes. It’s virtually the same every time, he’ll be standing alone
in an empty hospital hallway, walking up to a specific room, but for
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some reason unable to actually go inside. And each time, Avery is there
inside that same room on her bed as she normally would be. He can
see her clearly from the window outside the room and she’ll smile and
wave at him, but then her face suddenly stills and she starts to seize
erratically.
And it’s all so realistic, vivid, like he’s seen it before—he has seen it
before. Except this time Harry can’t get to her. There’s no one to help
her and there’s no way to save her, so he’s left banging against the glass
of the window, screaming her name incessantly, calling out to her until
his voice gives out. And when she flatlines, all he can do is watch it
happen.
If he doesn’t wake up from that screaming, then he’s gasping for

breath while shivering in a cold sweat with a pain in his heart so great,
it feels as though it wasn’t actually a nightmare, but a reality.
So yeah, he can’t sleep. Bless the hearts of the nursing staff for wanting
him to rest, but Harry is in no way going to fall asleep, despite how
horribly tired he feels.
Instead of sleeping, Harry does a bit of spring cleaning, figuring that

at the very least, he should make himself useful. In order to effectively
move on with his life, he needs to clean out every single item of his
ex-fiancé’s. Nothing puts Harry in a worse mood than coming home—
to his house and seeing lingering remnants of Jesse scattered around.
Everywhere he looks around his home, all Harry can see now are all
the potential places Jesse could have fucked someone else on. Maybe
he did or maybe he didn’t, either way Harry fucking hates it and thus
decides that sanitizing every available surface in his house is probably
slightly more realistic than just setting the entire thing on fire and never
looking back.
And that’s how Harry comes to spend the entire night cleaning, using
it as a welcome distraction from the dark thoughts in his head. He
busies himself by packing all of Jesse’s stuff away, every last thing until
there are absolutely no traces of him anywhere in the house.
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By the time Harry gets done, it’s nearing 7 A.M., so he unblocks his
ex-fiancé’s number and sends a very brief, distant text to Jesse telling
him that he can come over and pick up his junk. He’s lucky Harry is
kind enough to give his crap back to him; he could very easily trash it
or burn it or do some good and donate it. But honestly having
countless reminders of Jesse all over his home was worse than having
to see him one last time and giving his shit back is slightly easier than
having to find some way to get rid of it.
Harry is just putting back the last of the boxes he pulled out of the
closet, when he notices a small box nestled in the very back corner. He
gets down on all fours and crawls under the hanging clothes above to
reach it, dragging it out into the light to inspect it further.
But as soon as it’s completely out in the open, Harry gasps outright,
dropping the box down to the carpeted floor, instantly recognizing it.
gemma.
It’s the box she left for him and Avery before she died. The box he
refused to open and refused to even look at for the past nine years.
Just the sight of it alone causes Harry to begin tearing up, transporting
his conscious mind all the way back to the day Gemma gave it to him.
He runs his fingers along the lid, brushing away the dust to see his and
Avery’s names inscribed by Gemma’s lovely handwriting. He can only
stare at it, holding the forgotten box in his lap, daring himself to finally
open it.
what’s the worst that could possibly happen?
And although it’s probably irrational and completely illogical, he

almost expects something to jump right out at him. As if whatever is
contained by this box poses such a threat to his well-being, to his last
thread of sanity. But that’s ridiculous and he knows it, so he fights to
calm his racing heart, and with shaky hands and stuttered deep breaths,
Harry slowly lifts the lid of the box.
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Harry sets the lid down to the side and leans in to inspect the contents
of the box. There’s not much inside, except for three sealed envelopes.
One with Harry’s name on it, another with Avery’s and finally one for
Louis.
Although he thought he’d successfully calmed his racing heart down,

it’s now beating faster than ever before as he unsteadily picks up the
envelope with his name on it. He doesn’t want to send himself into
some form of panic attack alone in his closet, so Harry takes several
minutes just to breathe, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tries to
centralize control over his body.
you’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok…
Once he’s begun to marginally ground his irregular breathing, Harry

gradually forces himself to open the envelope, pulling out a long
handwritten letter. There are small, dried, droplet shaped marks along
the page that can only be identified as tearstains and Harry can already
feel himself losing it yet again, but he forces his eyes to focus on the
words before him.
My darling baby brother,
You know how when we were kids we always thought we were invincible? We’d
convinced ourselves that nothing could touch us if we stayed together. It seemed like
just thinking that made us fearless somehow, made us braver than we actually were
and got us through the hardest of times. I miss those days when we were younger,
when things were easier.
But now, I’m writing this to you with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes because if
I know anything, I know that you’re angry right now. Fucking pissed, I know.
And you have every right to be, to be honest I would be too if I were you. It’s not
fair, it’s never once been fair and I’m so sorry, Harry. I never thought anything
could ever tear us apart, I guess I never stopped pretending that we were invincible
even after we grew up.
But H, even though we might not be as invincible as we thought, I want you to

know how much I believe in you. You are so much stronger than you think you are,
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Harry. I know you always thought that you relied on me, but really I rely on you
in every single way. I’d be lost without you because you ground me, H, you and your
sweet, kind spirit. You have always been my favorite person, the person I need most
in the world.
I know you don’t want to, and you never have before, but you can survive without
me and you will. It’ll be hard at first, I know. But please never give up, please don’t
lose yourself in all the grief you’ll feel for me. Promise me you’ll live your life Harry,
that you’ll go after what you want. That you won’t let this bring you down forever,
that you won’t hold anger in your heart forever. Let it go, H. Please let it go. Be
happy, fall in love, let yourself be loved. You’re so young, baby brother. You have
so much to look forward to and even though I won’t be there to see it, I’m so excited
for you, for all your life will become. There’s better for you, I know it in my heart.
This isn’t the end for you and you shouldn’t let what’s happened to me dictate your
whole life. Don’t give it the power. I know you and I know how you hold onto
things and let it eat you alive, but don’t Harry, please for me, don’t.
You’re a father now and I know this isn’t how you expected to become a parent—
you never asked for this and in so many ways your life is about to be completely
derailed and I’m sorry for that, you have no idea how truly sorry I am, Harry. I
never meant to hurt you and I never meant to put you in this situation and you
have every reason to be upset. I wish I could change things, I wish I could make it
better because I know how scared you must be, but I have every last faith in you.
In who you are as a person and in the father you’ll grow to be. And although it’s
not what either of us wanted, I truly believe good can still come out of this. I won’t
be around to see it, but you will and she will and that’s all that matters to me.
I love you, Harry, with my entire heart, always and forever.
Gemma xx
p.s. I’ve recorded a video for Avery, it’s in the envelope with her name on it. Play
it for her someday when she needs it, I trust you’ll know when that is.
I love you.
Harry’s hands are shaking by the time he finishes his sister’s letter,
trembling so much that he’s hardly able to maintain his grip on the
worn paper that now has more tearstains of his own.
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Harry hugs the letter to his chest, close to his rapidly pounding heart,
shutting his eyes against his heavily falling tears. He’s missed her, fuck,
has he missed her. And it feels good to finally admit that, to finally find
acceptance in it. For so long he’s avoided her, hiding his sister away in
the furthest parts and darkest untouched corners of his mind.
And staring down at his letter and the box it came from, Harry begins
to realize the true extent of his avoidance. Nine years he’s had this box,
nine years he’s had this last lingering piece of closure directly from his
sister and he continually pushed it away. Now all this time has passed
him by and for what exactly? He feels so foolish for avoiding this for
so long, but whether it makes any sense or not, he knows exactly why
he did it.
Harry knows that he never properly handled his grief for Gemma
because unfortunately, running from grief, from sadness, from
heartbreak is not at all the same as dealing with it. By not coming to
understand his sorrow and grow from his grief, Harry never allowed
himself the chance to lay his feelings to rest as he should have. He
never had peace over what happened, so he could never even speak of
it. The wound perpetually felt just as fresh as the day it was inflicted.
But maybe it’s time now. Perhaps now is the time for Harry to rip off
the proverbial Band-Aid and begin to fully let go and embrace her
again. Embrace all that his sister was to him, all she ever meant.
Even in her very last days Gemma thought of him, furthermore

she believed in him. She had so much faith in him and she saw a
potential in him that he couldn’t even see in himself and now Harry
feels like he failed her in so many ways. All this time he’s found a way
to justify not speaking of her. He’s been trying to erase her, erase
everything about her in an attempt to move on. It was easier that way,
less attached, less painful…but Avery needs her, she needs her mother,
needs that connection with her. And Harry has effectively robbed her
of that. He didn’t mean to do it, he swears he didn’t, he would never
purposely do something to cause his daughter any extra pain. But it
seems as though by sparing himself pain, he has indirectly pained her
anyway.
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Harry hardly knew his mother, passing away before he formed any
identifiable memories about her, but everyday as a kid he so wished
that he did. He would daydream about what she might have been like,
begging Gemma to tell him every last thing she remembered about
her, always looking for clues of who she was. It’s only natural really, to
want to know who your parents are, to want to find some kind of
connection to them, figure out pieces of who you really are. Not
having that connection took a heavy toll on Harry, he could never say
it didn’t. He struggled with it for many years through his adolescence
and Harry would never wish that same frustrating confusion and
longing on Avery.
He can’t do that to her, he can’t let her go on wondering endlessly

about her mum, starved for any information about her. Not when he
has all the answers she needs. There’s no reason for her to have to go
through that same emptiness he did as a child. Because even though
he eventually grew up and matured without the love of his mum, that
hollow place remained in his heart, held together by the little things he
does know about her. Like how he apparently has his mother’s warm
smile and her love of all things floral. And based on the vinyl records
she owned, the two of them share the same taste in music. She spent
a lot of time in the kitchen, not because she had to, but because she
enjoyed it, finding a simple comfort in baking as Harry too often does.
He knows she was gentle and kindhearted, led by a patient, loving soul,
and she was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the out.
The little things, however small and minor they may be, still connect
Harry to his mother in some way or another and he wants his daughter
to have that too. He wants her to have so much more than that and
she still can, it’s not too late.
Harry picks up the envelope with Avery’s name written across it neatly,
gazing down at it intently as he similarly did with his own. Once again
he almost feels like he is waiting for something to jump right out at
him. But the only thing that jumps is Harry himself it turns out, as he
is startled by the sudden ringing of the doorbell. He places a hand over
his beating heart, closing his eyes momentarily as he tries to catch his
breath. He forgot all about Jesse the second he found Gemma’s box
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again, but Harry will have to deal with the rest of it later. He careful
sets down Avery’s envelope, swiping at his still teary eyes. The last
thing he needs is Jesse to think he was in any way crying over him or
any other bullshit.
“Coming!” Harry calls, scrambling to his feet as he rubs his eyes dry—
red, but dry. He takes his time as he descends down the staircase with
two packed suitcases and a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. And
before he opens the door, he makes sure that his tears are completely
settled, at least until he can get rid of his ex.
“Harry.” Jesse smiles hopefully as Harry opens the door. “It’s so good
to see you.”
Harry doesn’t at all wish he could say the same, seeing Jesse for the
first time since they broke up is hardly a welcomed experience on his
end. Especially when there are so many better and more deserving
things he could be doing with this time. Harry can hardly gather his
thoughts right now, so he definitely doesn’t have the time or patience
for pleasantries, so instead he shoves a duffle bag in Jesse’s arms and
rolls the two suitcases out onto the porch. “That’s all of it. The
suitcases are mine, but you can just keep them. I really don’t care.”
“Erm…thanks.” Jesse looks caught off guard by how cold Harry is

being, but how could he possibly expect anything more? This is not a
social visit, Jesse was only invited here so Harry can have peace of
mind again in his own home without seeing his ex’s shit all over the
place.
Harry nods once and moves to close the door in Jesse’s face without
another word. He’s barely present in the moment, still thinking of his
sister and the words of her letter.
“Harry, wait!” Jesse calls, dropping the bag to the floor by his feet.
“Can we please just—”
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“No. I don’t want to talk, Jesse.” Harry interrupts firmly, body tense.
“Just take your shit and go.”
“Harry, I—look, you have every right to be mad at me. What I did was
wrong on so many levels.” Jesse admits solemnly, hanging his head.
“But I really think we should at least talk about this, you can’t just
throw away our four years together just like that.”
Harry snorts loudly, rolling his eyes. Jesse practically breathes

hypocrisy and it makes Harry nauseated. As if Harry was the one who
threw their relationship away. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“But…baby I miss you.” Jesse tries in a soft voice, moving that much
closer to Harry as he meets his eyes in longing.
“Oh, I’m sure you do. How’s Chris, by the way? Give him my best for
me, will you? Thanks.” Harry offers the most disingenuously sarcastic
smile as he once again begins to close the door.
“Chris doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear. You’re the only man for
me, babe.” Jesse claims, sounding more and more desperate as he tries
unsuccessfully to get through to Harry. “We belong together, we’re so
good together, Harry. It was just one mistake. One stupid mistake and
I’m so sorry…I swear to you it will never happen again. I love you and
you love me—”
“I don’t love you.” Harry blurts instinctually, words flying out of his
mouth quicker than he can process them. It comes out kind of harsh,
but Harry wouldn’t dare take it back. It’s the truth, and they were never
even that good together. Not communication wise, or even going by
basic compatibility, not in their morals or values, and to be completely
honest, their relationship was hardly notable sexually. “I don’t. I don’t
even know if I ever really loved you.”
Jesse looks affronted, mouth falling open. “How can you say that after
all we’ve been through?”
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“Been through?” Harry scoffs, nearly laughing at the cruel
ridiculousness of his words. “Are you being serious right now? You
and I haven’t been through shit and you know it. You were hardly
there when I went through hell.”
Jesse blinks back at Harry, again taken aback by his words. He searches
his eyes for a moment before nodding his head with some sort of
understanding. “Oh, but he was right? Louis?”
Harry doesn’t offer any sort of response to that, instead choosing to

break eye contact in favor of looking down at the floor.
“That’s what you wanted to say, isn’t it.” Jesse presents what should
be a question as an entitled statement and it makes Harry’s blood start
to boil.
“Goodbye, Jesse.” Harry answers, moving to close the door before he

loses it completely and blows up in Jesse’s face.
“What…are you…” Jesse frowns skeptically. “Are you in love with

him? Really?”
Harry looks up then and narrows his eyes at his ex-fiancé. “Leave.”
“Oh my god, you are. Of course you are. It all makes sense.” Jesse
takes a step back and nods slowly. “You love him. This whole time
you’ve loved him over me. I picked up everything and moved to Seattle
for you and you only came here for him. You lied to me this entire
time.”
“I didn’t lie to you.” Harry defends, feeling his jaw clench up. He didn’t
move back to Seattle for Louis, he moved back for his career and his
family security. As obvious as it should have been, Harry didn’t know
how he felt about Louis before, he was just confused and conflicted
and stupid. But he certainly knows now and there is nothing Jesse
could do or say that would change that and Harry just wants him gone.
“I have to get back to the hospital.”
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“This isn’t over for us, Harry.” Jesse pushes again in persistence. “I
want you back and I—”
“No! No! It is over, Jesse! It fucking is!” Harry snaps, whipping around
angrily at the audacity of his ex-fiancé’s words. He is done being
reserved. He is done being civil. It’s obviously not working, so there’s
no point in holding back anymore. “You really have some nerve—I
don’t have to stand here and entertain your bullshit!”
“Harry—”
“No, stop! Please for the love of god, spare me any more of your
fucking excuses. I have too much going on as it is and if you really
cared about me, you’d maybe start by, oh I don’t know—asking how
I’m doing or how my daughter is doing instead of coming to me with
the same old shit.” Harry bites, holding nothing back. “So no, you can’t
have me back, you know why? Because you cheated on me! You broke
my fucking heart! And for the record, how I may or may not feel about
Louis is none of your goddamn business. You chose someone else—
you fucked someone else, so you aren’t entitled to know anything about
me and my life anymore. You made your bed, now fucking lie in it. I
don’t want you, I don’t love you, we are over. There will never be an
‘us’ again.”
And with that said, Harry doesn’t wait for Jesse to respond or react,
instead he slams the front door closed, determined never to look back
again.
||☤||
Louis is dragging. His feet are dragging, his mind is dragging,

everything about him is dragging. But what can he realistically expect
after the accumulating lack of rest he’s been stacking up? But then
again, how can he rest and sleep peacefully when there is still a giant,
taunting question mark over Avery’s life? It’s a cycle Louis can’t
possibly break, so he helplessly remains a slave to it.
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Needing a little pick-me-up, or any kind of mood booster, Louis heads
to one of his favorite places on the SSMC grounds, the gift shop.
“Dr. T, is everything ok?” Carrie asks from behind the counter as he

walks into the shop. It doesn’t take long for even her to notice how
dreadful he looks and her face wrinkles with concern. “You seem a
little off today…”
“Oh yeah…just uh tired…” Louis mumbles quietly, shrugging a bit.
“Long day?”
long week…long month…long fucking year
“Yeah…” Louis nods, sighing to himself as he runs a hand through

his hair. As much as he adores Carrie, he doesn’t even feel like chatting
with her as he usually enjoys doing. It requires an energy he realizes
that he doesn’t at all have.
But Carrie seems to pick up on it and she hands Louis two packets of
Skittles without him needing to even ask. She must have had them just
waiting up there by the register, anticipating that he would eventually
stop by. And it touches Louis’ heart that she would think of him like
that.
“I hope your day gets better, Dr. T.” Carrie smiles warmly at him and
Louis can tell that she genuinely cares.
“Thank you, Carrie.” Louis grins back softly as he already begins to

head back towards the door. “I hope you have a good day as well.”
And as chance would have it, as Louis is leaving the shop he runs into
Harry—literally collides right into him, accidentally dropping his candy
to the ground in all the commotion of it. He hasn’t spoken to him
seriously since the last time they accidentally bumped into each other.
They hardly interacted whatsoever at Avery’s birthday thing, carefully
dodging each other’s orbits the entire time. Louis wouldn’t admit that
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he’s purposely been actively avoiding Harry for the past few days, but
that doesn’t make it any less true. Louis has been avoiding the
unnerving look in Harry’s eyes, avoiding that unsettling charge that
never fails to spark between them. Yet here they are, fucking bumping
into each other in this huge, impossibly spacious, multistory hospital.
Again.
“We have got to stop meeting like this.” Louis bravely tries to joke,
going for a small smile. But it must fall horribly flat because Harry
hardly returns his smile, seeming to look right through Louis as though
in some sort of daze. “Sorry, um…anxious humor, I suppose. It’s not
really all that funny…”
Harry blinks, shaking himself out a bit as he seems to attempt to

refocus. “Oh—I’m sorry—I’m uh…?” He bends down to pick up the
packets of candy he caused Louis to drop. “Skittles?”
“Oh yeah…” Louis nods slightly, taking the candy back and stuffing
them into his lab pockets. “Probably 90% of my daily caloric intake
comes from Skittles, if I’m honest. Not great, I know but, what can I
say? They have the best candy.”
“The gift shop?” Harry frowns, glancing at the store behind Louis
briefly.
“Yeah, yeah…like, in the whole hospital. That’s a little insider tip for
you. The cafeteria’s supply is shit, just saying.”
“Good to know.” Harry nods, albeit a bit hazily, like his mind
continues to wonder elsewhere without his consent.
Louis frowns, immediately sensing something unusually off about him.

His eyes are puffy and lined in bright red, and he looks exhausted—
actually Harry looks just as exhausted as Louis does. And it makes
Louis wonder when the last time he slept was. “Are you alright,
Harry?”
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“No, yeah, yeah…I’m…I’m good, yeah…” Harry nods in a way that
isn’t even slightly believable. “I was just on my way to get some
uh…coffee? But it’s actually um good that I caught you because I uh,
I have something for you…”
“Me?” Louis frowns again, this time in surprise.
“Yeah…um Gemma left it for you…” Harry reaches into his back
pocket and pulls out a sealed envelope with Louis’ name scripted
across the front. “It’s late I’m sure…and I’m…I uh…I’m sorry. You
should have had it years ago—I don’t have a proper excuse for that
right now…but um…I’m sorry.”
Louis takes the envelope in his hand, staring down at it. If Gemma left
Louis one, then she must have left one to Harry as well which would
explain the impossibly dazed look on his face, like he’s seen a ghost.
“Erm thank you…” He wants to ask more, ask if Harry’s alright, if
Gemma’s letter triggered old emotions for him. There’s no way it
didn’t, Harry’s spent all these years carefully avoiding confrontation
with her, who knows how he’s taking all this now, especially combined
with what’s going on with Avery.
Harry nods once, looking standoffish and distant. “I um…I gotta

go…” He quickly turns on his heel in the opposite direction and he’s
gone before Louis can say another word.
||✚||
Harry grabs a coffee at the cart on his way over to Avery’s room,
ordering it with as many shots of espresso that’s legal for a single cup.
Not like it will help, nothing will help him at this point. Nothing but
getting back to his daughter. Although he takes his time walking
through the hospital to get back to her room, thinking over how
exactly he should go about all this. Sometimes Harry wishes there was
a blueprint, a manual of some kind to help him navigate how he should
go about things. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like he’s continually
fucking up at every chance he gets.
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“Morning, Munchie.” Harry greets with a gentle smile as he makes it
to her room, hoping she won’t notice just how drained he actually is.
“Daddy, you don’t look like you slept at all.” Avery notes right away,
small voice drenched in worry.
“Oh, but how can I possibly sleep without my baby next to me?” Harry
leans in to kiss her forehead. “I was just so eager to come back to you,
I couldn’t sleep. I missed my little munchkin too much.” He sits down
on the bed next to her, cupping her face in his hand. “How are you,
Avie? Are you feeling ok?”
Avery nuzzles her cheek to his palm and nods her head slowly, but
Harry can tell she’s not feeling the best today. “I’m ok…my head hurts
more today…”
“I’m sorry, honey. I know it hurts.” Harry pulls her close pressing
more affectionate kisses to her head as if they can somehow heal her.
The medication helps most days, but knowing she’s in constant pain
and only being able to watch is the most unbearable thing about being
a parent. The nurses tell him that the best way to help right now is to
distract her, keep her occupied so that she’s not as focused on the
growing pain. It’s not a solution by any means, but Harry tries his very
best. Although today the distraction he has to offer her may cause her
a different kind of pain. But he can’t put it off, Harry knows he can’t
put it off any longer. Gemma said he’ll know when she needs it the
most and even though he just rediscovered the envelope she left for
her, Harry knows the time is now, because who knows how much time
she’ll even have left?
“Avie, baby…I need to talk to you about something. It’s about your
mum.” Harry starts slowly, laying down beside her on the bed.
Avery sits up at that, all of her attention focused on Harry. “But you
never talk about her.”
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“I know.” Harry hangs his head regretfully, exhaling. “And I want to
tell you how sorry I am for that, sweetheart. I am so sorry for keeping
things about your mother from you, I know how confusing and
frustrating that must be for you to go through, especially now…” He
takes one of her hands in his, thumbing over her skin softly. “And I
hope you know I’d never want to hurt you. That’s not an excuse
but…I just…uh…well your mum meant so much to me, she was the
only family I ever knew and when she passed away…I didn’t handle it
very well.”
“It’s ok, Daddy…I know it was hard for you.” Avery squeezes her
father’s hand in reassurance.
“No, but it’s not ok, Avie.” Harry shakes his head, needing her to
understand. “Yes, it was hard for me…but I never should have let any
of that come between your connection to her. I’ve distanced you from
her because I wasn’t strong enough to face that time in my life, but I
realize how wrong that was of me and you deserve so much better
from me as your dad and…I’m just…I’m so sorry, baby.” He
apologizes from deep down in his heart, feeling the sting of regretful
tears burning at the corners of his eyes. “You should know who your
mother was and we should be able to talk about her whenever you
need to. So I promise that from now on, no matter what, I’m going to
be honest with you...” He pulls Avery’s envelope out of his pocket,
handing it over to her. “Starting with this.”
Avery takes it in her hands, gazing down at it in confusion. “What is

it?”
“Um…well…your mother gave me a box before she died and inside

was that envelope for you…” Harry explains to her. “I’ve had it since
you were born…but I’ve never opened the box until today.”
Avery continues staring down at the envelope, before looking back up

curiously. “What made you open it today?”
“I don’t quite know, really.” Harry frowns to himself, brows pulled

together. “I’d forgotten all about it—probably because I didn’t want
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to think about it…but I was cleaning out some things at home and I
happened to find it again. I was scared to open it before—I was still
scared even today, actually. But I’m trying not to run from things
anymore…because I…I really want to be better for you, Avery.”
Avery smiles at him like she’s proud of him. “But you know I already
think you’re the best Daddy in the world.”
Harry’s feels his heart melt, but he shakes his head, not at all feeling as
though her sweet sentiments towards him can possibly be true after all
he’s so regrettably done.
“No, but I’m serious, Daddy.” Avery insists in earnest. “You’ve always
sacrificed everything for me and you always do everything you can just
to make me happy. I know you love me and I know you care about
me, otherwise you wouldn’t try as hard as you do for me. Everyone
makes mistakes sometimes, no one is perfect. You were hurting and
you were sad and you were taking care of me all by yourself. That
doesn’t make you selfish, not to me...”
“I love you so much, Avie.” Harry professes, letting his eyes fall closed
as he hugs his daughter. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He
peppers affectionate kisses to her forehead and he doesn’t know what
he ever did to deserve a child as sweet and loving as her, but he
couldn’t possibly be more grateful.
After Harry has released his hold on her, Avery turns her attention
back to the envelope in her lap. “Do you know what’s inside?”
Harry nods slowly. “She recorded a video for you before she died.”
Avery stares down at the sealed envelope before slowly tearing it open
carefully. She pulls out a tiny USB drive, holding it flat in her hand.
“So you haven’t seen it?”
Harry shakes his head, watching her reaction closely. He can only
imagine all the things that must be going through her mind right now,
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having never had any contact with her mother and hardly so much as
a mention of her throughout Avery’s entire life thus far.
Avery looks at the flash drive uncertainly as though she’s a bit scared
herself. “Can we watch it together?” She peeks her head up, hazel eyes
gazing into his green ones. “You and me?”
“Yes, sweetheart, of course.” Harry promises, taking her hand and

lifting her small palm to his lips. His daughter looks so incredibly
nervous and terrified and although Harry feels similar, he knows as her
parent he needs to step up and support her regardless of his own
trepidations. “But Avery, no matter what’s on this, know that I’m here
for you and I love you, I love you so very much ok, baby?”
She nods again, holding his hand tightly.
Harry had left his laptop with Avery because she likes to watch movies
on it, so he grabs it from the bedside table and sets about pulling the
video up. QuickTime Player opens when he clicks on the video icon
and suddenly a frozen screencap of Gemma’s face is filling the
MacBook display.
“She looks so much like you, Daddy.” Avery notices right away, gazing
in fascination at the screen.
Harry nods faintly, feeling a wave of unexpected emotions splash over

him. Just seeing a still of his older sister’s smiling face causes his breath
to stop coming easily. He hasn’t so much as even looked at a picture
of her since her funeral, it was too painful to think of her, to keep
reminders of her around him. The only way he could move on was to
forget and block out, but he can’t do that anymore, he won’t do that
anymore. Harry may not feel strong enough for this, but he has to be.
For Avery. His daughter needs this.
just breathe…in and out…in and out…
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“She’s so beautiful.” Avery awes softly, completely enraptured by the
image of her gorgeous mother.
“Just like you.” Harry whispers, kissing her temple. “You look more
and more like her every day. Sometimes when I look at you, all I see is
her.”
And it’s true, Avery physically favors her mum in so many startling
ways. From her wide dimpled smile to her light sprinkling of freckles
peppering her face. The older she gets the more convinced Harry is
that she is the spitting image of his late sister.
“Are you ready, Avie?” Harry asks, looking down at her.
Avery moves around a bit to get comfortable in Harry’s lap,

rearranging his hands to wrap around her as she positions the
MacBook atop her own lap. “Ok, I’m ready I think…”
“Ok—”
“Wait!” Avery stops him, placing her smaller hand over his. “Daddy,
what if I’m not really ready?”
“That’s ok too, Munchie.” Harry reassures her, resting his chin against
the top of her head. “You don’t have to be ready right now. But if you
are, I’m here for you and if you’re not, I’m still here for you.”
Avery pulls Harry’s arms even tighter around her middle, seeming to
feel safer the deeper she nestles herself in his embrace. So Harry pulls
her in closer, as close as humanly possible, doing everything he can to
make sure his baby is ok.
“As long as you’re with me then I’m ready.” Avery decides bravely.
“I’m not going anywhere, Avie.” Harry promises gently, reaching to

click play on the laptop before he loses his own nerve and starts
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breaking down. This isn’t about him, it’s about his daughter and for
her he would go to the very ends of the earth.
“Hi Avery, my darling.”
Harry’s heart instantly pangs at the long lost, but not ever forgotten
sound of his sister’s voice. His eyes fall closed and his breathing nearly
comes to a standstill yet again as time seems to do the same.
“Or at least I really hope your name is actually Avery…” Gemma

furrows her brows together a bit. “Harry better not have fucked that
up—oh I mean—shit.” Her eyes widen and she covers a hand to her
mouth, shaking her head regrettably. “Oh ugh—I’m sorry Avery, don’t
say those words, ok? God, I’m already making a horrible
impression…I’m sorry.” Gemma laughs to herself, biting her lip as her
cheeks flush a little in embarrassment. “I swear I’m not usually like
this—or maybe I am? Who knows? Let’s just blame the cancer,
it’s always the bloody cancer’s fault.”
A reminiscently tearful smile makes its way to Harry’s face, pulling at

his lips as he feels the odd comfort of his sister’s twisted humor
warming his chest. Gemma was always trying to make light of her
situation, ready with a quick witted joke or a snarky quip at a moment’s
notice. And it may have annoyed Harry then, but he misses it so very
much now. And hearing it again, Harry never realized how much
Avery’s laugh sounds like Gemma’s; yet another thing to add to the
list of always growing similarities.
“Well, to be perfectly honest…I don’t quite know exactly what I want

to tell you. There’s so much to say…so much on my heart, but…how
can I summarize a whole lifetime of advice in just this one moment…”
Gemma shakes her head, sighing as her gaze falls down to her pregnant
stomach. “I don’t know…but I’m just going to say whatever comes to
mind first, so bear with me. Alright, love?”
Gemma is quiet for a very long moment, head bowed down sadly
before she looks back into the camera with newfound tears lining her
eyes. “I don’t want to leave you…” She whispers emotionally, both
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hands resting protectively around her swollen belly. “I love you so
much, Avery. I hope you know that—I hope you know it and you feel
it in your heart as strong as I do…I love you.”
Avery breathes in heavily and Harry knows just how much she needed
to hear that. Even if Harry told her from this day forward how much
her mum loved her, it would have never had as much impact as hearing
it straight from her mother’s lips. There are tears already forming in
the ducts of Avery’s eyes, soon rolling down her soft cheeks. And
Harry doesn’t quite know if they are sad or happy tears, but watching
his little baby cry is like watching every good and pure thing be stripped
from the earth. He presses his lips to the top of her head, only wanting
to comfort her.
“You’re the love and light of my life. When I first heard your heartbeat
I fell completely in love with everything about you.” Gemma smiles
even though the tears from her eyes only grow stronger. “You’re a
miracle, my beautiful, beautiful miracle. All I want is to finally hold you
in my arms and feel your little fingers curl around mine. God, I want
to meet you and kiss you and hug you and love you—it’s all I ever
think about anymore. Don’t ever think that I didn’t want you—I knew
from the very second I saw that tiny little picture of you on the
ultrasound that I wanted you forever. I never wanted anything more.
You’re everything to me, Avery and without even knowing it, you
changed my life.”
Harry holds onto Avery tighter, feeling her start to sob heavily in his
arms and his heart breaks for her as it simultaneously breaks for his
sister. Gemma never had the right of every mother to simply hold her
child, to feel that heartwarming sensation of her baby’s heart beating
alongside hers. She was robbed of all the simple joys that come with
motherhood and Harry never truly felt the gravity of what that really
meant to her until now.
Fuck, and he’s been so angry at her, harboring the misplaced feeling
within himself all this time, unwilling to part with it, reluctant to let go
and finally grieve. And although unintentional, in many ways Harry has
allowed that anger more control than ever, to the point where he’s
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practically made an enemy out of Gemma in his mind. He shut her
out, avoided so much as speaking her name, and it’s done far more
damage than good in the long run.
“And with my whole heart I really wish we had more time together…I
wish I could be there to watch you grow up and find yourself—
discover your rightful place in the world.” Gemma holds both her
hands over her bump again, softly rubbing slow circles over it. “And
wherever that may be, I want you to always be confident in whoever
you want to be, in whatever your dreams are. Never let anyone tell you
your dreams are impossible, never give up on what you love, be
fearless and be brave as much as you can. But know that it’s ok to be
scared too sometimes, it’s ok to not always be ok. I don’t know what
life has planned for you, but I know it won’t always be easy, it
unfortunately never is. But never let the hard times diminish who you
are, shine brighter instead, remember to love others and
always, always be kind.”
“My heart breaks thinking about all the things we will never be able to
do together…but I’ll always be with you in some way, held in your
heart. And I’m leaving my necklace for you…” Gemma touches a
hand to the simple golden necklace laced around her neck. “It was the
only thing I ever had of my mother’s and it only feels right to pass it
on to you. It’s an A for Anne, but now it can also be an A for Avery.
I kept it close to my heart wherever I went and although I barely
remember her, I always feel her with me as long as I have this. So I
hope when you wear it, you’ll always feel me too.”
Harry picks up the envelope from Avery’s lap and fishes the gold
necklace out of the bottom. He recognizes it instantly, it never left
Gemma’s neck from the time she put it on as a young girl close to
Avery’s age. Harry is happy that Gemma left it for her, a physical way
for Avery to connect to the strong, beautiful women in her family that
came before her.
When Harry places the necklace in Avery’s palm, she holds it in both
her hands as though it’s worth her entire weight in gold. She lifts it up
and holds it close to her heart, fresh tears springing to her eyes.
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“And Harry.” Gemma calls next, and Harry looks up at the screen not
knowing if he is prepared to hear anything she has to say towards him.
“Oh my sweet little brother, I know I’ve already written you a letter,
but I know you’re watching too, so I want to tell you again how much
I love you, H.” She smiles fully, eyes still shining. “You’re the best
brother any girl could ever hope for and I’m glad I got stuck with
someone as weird and strange as you my whole life.”
Harry smiles tearfully too, glad to hear his sister tease him once again.
He’s missed their constant teasing of each other, the bickering and
harmless sibling arguing they couldn’t help but engage in at every
chance they got.
“Oh my god Harry, but please don’t let my child grow up with your
lame sense of humor.” Gemma pleads with a knowing smile and Harry
immediately frowns in offense while Avery just laughs at him. “I’m not
going to make requests on how you parent her because I know you’ll
be a brilliant dad, but please for the love of god, don’t corrupt my pure
little baby’s mind with your bad corny jokes. She doesn’t deserve that,
no one deserves that, honestly.”
Avery giggles even more, finding it all hilarious. “She’s right, I told you
they’re really bad.”
Gemma smiles widely, taking in a deep breath and letting it back out
with a sigh. “Well, Louis is going to be in here any minute to poke and
prod at me so I have to go. Actually, you know what—while I’m on
the subject of Louis, I should probably say that—no I shouldn’t
meddle…no, fuck it, yes I should I’m dying anyway.” She goes back
and forth with herself before leaning in a bit closer to the camera.
“Harry, look me in the eyes. Are you looking? I hope so because I want
you to really listen to me.” Gemma says seriously with narrowed eyes
and Harry feels like he already knows exactly what she’s about to say.
“I’m not trying to play matchmaker or cupid or anything cheesy and
lame like that but…Louis is important, H. He’s more than
important—he cares for you, he really does, Harry. Honestly, I think
he may even love you already and I know for a fact that you love him.”
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how did she know?
“And don’t you dare frown and say ‘oh, how does she know?’” She
mimics his deeper voice, pulling a specific facial expression of his. “Of
course I know, you big oaf! I know you—probably better than I even
know myself, if I’m quite honest. And I swear to god I will fucking rise
from the dead and kick your ass if you mess it up with him.” Gemma
threatens, sounding incredibly serious. “I know how you tend to
overthink things, but there’s nothing to think about. Nothing at all.
I’ve never seen you as peaceful as you are when you’re around him.
You’re always 100% genuine with him and he makes you smile in ways
that even I never knew you could and the way he makes you laugh and
forget all your problems—it’s beautiful, H. It’s so beautiful and you
deserve someone who can make your heart full again. Please don’t
push him away after I’m gone, ok?”
Harry doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry or maybe a horrible

mixture of both. He knows his sister only had his best interest at heart,
all she wanted was the very best for him. If only Harry hadn’t avoided
everything up until now, if only he had grieved her properly and dealt
with his emotions maturely, maybe then he wouldn’t be in the position
he is now. Perhaps he and Louis would still be together, be a family.
“Alright my loves, I’ve really got to wrap this up now.” Gemma

announces sadly with another heavy sigh. “Harry, Avery, I don’t know
what challenges may come up once I’m gone, I have no way of
knowing where life will take you, but I know you’ll make it through it
somehow because you have each other. And you’ll love each other
through it all.”
Avery tilts her head up at him and Harry squeezes his arms around her,
leaning down to peck the tip of her nose.
“I love you both with my whole heart.” Gemma whispers earnestly,

her voice breaking. “I’m sorry to leave you, but don’t ever forget how
much you mean to me.” She smiles one last time and it’s warm and it’s
full and it’s bright and it’s everything. “Goodbye.”
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Avery and Harry sit quietly for a moment after the video comes to an
end, before Avery reaches to touch the frozen screen depicting
Gemma’s face.
“Bye mom.”
||☤||
Sitting in his car, Louis gazes down at the envelope in his hands. He’s
been sitting in the hospital parking lot for the last thirty minutes
waiting for the courage to finally open Gemma’s last parting words to
him. Since Harry gave it to him this morning, it’s practically been
burning a hole right through his lab coat pocket, daring him to drop
everything and read it right then and there.
But Louis knew that he needed to be alone when he read it, he knew
there was almost a guaranteed chance that whatever she wrote to him
would throw him right back in time and who knows how his emotions
will react to that.
Taking one last inhale, Louis begins to rip open the aged envelope,
careful not to tear whatever pages lie inside. He pulls out a folded up,
handwritten letter and as soon as he gets it opened up, he begins to
read.
My dearest Louis,
Well if you’re reading this, it’s safe to say that you’ve completely failed as my doctor
and I’m officially dead. Kidding, kidding, it’s not totally your fault, after all you’re
just a lowly intern, what could you possibly know anyway? (I’m totally joking, you
know that, right? I joke too much, I know, but for the record, you’re definitely the
smartest person I’ve ever met in my life and I think you’ll be a brilliant physician
one day.)
Alright so, let me start by saying that I never thought I’d ever meet someone as
wildly opinionated and strong-willed as me, but of course you and your smartass
had to show up and completely prove me wrong. And now I don’t know how I ever
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lived without your friendship. I’ve only known you half a year or so, but it honest
to god feels like I’ve known you my entire life.
I don’t know where I would have been this entire time without you keeping me sane
and grounded. But I sure as hell know that I wouldn’t have made it this far; you
got me through so many hard days and you’ve made this hellish nightmare a bit
more bearable. Because of you I can look back on all this and still smile, I can look
back on the worst time of my life and still find it in me to have a laugh, a real,
honest laugh. We have so many memories, beautiful moments that I’ll always hold
dear and from the bottom of my heart, I just want to say thank you.
Thank you for every time you put aside all the work you had to do just to talk with
me. Thank you for all the times you stayed at the hospital overnight to keep me
company when you could have gone home. Thank you for uplifting my mood and
sharing your beautiful soul with me. You are without a doubt one of the most
astonishing people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing and with every failing organ
in my body, I’m going to miss you, my friend.
But…on the brightside, I guess I can rest easy knowing that I met and approve of
my little brother’s future husband. I’m joking (I’m serious). I’ve started to take it
as a sign that my baby always kicks when you’re in the room. I think she’s the best
judge of character and since she seems to be dying to meet you, I think as far as
future brother-in-laws go, you’ve got to be the very best there is to offer.
And I’m probably going to go to hell for this but, you know what? Fuck it, I’m
dying, I get to be a little messy. So that is why I just have to tell you that my brother
is absolutely mad for you, Louis. ABSOLUTELY MAD. And honestly I’m
going mad the longer he goes on without doing anything about it. Although I
couldn’t be happier, because of all the people he could have fallen for in this world,
he fell for you. I mean a super hot, sexy doctor who is also ridiculously hilarious
and impossibly kindhearted? How much better can he really do? :)
But in all seriousness, please be patient with him, Lou. He’s going to be so very
lost without me and I can’t tell you how worried I am for him. There’s no way to
prepare him for this, but I’m asking that you be there for him—both of them. I’m
asking that you take care of them for me, watch over them like you watched over
me. He needs you, Lou. Obviously since he’s my brother he’s bound to be a stubborn
ass, but even if he’s too stubborn to admit it, he needs you. Now more than ever.
He’s so scared and I don’t blame him, becoming a dad is scary enough as it is, but
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becoming one so suddenly like this is unimaginable. I know you care about him,
and I know you have real feelings for him and I doubt you ever thought that falling
for him would come with a baby this soon in your relationship, who would ever
expect that? It complicates things, I know and I’m so sorry for that, for putting all
this on you both. But I hope that somehow, despite it all, maybe everything that’s
happened whether good or bad, will bring you that much closer together.
It’s an honor to have known you, love. You’re more than a friend, more than a best
friend even. You’re family. I love you like my very own brother and a piece of my
heart will lie with you forever.
With all my love,

Gemma xx
p.s. I never cheated at cards, you just fucking suck :)
Louis gazes down at the thin sheet of paper in his hand, rereading over
the words scribed in ink over and over again until he can hardly see
anymore. His eyes are wet and he didn’t even register that he started
crying, but to be honest, it doesn’t take much to set him off these days.
Louis uses the sleeve of his arm to wipe his face, sniffling to himself.
The letter was so heartwarmingly and unapologetically Gemma—

sarcastic, yet so sincerely sweet and Louis has missed his friend so
much. But he can feel her again through her immortalized words and
it makes him smile, an honest, genuine smile, even through his falling
tears.
Louis didn’t realize how much he really needed something like this, a
bit of closure to heal his heart. That girl was absolutely ridiculous and
Louis almost has to laugh because Gemma really referred to him as
her brother’s husband. When she wrote this, he and Harry had only
known each other for a few weeks, but even still she was genuinely
convinced that they were it for each other. But the funny part is—or
maybe it’s not so funny, but Gemma was not totally wrong, Harry is it
for him. Louis knows that in his heart and even if they never had a
chance to work out, he knows that will always ring true, Louis has been
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proper gone for Harry since the start and he’ll always be the love of
his life.
Louis also can’t get over how many times Gemma thanked him,
because he always felt that he should have been the one thanking her.
He loved Gemma, he loved spending time with her and talking with her;
he needed her every bit as much as she needed him. Being alone has
never been a good place for Louis and starting residency without a
single familiar face around him only added to his anxious, lonely
feelings. But she made him feel better and brighter from the moment
he met her. Gemma lightened the load of his heart somehow and she
was so much more to him than another patient, she was another sister.
And instead of driving home like he knows he should, Louis hops right
back out of his car and heads back to the hospital, having a sudden
urge to be with Avery. Because just like her mother, she too makes
Louis feel so much lighter.
||☤||
“Louis…” Avery’s lips slowly spread into a soft smile when she sees
him at her doorway, as they usually do. Although her voice is quiet and
weaker than usual, she seems to grow more tired every day and it pains
Louis’ heart to see.
“How are you, Aves?” Louis smiles back, tilting his head at her. “You
alright, love?”
“I’m a little lonely…” Avery admits quietly and Louis silently thanks
whatever nudged him to come back and visit her. “My Daddy had to
go to work for a little bit.” She looks back to him nervously as though
about to ask him a question. “Louis would you stay with me till he gets
back or until I fall asleep? You could hold me or read to me or talk like
you used to when I was a baby or something…”
And there’s absolutely nothing Louis would rather do, she didn’t even
need to ask, he would have done it regardless. “Yeah little love, of
course I will.”
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Louis slides onto the hospital bed near her, gently pulling Avery into
his lap and she automatically curls herself against him. And although
she’s clearly a bit bigger now, he gently rocks her back and forth against
his chest just as he once did when she was a tiny premature baby.
“I met my mom today.” Avery whispers quietly, not meeting Louis’

eyes as she talks. “Well not really...but…you were right…”
Louis doesn’t quite know what she means by that. “About what,
darling?”
Avery looks up at him then with big, wide, warm honey-colored eyes,
one cheek resting snugly against his chest. “She did want me…she
loved me…”
Louis holds her face, running his thumb along her temple softly. He
knows how confused Avery must have been about her mother, not
knowing much about her all this time. And to think that she always
questioned within herself whether her mother loved her or not causes
Louis’ heart to constrict painfully. He nods his head, keeping his eyes
locked on hers. “She always did, more than anything.”
“I didn’t know her…but I…I still miss her...” Avery admits, frowning
to herself before lifting her gaze back up to him contemplatively.
“Louis, will I always miss her?”
“Yes, love.” Louis answers honestly, nodding his head again. He

knows of that feeling, that empty, hollow feeling of yearning, and not
a day passes that he doesn’t feel the lingering ache in his chest for his
own mother. “But she lives on in you. You have all the very best parts
of her.”
Avery remains quiet at that for several moments, seeming to think on

it to herself. “Do you miss your mom?”
“Everyday.” Louis admits quietly, uncovering the raw heaviness lining

his heart as he thinks of his dear, sweet mum.
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“And the best parts of her are in you too?” Avery asks next.
“I hope so.” Louis whispers softly.
Avery nods, offering him a warm smile. “Your mom had a lot of good
parts then.”
Louis’ entire face softens as he looks down at her. “So did yours.”
Her smile grows even wider and more beautiful to the point where she
almost seems to be glowing and all Louis wants to do is bask in the
afterglow.
“I made you something.” Avery announces suddenly, sitting up a bit

on his lap to reach for it on the nearby tray table.
“You did?” Louis is already smiling again.
“Yes! I promised I would, Louis. Remember I said I wanted you to

have a piece of me too. It’s a friendship bracelet. So we can match.”
She hands him a beaded bracelet made up of little beads that look just
like little sunflowers. It’s a bright, golden yellow like her favorite color
and on the front of the bracelet are lettered beads that spell
out L&A BFF and Louis can only gasp in surprise when he catches
the meaning of it.
“I decided that you’re my best friend—well, only if you want to be.”

She says quietly, sounding a bit uncertain or even nervous. “It’s not as
pretty as the one you bought for me, I don’t think...”
“No…it’s better—it’s…it’s…I…” Louis stutters, looking down at the

simple bracelet in pure awe. Because it’s not just a simple bracelet, not
to him. It’s beautiful, so incredibly beautiful, all because she made it
and it’s her gift to him. And in all honesty, she could have presented
him with just a string and he’d probably be just as touched, because
it’s not about the gift, it’s about all the love behind it. The fact that she
cares for him enough to want him to have something of hers always,
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something that represents their friendship, means more to Louis than
anything. “Avery it’s lovely, darling. Thank you…I’d be so honored to
be your best friend forever. Nothing would make me happier.”
And she beams as bright as the rising sun, vivid and brilliant. “Promise
you’ll never, ever, ever take it off, ok?” She says as begins to slip the
bracelet onto Louis’ wrist.
Louis smiles fondly. “I promise, I’ll never, ever, ever take it off—ok
well, I have to take it off for surgery, but I swear I’ll keep it in my
pocket the whole time and I’ll put it right back on after.”
“Ok…I can live with that.” Avery nods, grinning back at him.
And it’s kind of like a little secret between the two of them. No one
quite knows what makes them so close, why they’ve always been so
magnetically drawn to each other. Frankly, Louis doesn’t even
understand it himself, all he knows is that he loves her with all the love
left in his heart and he would do anything for her, anything at all.
The love he has for the child in his arms knows no bounds, it’s
unconditional and unshakable. And maybe one day he’ll tell her exactly
how much she means to him, maybe one day he’ll be able to proudly
express the love he’s always had for her and let the whole world know
that she is his in every way but one, but for now it remains an unspoken
secret between them.
“Louis, will you tell me a story?” Avery requests, settling herself back
comfortably into his arms.
“What kind of story?” Louis wonders.
She shrugs her shoulders. “I dunno, any kind of story.”
“How about you help me tell the story?” Louis suggests, raising an
eyebrow.
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“Ok, you start it off and I’ll jump in when I need to.” Avery decides,
grinning.
“Ok.” Louis smiles and Avery wiggles herself around again, apparently
needing to get herself comfortable once again. “Alright, so once upon
a time there was a warrior, a fierce and brave warrior, the bravest in all
the land. She loved everyone and everyone loved her and all she
wanted was to protect the people she loved who lived in the castle.”
“Like The King.” Avery adds.
“Yes, like The King.” Louis nods easily.
“The King and his Prince.” She amends pointedly.
Louis’ lips upturn slowly. “Alright, The King and his Prince lived in
the castle.”
“Yes, they did and they’re in love.” Avery stresses with wide eyes.
“Are they?” Louis wonders, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Of course they are.” Avery smiles and there’s something so knowing
about how she says it. “What kind of story would this be if they weren’t
in love?”
“I suppose you’re right.” Louis agrees, nodding his head side to side.
“But I was trying to tell a story about an incredibly brave warrior and
you’re trying to tell a love story.”
“It can be both, Louis!” Avery giggles, eyes crinkling.
“Ok, so since you seem to know the story better than me, what
happened next then?”
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“Umm…mmm...umm…mmm…ummm...” Avery ponders to herself
for quite a few moments, puckering her lips together and squinting her
eyes cutely. “There was big, mean, ugly poop colored dragon that was
going to attack the castle.”
“Poop colored?” Louis wonders curiously, an amused tilt to his lips.
“Yes.” Avery nods slowly, yawning a bit as she grows more tired,
allowing her eyes to fall closed as she talks. “It’s not a pretty color.”
“I suppose not.” Louis laughs a little.
“So then the brave warrior girl had no other choice but to go off and
slay the mean old dragon to protect her castle, but The Prince and The
King didn’t want her to go.”
“Why didn’t they want her to go?”
“Because they were afraid that she would never come home again.”
Avery explains sleepily, eyes still closed. “And if she never came home
again, the castle would never ever be the same.”
“But she was really brave, braver than anyone and she knew she had
to go to protect her castle.” Louis adds, continuing the story.
“Right, so she packed a lunch first because it’s a long trip and she
doesn’t like to be hungry.” Avery explains.
“Completely understandable.” Louis agrees wholeheartedly. “What’d

she pack? It’s gotta be a balanced diet, you know?”
“Um…like Oreos…and juice…and…gummy bears…and maybe a

sandwich? PB&J. Yeah, that sounds good.” Avery decides gradually,
thinking to herself. “Oh! And jello, green jello.”
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“Avery, that’s not at all balanced! How is she going to win on that kind
of meal?” Louis frowns, expressing his disapproval of the fictitious
lunch. “The King and The Prince would never allow this.”
“Fine, fine...” Avery smiles, another yawn sneaking past. “She also had
celery sticks and carrots and maybe a banana or something. Happy
now?”
Louis shakes his head. “I don’t know what kind of lunch that is, but I
hope she makes it through the day ok.”
“She does, Louis! Don’t worry about her! She handled her business.”
Avery defends, opening her eyes fully just to frown up at him and
Louis can’t help but laugh, completely endeared. “And she eats all of
her yummy lunch on the way and even has time for a nap—”
“A nap?! You mean to tell me that she didn’t go to bed on time the
night before?”
“Of course she did! But a nap never hurts.” Avery insists before
settling back down and closing her eyes again. “Anyway, by the time
the warrior girl gets to the mean old dragon, she’s all ready to go and
fight him, but then she realizes that the mean, old dragon is only mean
because no one ever talks to him or gives him hugs or any love. So
instead of hurting the dragon, the warrior girl makes a new friend out
of him and when she gives him a hug, he turns into a beautiful walrus!”
“A walrus?” Louis gasps dramatically in surprise. “I was not expecting
that at all. You mean warrior girl had magical hugs this whole time?”
Avery nods her head. “She sure did. It’s her secret gift.”
“That must be why everyone loves her. She has such a big heart.”
“Maybe so.” Avery shrugs in a knowing way and it’s becoming really
adorable because she still has her eyes closed. “And so the warrior girl
helps her new walrus friend get to his new home by the ocean and then
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after saving the day, warrior girl returns home to her King and her
Prince.”
“I bet they are very happy to see her again.” Louis comments, more so
just listening at this point.
“Mhmm…they both cry and hug her and tell her never to leave them
again. And then the King and Prince get married and—”
“Wait, what?” Louis interrupts in confusion. “They weren’t married

this whole time?”
Avery shakes her head. “No, they had to wait.”
“And why’s that?”
“I dunno, they just did.” Avery shrugs again. “But it’s ok because they
finally get married and then they all lived happily ever after together.
The! End!”
“The end.” Louis repeats after her, sighing as though he’s somehow
exhausted. “Wow, that story was a bit more stressful than I thought it
was going to be.”
Avery laughs, but it soon turns into another yawn.
“Sleepy?” Louis cradles her head, readjusting her in his arms.
“Mhmm…” She nods groggily, tucking herself back down against him.
“I’m surprised you made it through that story without falling asleep.”
Louis teases a bit.
“Heyyy.” Avery pouts, dragging the word out slowly and she sounds
exactly like Harry, even managing the same dopey expression.
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Whenever her mannerisms mirror his, Louis can never help but be a
little in awe of it.
“What? It’s true, love.” Louis grins down at her fondly. “Your eyes
were closed the whole time and everything.”
Avery yawns again. “Well, I’m sleepy, I can’t help it.”
Louis tilts his head as he gazes down at her affectionately. Will he ever
not be hopelessly endeared by every little thing about her? Probably
not, but he is very much ok with that.
“Hey.” Louis murmurs softly before she completely falls asleep.
“Hm?” Avery hums blearily, eyes still closed.
“You know you’re still the only girl I’d do this for.” Louis whispers to
her temple, pressing his lips to her skin gently just as he did every night
when she was a baby, his baby.
Avery smiles contently, all dimples and missing teeth. She snuggles
even closer to Louis, arms wrapped around him as tight as can be.
It doesn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep after that, safe and
secure in Louis’ arms. He lulls her quietly, rocking her even after he
knows she is sound asleep. And looking down at her sweet tranquil
face, Louis feels another strong surge of overwhelming affection
bubbling up in his heart for her yet again.
Louis lifts his head to see Harry standing quietly in the doorway. Who
knows how long he’d been standing there watching Louis with Avery,
but his expression is soft although clearly still exhausted.
“Oh…erm hi Harry, you’re back.” Louis shifts a little on the bed,

speaking in hushed tones to avoid waking the sleeping girl nestled
against him. “Um…she was feeling lonely without you but um…I can
go now…”
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Harry shakes his head, taking a step into the quiet room. “No, please
stay, it’s fine. She’s already asleep in your arms.”
Louis looks back down at Avery tucked peacefully to his chest, little
huffs of breath escaping her mouth. She looks like an angel, a beautiful
serene angel.
Harry sits down in the chair next to them, leaning in to press a quick
kiss to the top of Avery’s head. “Thank you…” He starts off slowly,
his words already warm and heartfelt. “Thank you for always being
there for her when I can’t be.”
Louis nods; as if he really had a choice, Avery’s heart calls to his and
he will always be here for her when she needs him no matter what
happens.
And maybe it’s the late hour or the odd sense of peace wafting in the
room that causes Harry to keep talking honestly. “I haven’t really been
sleeping much lately…” Harry speaks lowly, eyes cast down to his
wrung hands in his lap.
“Me neither.” Louis finds himself admitting.
“Every time I try it’s like…it’s like…” Harry sighs as through there are
a thousand bricks weighing down his shoulders. Everything about him
looks so weak and miserably faint, defeated in every possible way.
“It’s like the worst gets the best of you.” Louis finishes for him,
knowing the exact feeling by heart.
Harry glances up to meet his eyes and his voice is quiet. “Yeah…”
Nothing else need even be said, Louis nods his head in total
understanding. It’s nearly impossible to sleep when the darkest of
realities constantly consume his mind, becoming more vivid with each
cruel occurrence. It can get so bad that it becomes hard to even gauge
what’s real and what’s not. It’s horrifying to even consider the concept
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of losing something that can never again be replaced, let alone
knowing that it may come sooner than imagined.
And although Louis thinks better of it, as he does with so many things,
he scoots himself over on the bed, wordlessly inviting Harry to join
him. Harry doesn’t even hesitate, settling his body right next to Louis.
There’s not much space, but the three of them easily fit on the hospital
bed together, Avery shared by both of their laps.
“It’s…I think it’s easier when you can feel her heartbeat…” Louis
whispers as not to wake her. He reaches over and gently takes Harry’s
hand in his, moving to position it on Avery’s back in just the right spot
so that he can feel the steadiness of her heart under his palm. “So when
the worst comes to mind, you can always try to ground yourself by
feeling her heart…it might help remind you that she’s still here…she’s
still ok…”
Harry holds his hand to his daughter’s still body, gazing down at his
hand as he seems to take in the feeling of her beating heart in awe.
Then he looks back up to Louis appreciatively and although he doesn’t
say anything, Louis can see in his shining eyes just how much it really
means to him.
And it probably should be far more uncomfortable than it actually is

with how they’re positioned, bodies touching in countless places,
nearly overlapping with how close they are. But with Avery partially
curled to his chest and Harry huddled close by his side, Louis finally
drifts off, managing a few hours of much needed sleep that he thought
would never come.
In fact, all three of them do. The King, The Prince and The Warrior.
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CHAPTER 14
fix it, for it has only ever been yours.
||☤||
The next morning Louis wakes up feeling more refreshed than he has
in days. He feels a bit lighter and he doesn’t even remember falling
asleep until he begins to register his surroundings. His legs are tangled
up with Harry’s and his head somehow found its way to rest on Harry’s
shoulder. One of Harry’s arms are draped gently over him and Avery
is partially twisted around in his arms and although it’s such a tight fit,
Louis feels so safe.
He can’t believe he actually fell asleep. In Avery’s hospital bed. With

Harry no less. And it’s odd, or maybe it’s not so odd, but being with
them seemed to be all the peace and comfort his body needed to relax
enough to finally fall asleep after days of insomnia. It’s not just that he
fell asleep, but that he stayed asleep—all through the night Louis slept,
not stirring even once.
Obviously Louis knows what the key difference is, but he doesn’t really
want to talk about that, especially not right now and if he waits around
much longer that’s exactly what is going to happen. Harry and Avery
are still asleep, so Louis carefully untangles himself from Harry’s limbs,
adjusting the rest of Avery’s body against Harry, before quickly making
his exit from the room.
Louis heads to the attendings’ lounge in hopes of finding food or

something and for the first time in days, he discovers that he not only
feels rested, but he doesn’t feel so incredibly stressed out and panicked.
Yes, he knows that nothing has been solved yet, but for whatever
reason he still feels calm and centered.
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He heads down the hall, choosing to take the staff staircase because
it’s faster and no one is ever there, but to his delightful surprise he
bumps right into Niall and Charlie who definitely know how to take
advantage of an empty stairwell.
“Just because it’s 5:30 A.M. doesn’t mean no one is here to see you
suck face with each other.” Louis smirks in amusement, crossing his
arms over his chest as he watches them jump away from each other
instantly. “You could at least get a room. They’re free here.”
They both blush immediately, turning their usual bright rosy shade as
they always do when Louis catches them. Which seems to be a pattern
as of late.
“Am I really the only one who ever catches you guys?” Louis tries not
to start laughing, but he can’t help the few giggles that escape his lips.
“Why me?”
“Oh…Dr. Tomlinson—I was uh…just going to um…you

know…prep for morning rounds so uh…” Charlie stammers,
adjusting her glasses back into place as she tries to make herself more
professionally presentable. She leans up on her tiptoes to press a short
kiss to the corner of her boyfriend’s mouth before bolting down the
stairwell.
Louis is still smirking, biting his lip to stop his entertained cackles. He’s
probably acting like a child, but he doesn’t really care. It’s funny and it
feels like he hasn’t properly laughed in awhile.
Niall shoves him playfully as he turns to start walking up the stairs.

“Shut up.”
“I didn’t even say anything!” Louis raises both his hands in surrender,
openly laughing a bit more now that Charlie is gone. He slings an arm
around Niall’s shoulder, pinching him in the waist teasingly. “Fun
night last night?”
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But instead of laughing and swatting Louis’ hands away like he usually
would, Niall makes the weirdest face Louis has ever seen on him, like
he’s suddenly anxious and queasy.
“Wait, Ni?” Louis frowns suspiciously, looking at him seriously now.

“What the hell was that? Did something happen last night?”
“I mean…no?” Niall starts shyly, avoiding eye contact and scratching

the back of his neck. “I don’t know—yes…I guess? Maybe
no…yeah?”
“Niall, speak English, lad!” Louis laughs, shaking his head. “Clearly
something happened or else you wouldn’t be rambling with that look
on your face and—”
“Charlie told me she loves me.” Niall blurts out, managing to look like
a lost little kid even as a full grown man in his thirties.
“Aww really?” Louis smiles, he must admit he’s a sap for that kind of
thing. “Did you say it back? You did say it back right…Niall?”
When Niall still doesn’t answer, Louis throws his head back and groans
heavily in complete disappointment.
“No…?” Niall admits sheepishly, once again looking nauseated.
“Horan, what the fuck?” Louis blurts, almost angrily in disapproval.

“But you’re clearly in love with her—”
“I panicked, ok!” Niall squeaks, shaking his head regretfully. “We were
in an on-call room and we just had sex and it was really
great…everything was really good…and then she just said it…like out
of the fucking blue! And I...I dunno…I pretended to be asleep…”
“Oh god…” Louis groans again, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Does she know you weren’t really asleep? Because that’s the fucking
worst, man.”
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“I don’t think so?” Niall thinks back, frowning. “I mean she just kinda
went to sleep after that? And…well she did turn away from me—”
“She knows.” Louis nods to himself, hearing all he needed to guess

the truth. “Oh, she definitely knows.”
“But…she didn’t act weird this morning?” Niall continues frowning

to himself at a loss.
“Why would she want to make it more awkward than it already is?
Especially when she knows she still has to see your ugly face all day
long at work as her attending.”
“Shit…” Niall curses under his breath, hand on his temple. “Fuck,
you’re right.”
“I know!” Louis nods obviously. “You gotta fix this, mate. I

mean…what is it? Do you not feel the same way about her? Or…”
“No I do, I love her…I have for awhile I just…I dunno, Lou.” Niall
sighs, running both of his hands through his hair. “I’ve only ever told
one other person that I was in love with them and it ended horribly
and I guess maybe I’m still scared…She’s different though…I know
that but…it’s like it means more with her…”
“Niall, I’ve never seen you more frazzled by one girl.” Louis reminds,
having bore witness to this entire relationship. “You love her and if
she means that much to you, you’ve got to tell her.”
Niall nods his head slowly. “I should go find her—I should go right
now and I should bring her flowers—daisies! She loves daisies. Do you
think flowers are enough?” He worries, sounding more frantic by the
second. “Maybe I should bring chocolates too or I don’t know—I just
gotta go find her!”
“Not now, you idiot!” Louis smacks his shoulder. “She has rounds!
Don’t embarrass her in front of her intern friends, are you mad?” He
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smacks his shoulder again just because he can’t believe his friend is
being this dense. “Talk to her in private later. Geez, I would think
that’d be obvious but…wow.”
“Oh my god, what if I really messed it up? What if she hates me now?
What if she doesn’t think it’ll work out between us anymore and she
dumps me? I don’t wanna be dumped.” Niall continues to worry and
Louis would hardly be surprised if he started to break down and cry or
something right here in the stairwell. “I’m really, really bad at
breakups—I get way too attached and I cry and it’s bad, Lou…it’s
really, really bad—fuck!”
“It’s going to be ok—”
“No, it’s not because I fucked it uuup!”
“Niall, stop worrying! Pull yourself together, man!” Louis shakes his
best friend by his shoulders. “You’re seriously catastrophizing this
when you haven’t even talked to the girl yet. Calm down, mate.”
“But I fucked up, Lou! I love her and I should have just told her and
now it’s gonna weird! Niall groans heavily. “I should have dated more
in college or something? Maybe then I’d be better at this? I was just so
focused on school, you know? There wasn’t enough time to date, but
now I’m a grown ass man and I fucking suck at it!”
“We all do, to be honest. But come on, it’ll all be ok, Ni.” Louis
promises, looping an arm through Niall’s to drag him forward. “Let’s
go steal food from the lounge, that always cheers you up.”
When they finally get to the attendings’ lounge, Liam is already sitting
at one of the tables, typing madly on a laptop.
“Hey Li.” Louis greets but is met with hardly any response, Liam’s
brow furrowed tightly in stern concentration. “Alright then…”
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Niall plops himself down on the couch, spreading his whole body out
in what appears to be self-loathing. Louis shakes his head at the two
of them and heads right to the refrigerator, ready to swipe and loot
whatever he can.
Zayn walks in only a few minutes later holding a tray of fresh coffees,
immediately frowning as he takes a survey of the lounge. “Damn
there’s so much stress in this room. I’m nearly choking on all the
anxiety I’m breathing in just by being in here. What’s going on? Y’all
good or what?”
“Oh, hey Z.” Louis pops his head up from behind the fridge. “Have
no clue what’s up with Liam, he was like that when I got here. But
Niall is having relationship problems—or actually he created
relationship problems for himself. He’s fixing it though, no worries.”
“But what if I can’t fix it? What if it’s over?” Niall sighs heavily, arm
thrown over his face.
“Niall, relax mate. Have an orange.” Louis tosses an orange across the
room to Niall who doesn’t even bother to catch it, instead letting it hit
him pathetically in the chest.
“Well, you look better, at least.” Zayn notes positively, walking

towards Louis by the fridge. “Finally get some rest?
“Yeah actually…” Louis nods, digging around on the bottom shelf for
any food that isn’t explicitly labeled. Honestly, he’s hardly above
stealing the labeled food as well, but he figures he should at least start
with the food that doesn’t have a real owner. “I feel alright…yeah…”
“Glad to hear it, bro. You looked like the walking dead, no shit.”
“I can’t even argue with you, Z. I caught a glance of myself in the

mirror the other day and I was horrified to say the least. I nearly shit
myself.” Louis jokes, smiling from behind the refrigerator door.
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Zayn laughs, shaking his head. He comes around and drops an arm
over Louis’ shoulder. “I’m glad you’re beginning to get back to your
old self, Lou. We’ve missed you.”
It could just be the effects of a good night’s sleep or it could be far

more than that, but whatever the true source, whether directly linked
to being with Harry and Avery all night or not, Louis has no idea how
long it will last. But he isn’t going to think too hard about it for the
time being, instead he is going to keep going along with his day and
enjoy his rare stress free moment.
“Oh jackpot!” Louis grins, snatching a whole box of pastries out of

the very back of the fridge. Whoever tried to hide them back there
played themselves the second they decided to leave them unguarded
in the lounge.
“Well, let me go deal with my husband.” Zayn plucks a chocolate

drizzled pastry out of the box, before turning his attention. “Liam, I
brought you coffee.”
“Thank you. Love you. Can’t talk right now.” Liam answers in clipped
sentences, zoned completely into his work. But Zayn is undeterred,
walking over to his boyfriend anyway.
“I missed you when you didn’t come home last night, Li.” Zayn slides
his arms over Liam’s shoulders from behind, dipping down to nip
behind his ear. But he instantly scrunches up his nose once he gets
close enough. “When is the last time you showered, babe?”
“Who knows! It’s this grant proposal I’m writing, it’s stressing me
out!” Liam snaps suddenly, radiating all kinds of stress. Grant
proposals are no joke though, Louis knows how much of a pain in the
ass those can be. But if it can get a doctor the funding needed to do
some real good, then it’s often worth the ridiculous amounts of stress
in the end. “Look at this, I’m breaking out like a teenager!”
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“But I thought you finished that already?” Zayn questions, dropping
down in the chair next to Liam.
“Well I did, but then last night I had an even better idea to enhance
the entire bone regeneration process using nanotechnology at a
molecular level—anyway I had to rewrite the entire proposal from
start to finish before I submit it.” Liam explains, taking a hefty sip of
the coffee Zayn just gave him.
“You’re so amazing, babe.” Zayn awes proudly, massaging the back of

Liam’s neck to ease some of his tension. “But I still think you should
take a break from all that, maybe chill out a little and—”
“I can’t chill out now, Z! I’ve come way too far to chill out!” Liam
stresses and it’s completely out of character for him, he’s usually pretty
easygoing and calm, normally telling the rest of them to chill the fuck
out. “And on top of that, I’m supposed to present this to The Board
this afternoon and I’ve got massive pimples on my face from all the
stress this proposal is causing me…it’s so gross…”
“I’ll say. A shower definitely might help with that though.” Louis
comments, sitting on top of the table with the entire box of pastries in
his lap.
“Um…I’m literally eating, could you not.” Niall complains in a bitter

mood as he picks apart his orange as though it offends him.
“And The Board is not going to want to hand out money to a doctor
who looks like he just hit puberty!” Liam continues to worry
incessantly.
“Mate, I really doubt The Board gives a shit about what you look like.
They’re interested in your research proposal, not your zit face. Put a
steroid cream on it or something.” Louis suggests, nibbling at a
strawberry filled pastry. “The pharmacy has some really good ones.
One of us can write you a script and you’ll be fine.”
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“But I’ve already raided the pharmacy and nothing has worked!”
Louis shrugs, switching out his strawberry pastry for a blueberry one.
“Guess you’ll just be pimply for a while then. There’s always make-
up.”
“I’ll love you regardless.” Zayn promises, leaning in to kiss Liam’s

cheek.
“You love your boyfriend even when he looks this shitty. Not as vain
as I thought you were, good on you, Zayn.” Louis teases, knowing fully
well that Zayn is actually a huge softy and his love for Liam knows no
limits.
“Shut up.” Zayn laughs, throwing a plastic spoon at Louis’ head. “I’d
love him no matter what. Even though he really does smell like shit
right now.”
Surprisingly, Liam isn’t even paying the slightest bit of attention to

Zayn’s profession, instead preoccupied using his phone’s front camera
to inspect all of his current stress related breakouts.
“I’d love Charlie no matter what too, but she might never get to know
that.” Niall adds, even though no one had asked.
“Oh my god, Niall! For fuck’s sake!” Louis groans exasperatedly,

picking up the spoon Zayn just threw and tossing it at Niall.
“What? It’s true!” Niall defends, shielding his body.
“Wait…so?” Zayn frowns looking between the two of them, feeling

out of the loop. “What exactly happened with Charlie? I’m lost…”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Niall flips himself back over
on the couch to continue moping.
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“That’s a first…”
“Ugh and I’ve tried everything to get rid of it…I just wanna, like, I
dunno? Zap it off my face somehow?” Liam rambles to himself,
although no one seems to be really listening except maybe his phone.
“Just shrink it down until it’s nonexistent or something? I need more
friends in Dermatology, you guys are useless.”
Louis frowns at that, not because Liam is so oddly fixated on his acne
problems, but because it sparked an interesting concept in his head.
“Shrink it...” Louis repeats slowly, yet a bit absently, eyes narrowed in
sudden thought.
“Oh, don’t start mocking me now, Louis.” Liam sighs, shaking his
head in warning. “I really don’t have the patience today.”
“Holy shit…” Louis gasps suddenly, face completely lighting up.

“Shrink it! Oh my god, Liam! That’s it!”
“What’s it?” Liam frowns in confusion.
Of course it would come to him when he was finally relaxed and calm.
Niall was right, all he needed was to let his mind loosen up enough
and the answer would come to him.
“I could literally kiss you! No—I will kiss you.” Holding Liam’s face
Louis plops a big wet kiss to his cheek. And because he’s so excited he
gives one to Niall as well, catching him off guard from his practically
fetal position on the couch.
“Spare me, please.” Zayn begs when Louis turns to him next. But
Louis is not at all deterred and he licks his lips and smacks the biggest
kiss of all to Zayn’s forehead, making it as loud and obnoxious as
possible.
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“I have to go!” Louis grabs another pastry as well as the coffee Zayn
brought him and bolts out of the attendings’ lounge with inspiration
in his heart and an idea in his mind.
“What was that about?” Liam continues to frown, gazing after the
door Louis just ran through.
“I’m never sure when it comes to Tommo.” Niall shakes his head. “It’s
probably fucking brilliant though.”
||☤||
“I want to go back in.” Louis announces, without knocking, without

introduction, barging right into The Chief of Surgery’s office. The
entire day he’s been locked away in the research lab, but this time
around he made progress, he actually made a plan.
“What?” Steve looks up from his desk, adjusting his reading glasses as
his attention shifts to Louis.
“I want to go back into surgery and I need you to give me privileges

over Avery Styles’ case again.” Louis clarifies, walking further into the
office to stand across from Steve at his desk.
“And why exactly would I do that?” Steve frowns curiously. “Has

something changed in her condition?”
“No, but I have a plan.” Louis drops a stack of journals on the desk
along with the most recent version of Avery’s brain scans. He holds
one of them up to the light so that Steve can see it. “What do you see?”
Steve puts his glasses back on and leans forward to get a better look.
“Well, I see an inoperable astrocytoma invading both cerebral
hemispheres.”
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“Right, that’s all I could see too.” Louis nods, gazing at the haunting
tumor. “But I realized this whole time I’ve been looking at it all wrong.
If I only look at it with the intent of cutting it out, then of course it’s
inoperable. But what if I don’t cut it out?”
“Louis, you’re a surgeon, that’s what you do. You cut.” Steve responds
obviously, glancing back at him.
“Right, yeah but…not in this case. This tumor is smart and

sophisticated, it’s so integrated within the tissue—the blood supply,
the innervation, all of it. I can’t cut it out, no one could.” Louis says,
lowering the scans back down. “So instead, my plan is to shrink it.”
Chief Aoki just blinks at him, waiting for Louis to elaborate further.
“What?”
“When I was a fourth year resident, Dr. Carmichael and I were

working on this clinical trial where we would inject a concentrated
dose of a highly specialized virus into the brain to directly target
tumors. The hypothesis of our research was that if done correctly, the
virus would attack solely the tumorous cells and in effect, shrink them,
leaving the healthy tissue untouched.” Louis explains, pulling out the
original journal outlining the methods in depth. “We worked on this
trial for nearly a year, but we never had any substantial results, so we
eventually lost funding. And it wasn’t because it was an unrealistic or
bad idea, we just didn’t have the methods right at the time. But I’ve
been thinking about it—seriously thinking about everything we did
wrong back then versus what we did right and I…I think a similar
strategy could work for Avery.”
Steve continues to flip through the old journal articles, comparing the
data and scans. “But these tumors in the study were no where near the
size of your current patient’s and it didn’t work then, what makes you
think it’ll work now with an even larger tumor?”
“This research is years old now and after going back over it, I’ve
realized that there were key steps we should have went about
differently, but we didn’t yet have the medical knowledge and
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understanding to know that at the time. But by combining newer
techniques and tweaking the specific strain and dosage of the oncolytic
virus to precisely match her tumor, I feel like it could really work.”
Louis describes, trying not to get too ahead of himself. “To be honest
with you, I’m still working through the exact plan myself, but I want
to start by excavating what I can of her tumor out, and then
strategically place radiation induced seeds around the borders of the
tumor before injecting the virus. That way, with both the seeds and
the virus working in tandem, the chance of reoccurrence should be
basically eliminated.”
“I mean…it sounds absolutely brilliant Louis, it really does. But it also

sounds incredibly risky.” Steve ponders, glancing down at the scans
again. “And what is the projected overall success rate?”
This is the part Louis isn’t exactly thrilled about. “Well, sir…keep in
mind that her tumor is widespread and this is practically untested and
I don’t feel that the raw number accurately accounts for—”
“Louis, give me the numbers.” Steve cuts in, eyeing him seriously.
Louis breaks eye contact with Steve, lowering his head a bit. He knows
The Chief isn’t going to like the numbers, they aren’t great and Louis
can admit that, but despite how fucking wild it all sounds, this is
Avery’s one and only chance of survival.
“Twelve percent.” Louis finally answers begrudgingly.
“Tomlinson…” Steve sighs heavily, shaking his head. “I want to have

your back on this, I really do…but those are horrible odds. We can’t
go through with something that experimental without at least having
decent odds to go off of. The risk greatly outweighs the potential
success and with those kind of odds it’s hardly realistic to think that
your patient will come out of this alive.”
“Well, fuck the odds!” Louis bursts in sudden frustration. He has no

filter anymore, nothing to censor him when his emotions flow freely
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and heavily through his veins. “The odds are that I should be fucking
dead with rest of my family! The odds are that I shouldn’t be alive to
even be a doctor right now! The odds are Avery’s tumor will
completely overtake her nervous system in a few months. The odds
are that she’ll be in so much undeserved pain as her body fails her. The
odds are…that Avery will die if I…if I do nothing…” His voice wavers
as emotion begins to break through his composure. “The odds are
fucking shit! So screw the odds! I’m not dead and she’s not dead and
I can save her…” He is breathing heavily and with the surge of
frustrated adrenaline he feels inside, Louis is almost certain the tears
are soon to follow if he doesn’t calm himself down. “I can save her…”
As The Chief of Surgery, Steve knows vaguely of Louis’ past trauma

with his family only because the basic details are outlined in his
personnel file. He’s never brought it up before, in fact he’s never made
any mention of it whatsoever or treated Louis any different because of
it and Louis’ always been grateful of that. But in this moment, Steve
doesn’t look at Louis like a boss to his employee, not even as a
colleague to another colleague, but solely as a friend. And Steve looks
at his friend, his scared, but hopeful friend, and he takes him by the
shoulders and pulls Louis in for a warm hug.
Louis, in turn, folds his arms around Steve, taking in deep, calculated
breaths to reign himself back in before it’s too late.
“You and this little girl…” Steve sighs knowingly, pulling back enough
to meet Louis’ eyes again.
“She’s my…” Louis starts slowly, shaking his head as he cuts his words
short. Everything in him wants to say so much, to say more, to call her
by what she really is to him.
she’s my baby
“…My patient, Steve.” Louis finishes in a quiet, low tone, managing

to bite his tongue. “She’s my patient and she deserves a fighting
chance.”
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Steve eyes Louis closely and it’s like he understands all that Louis isn’t
saying. He watched Louis cart that little baby around as an intern,
unwilling to even put her down longer than absolutely necessary and
even though Steve wasn’t aware of everything that happened, he still
witnessed the grave change in Louis after she was gone.
And anyone can see that Louis has been a complete and total mess
ever since she’s come back into his life. Steve has already proven his
awareness of this and that’s exactly why Louis isn’t on her case
anymore. Louis isn’t biologically related to his patient, not by blood
nor by marriage, but yet he has all the intense emotions of someone
who is. There’s a reason why direct family are not permitted to treat
their loved ones, there is a reason why they must keep a safe distance
during times like these, because they can’t stop. They can never, ever
stop when fluctuating emotions and resilient feelings take over, while
years of training and logic are all but lost and sacrificed. Making this
entire situation the biggest example of a grey area—a horribly grey and
complicated area. Because Louis isn’t technically Avery’s family,
bearing no familial ties to her whatsoever, although it’s so obvious to
everyone around that she is the definition of family to him. But at the
same time, he may also be the only person who can potentially save
her.
“God, this is so risky…” Steve sighs heavily, running a hand through

his hair as he deliberates to himself. It’s risky in more than one way
and Louis knows it’s a lot to ask of his Chief, but he needs Steve to
approve it. He glances down at the notes and scans one last time.
“Only one slight wrong move and she’s brain dead. You understand
that?”
“I do.” Louis nods seriously. And he really does, he remembers all the
patients they lost in the trial, patients that had way better odds than
Avery does. Louis remembers each one of their names and each one
of their faces, he remembers standing with Dr. Carmichael as she told
their loved ones that they were never coming back. The treatment is
uncertain and the risk is high but…if there is a chance, if there is any
chance, no matter how microscopic it may seem, Louis has no choice
but to take it.
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“It’s so dangerous, Tomlinson.” Steve pinches his brow as he
continues to look over the case notes, clearly stressed out. “And it may
not even work…”
but what if it does…
“I know, I know but...it’s her only hope…” Louis reminds, sounding

desperate but he doesn’t even care. “Steve, it’s her only hope of
beating this.”
Steve lifts his head, removing his glasses completely to search Louis’
fierce eyes. “Are you sure you can do this Louis, really?”
“Yes, I can do it.” Louis answers confidently—a confidence he doesn’t

know if he actually has but he will fake it if he has to. The alternative
is far more damning, doing nothing at all would go against everything
he believes in. But Louis knows that regardless of which path they take,
watching Avery die would be something that could easily make him
walk away from medicine for good. The light inside him, that hope he
carries like a torch through the worst of times, extinguished forever.
Steve pauses, exhaling heavily before gradually nodding his head.

“Inform the patient’s family of all the risks. Every single one…and if
they agree, then I’ll approve the procedure.”
“I will, I promise. Thank you, Steve.”
“But Louis promise me you’ll be professional about this—I know the

emotions run high in this case, I get that…but I need you to keep it
together no matter what happens from here.” Steve warns seriously,
underlying worry coating his tone. “I don’t want to have to suspend
you, or worse, suspend your medical license. Please be careful, ok?”
Louis nods his head, knowing all the implications of what Steve means.
He has to keep his emotions in check, he has to find some way to
temporarily detach himself from all this, from all that could so easily
be lost, and just do his job.
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For Avery’s sake.
||☤||
“Harry, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Louis
exhales as he steps outside, rounding the corner of the breezeway
between the two hospital buildings. The late afternoon air is more crisp
and cool than usual, and the area is quiet and strangely tranquil. Harry
sits unmoving on a bench—oddly, it’s the same exact bench that they
first met at all those years ago, when Louis was only giving a
disheartened stranger a hug.
Louis sort of wonders if Harry knows it’s their bench, if he knows this
is the spot that started it all for them. He must remember, there’s no
way he doesn’t, not with all that’s happened since. So much has
changed over the span of years that separate them, but yet so much
has also eerily remained the same.
“I need to talk to you about Avery.” Louis speaks carefully in tones

kept calm.
Harry doesn’t utter a single word, instead continuing to stare ahead

blankly. His position seems almost set in stone, an empty statue of
himself, hardly so much as breathing. His features are heavy, weighted
down by transfixed emotions. He’s been so spacey lately, and Louis
can only wonder where his mind has taken him. Probably a horrible
place, a terrifyingly dark and desolate state of mind that he can’t seem
to escape.
“Harry?” Louis calls again after Harry makes no response. He takes a

few steps closer, tilting his head at him in concern. “Are you alright?”
Harry blinks slowly as though registering Louis’ presence for the first
time—as though registering himself and his surroundings for the first
time in countless hours. Gradually he lifts his heavy head to Louis,
managing to meet his gaze. And there’s so much confusion swimming
in the green sea of his irises, murky with trepidation, clouded with
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uncertain hesitation. He looks so small—smaller than Louis has ever
seen him and the look of utter displacement reminds Louis of Harry’s
tragic expression nine years ago on this same bench, just as hopelessly
adrift.
Harry considers Louis for several quiet, drawn out moments, brow
wrinkled together in contemplation before he finally opens his mouth
to speak. “Can I ask you something?”
His voice is so soft and faint that it nearly gets swept up in the light
wind breezing around them. But from the way his broken gaze is
peering up at him, tremendous heartache already laden under his heavy
eyes, Louis knows that whatever Harry wants to ask him won’t be
something superficial and light. And a part of Louis doesn’t want to
risk being vulnerable with Harry again, doesn’t want to talk about
anything that isn’t vitally necessary, anything that might expose his
poorly concealed scars. It’s also terrifying to realize that there is
probably nothing Harry could ask him that Louis wouldn’t feel
compelled to answer. But despite all the confliction he feels tightening
his chest, Louis finds himself nodding his head anyway, settling down
on the lone bench next to Harry.
Not much space separates their bodies as they sit quietly together on
a bench that holds so much history, just listening to the sounds of the
city bustling around the medical center grounds. Louis doesn’t rush
Harry with his question, as he never would, he sits patiently,
welcoming the quiet stillness of the moment. No matter what Harry
asks, Louis decides that despite how much it may hurt, he is going to
be honest, not just for Harry but for himself. Because if Louis has
learned anything recently, it’s that holding in his feelings will only break
him in the long run and Louis really can’t take another break.
“How did you…” Harry pauses, chewing over his words, seeming to
not know how exactly to place them into an understandable sentence.
He twists his upper body slightly to face Louis and everything about
his facial expression looks marred. No mask set in place to soften the
presence of immense pain disfiguring his face, nothing but emotional
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wounds and imminent realities cut and scar him. “How did you keep
going—after…after your family died? How did you...live?”
Louis looks straight ahead, because if he looks at Harry any longer he

might not make it, hating how dejected and shattered he looks, tired
like he’s been wrestling demons all night long. Louis lets out a long
breath, clasping his hands together in his lap as he thinks about how
to answer truthfully. “I didn’t want to…not even slightly…” He starts,
considering his words as they leave his mouth. “Honestly, I spent so
many days wishing I had died too. I wished I never went out to the
store that night…that I stayed home with them…I wished I was gone
with every breath I took without them. It just? It felt so unfair that I
lived and they didn’t. Why me? Why couldn’t the roles have been
reversed somehow or…I dunno—I just…I couldn’t…I couldn’t
understand it…”
Harry nods faintly as though it’s all he can manage. Louis knows that
he felt similarly when Gemma died, that he feels even worse about the
concept of outliving his child. The sheer desolation of that tormenting
feeling, the magnitude of it locked within with no tangible outlet for it
to go, is enough to drive a person utterly mad. It taunts you, it eats at
you day by day, piece by piece until you can hardly recognize yourself,
let alone think about going on in a world as cruel as this.
“I kept thinking it over and over in my head, you know? I lived and
they didn’t. I lived and they didn’t. I lived.” Louis stresses, taking in a
deep breath along with the word, exhaling amongst the gentle wind.
“For some reason I might never understand, I lived. And I dunno…I
just couldn’t let it go to waste. They wouldn’t want that for me. I was
at a place where I was living as though I was already dead—I didn’t
care about anything and I didn’t want anyone to care about me
either…” He admits, thinking back to those impossibly dark and
desolate days. “And it was hard to push against that mindset—so
fucking hard…everything in me fought against moving on, but I…I
kept hearing my mum in my ear telling me to do good, to be
good…reminding me to be strong even when I know I’m not. And
my sisters…they….t-they always looked up to me—god only knows
why, but…I couldn’t let them down. So I lived for them…in honor of
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them...” He takes in another hushed breath, closing his eyes for a
moment as he allows himself to really feel them, feel his family.
“They’re with me…they’re always with me in my heart. I know that
nothing I do can ever bring them back, but I keep their memory alive
and…I…I guess I just want to make them proud. In everything I do,
I want to make them proud of me.”
“They were so...good.” Louis breathes out, sighing with word as water
heavily lines his eyes. “My mother was so good and kind and loving
and my sisters were so sweet and innocent and just…so
overwhelming good. They were the loveliest people you’d ever meet
and despite all that they had left to give back to the world, they don’t
get to live anymore, they don’t get to be good and change lives but…I
do. I can still choose to make a difference, I can pass on the good they
had and…I dunno…I guess I have to find meaning in that
somehow...or else what would be the point of anything?”
Harry reaches into Louis’ lap and takes one of his hands, interlacing
their fingers together and holding on to it tightly. With tears brimming
his own eyes, he looks right at Louis and his next words channel all
the conviction he has left in him. “You have the strongest, bravest
heart I’ve ever known.”
The saltwater lining Louis’ eyes begin to slip silently down his cheeks
and he drops his gaze down, bowing his head. Ever since he first
opened up to Harry, it’s like he can’t stop crying, the dam holding the
last pieces of him together has been utterly shattered. Why does he
constantly do this to himself—he’s supposed to be pulling away from
Harry not growing closer, he’s supposed to be maintaining appropriate
boundaries and keeping himself at a safe distance away to avoid
moments like this. Moments where he can physically feel his heart leap
right out of his chest, dismantling his entire system, all because of the
soft, but heartfelt words of one single person. Louis continually tries
his best to be guarded, but around Harry he’s nothing but an open
book. There’s almost no point in trying to fight it.
“They’re proud of you. All of them, they are.” Harry whispers, voice
filled with so much earnest sincerity. “I didn’t know your family, but I
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know that much, they’re so proud of you, Louis. I know your mum
must have been so, so good…especially since she raised someone like
you.”
Louis slowly lifts his gaze back up to meet Harry’s and Harry only nods
gently. His eyes are heavy and wet and everything about him is genuine,
riddled in sadness, but still so very genuine. Harry closes his hand even
tighter around Louis’, squeezing it in earnest. And all Louis wants to
do is bury his head in the warm crook of Harry’s neck, bathe himself
in all the comfort he’ll be sure to find there. But he somehow finds the
will to restrain himself, respecting Harry’s relationship as he promised
he would.
“I uh…I...” Louis clears his throat, swiping at his eyes with the back
of his free hand, trying to get back to why he came out here in the first
place, but he doesn’t let go of Harry’s hand. He just doesn’t want to
and it doesn’t seem like Harry wants to either for that matter. “I need
to talk to you about Avery.”
Harry nods slowly as though he expected it, remaining quiet as he

visibly steels himself up for the worst. “Ok.”
“I think I might have a plan for her.”
“What?” Harry breathes audibly, clear disbelief evident as his eyes

widen and his strong grip on Louis’ hand goes momentarily slack.
“Well—it’s quite experimental and it’s only worked on a handful of

patients in the past, but…I think it could work with a few
adjustments.” Louis begins to explain.
Harry’s expression is still riddled with confusion, eyebrows pulled

together. “But I thought—I mean…I thought you couldn’t cut it out
of her brain?”
“I’m not going to cut it out, I’m going to shrink it.” Louis tells him,
knowing just how odd it all must sound. “The process is a form of
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immunotherapy and basically I would insert a live virus—an oncolytic
virus, directly into her brain in hopes of shrinking her tumor.”
“You want to put a live virus in her brain?” Harry looks utterly faint
at the prospect, eyes somehow widening even more.
“Yes.” Louis nods his head, gripping Harry’s hand. He wants to try
and reassure Harry, registering the sheer panic on his face, but it’s hard
to reassure him when he is absolutely right to be worried. It’s
dangerous and not completely tested, who knows what might happen.
“And I know how scary that sounds—but it’s a very specific virus that
would directly target her tumor. And then I’d place radiation seeds
around it to ensure that it never comes back in the future. I know I
said at the beginning that radiation in itself typically isn’t the best
option given her young age, but this isn’t a continuous treatment, it’s
a one-time thing and—I know it’s a lot, but I promise I’ve planned it
all out.”
Harry’s eyes are still impossibly wide and he looks nearly physically ill.
“And…u-um if she didn’t have this surgery…how long do you think
she would have?”
Louis looks down for a brief moment, deliberating how to say it. “It’s
hard to say exactly…but based on the measurements of her scans, we
know that her tumor is still growing at a rampant pace…so I would
say around three to four months roughly.”
Harry sucks in a breath that doesn’t seem to go in easily, getting caught

in his throat as he stiffly nods his head. Dr. Jones had already told him
this a few days ago, but maybe there is something about Louis
confirming it that makes it all more real for him. Harry’s clutch on
Louis’ hand only tightens as his eyes fall closed once more.
“I’m not ready to lose her...” Harry whispers painfully quiet, as though
if he talks any louder he won’t be able to hold himself together
anymore. “I’m not ready to let go...”
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And Louis feels the exact same way, running his thumb gently along
the back of Harry’s hand. Louis only recently got Avery back in his life
again in any capacity, the last thing he wants is to lose her. Not only
does he not want to know what that kind of loss would do to Harry,
he’s terrified to discover what it would do to himself.
“When Gemma was dying...I…I was so mad. So fucking mad.” Harry

forces out through his clenched teeth, more tears brimming at his red
eyes. “I was mad at just about everything…but I was mad at her more
than anything else. A part of me blamed her for being sick—like it was
somehow her fault for dying…for wanting to leave me. It’s fucked
up…I know it is, but I couldn’t let those feelings go…I c-couldn’t let
her go…and maybe my anger for her kept her alive in my head…”
Harry sniffles, saltwater trailing his cheeks in growing streams. “Maybe
I was being hopeful or just stupid…but I didn’t think she would
actually die…the whole time it was happening—I don’t know? I…I
couldn’t picture it, so I refused to accept it and I fought with her every
step of the way because of how afraid I was of losing her. It was an
impossible situation for her…there were no great options but I—god,
I made it all so much worse for her.”
Harry drops his head down shaking it back and forth with
overwhelming remorse as his choked back sob finally breaks free. “F-
Fuck, I regret that…I regret everything—how I acted…I…I r-regret
it so m-much…” Harry exhales, tears trickling down. “And most of all
I regret staying mad even after she was gone…it wasn’t fair to Gemma
and it wasn’t fair to A-Avery. I made it all about me when it was so
much bigger than t-that...” His voice wavers and he has to pause just
to compose himself somewhat. “I’d give anything for another chance
to do it all again differently. To just stop—stop fighting with her, stop
ignoring the truth and just be with her—really cherish the short time
we had l-left and support her as she needed me to….I would l-love
her…I would love her unconditionally through the very e-end...”
Harry swipes harshly at this eyes with his free hand. “I don’t want to
make the same mistakes again just because I’m afraid of what might
happen. Avery deserves a fighting chance, she deserves that w-
whether…whether I’m r-ready or not.” Harry falters, taking a deep
breath as he gazes down at their joined hands. “That’s what Gemma
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would want. She’d want her to fight.” He nods slowly to himself,
before casting his head back to exhale heavily. “God, she’d be so
broken up about this—about Avery being terminally sick. She’d hate it.
But she’d hate it even more if we did nothing. If we didn’t try
fighting…” Harry whispers, righting his head back up and weakly
turning towards Louis. He looks fearful of his next words, terrified to
speak them aloud and brave the raw weight of their implications. “Do
it.”
Louis deeply searches Harry’s eyes, trying to make sure this is really
what they should do. Trying to assess whether Harry fully knows what
all this will mean. He looks so sad, so incredibly heartbroken and
frightened and Louis’ entire heart goes out to him, wishing he could
find a way to make this any easier.
“Do it, Louis.” Harry whispers again, eyes lined with unshed tears.
“Harry, I need you to understand all the risks going through with this.”
Louis answers, speaking slowly to keep his own voice from giving out
on him. He feels just as terrified as Harry looks, but he’s trying his best
to be professional and levelheaded and strong enough for the both of
them. “There is a very high chance Avery could die on the table. Her
brain could swell and she could bleed out and hemorrhage. The strain
could be too great for her body to manage and her heart could give
out completely. She could have a blood clot, or a stroke or an
aneurysm at any time during the procedure. Her body could
completely reject the virus and go into anaphylactic shock on the
table.”
Harry breathes heavily, taking in slow and deep breaths as he rakes a

hand through his unruly hair. He bites down hard on his lower lip as
more tears make their way down his cheeks. He grips Louis’ hand,
clearly using the connection to steady himself. “O-Ok…” He finally
mumbles feebly after a few minutes of internal thought.
“And even if this works and the surgery goes well, she could still wake
up with major deficits.” Louis forces himself to continue. He knows
how much it pains Harry to hear it, but he also knows that Harry needs
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to be completely aware of the possibilities. There are all very real, very
probable complications and as much as it hurts Louis to say, he knows
it’s for the best. “She runs the risk for permanently altered speech,
blurred vision, limited range of motion or even loss of memory.
Harry…she…she could wake up and not be your daughter anymore—
everything that makes her who she is could be gone if the virus doesn’t
take properly.”
Harry hangs his head, gaze trained on the floor as his free hand finds
its way back to his scalp, pulling at his hair. “Fuck…” He curses under
his breath in utter frustration and torn confusion. There’s so much
uncertainty is his tone, in his body language, the gravity of this decision
tearing him apart right before Louis’ eyes. Louis continues stroking his
palm, reminding him that he’s here for him. “But…this is really her
best shot, right L-Lou? This…it’s…it’s the r-right thing to do for her?”
Louis knows what he is really asking, he knows the understated

question laced between Harry’s words. He’s asking for another
opinion. Not from a doctor, or a professional, but from a person he
knows cares deeply about his daughter. This is so much pressure to be
placed on a parent. A single parent. Normally there are two people to
bear the weight of a decision like this, but Harry has to bear that
burden on his own two shoulders. The pressure is twice as heavy with
no one to offset the encumbrance. He just wants a little reassurance.
Louis reaches over and takes Harry’s other hand in his, trailing both
of his thumbs supportively over each of his hands. He holds Harry’s
broken, petrified gaze for a while, hoping to calm him down. “Yes. I
really believe it’s the best option for her.”
Harry takes in a few sedative breaths, not letting go of Louis’ fingers,

allowing them to center him. He stares at their clasped hands resting
on his thigh before lifting his head to look back into Louis’ eyes
openly. “I trust you.”
“Harry…” Louis starts, not wanting to pull too much rank over
Harry’s decision. “I think this is the right thing to do but um…maybe
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you should still take some time to think about it or um…consult
another specialist? I just—”
“Louis.” Harry whispers urgently, disrupting Louis’ words. His eyes

are trained on him projecting something Louis has never quite felt
from Harry before. “I trust you.”
Louis gazes back uncertainly, but all he sees in the mossy green of
Harry’s eyes is overwhelming sincerity, as though he would entrust his
entire life to Louis if he so much as asked.
“I trust you…”
||✚||
Laying in a hospital bed that’s become too familiar for comfort, Harry
cradles his sleeping daughter to his chest, stroking her back gently. He
once again couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep, becoming obsessed
with feeling Avery’s heartbeat thumping against his own. It once
calmed him down, gave him momentary peace, but now the fear he’s
been trying to keep locked inside is too great. Harry can’t begin to
imagine a world where her heart no longer beats, he can’t picture his
heart having the will to beat on its own, knowing that hers will never
thrum alongside it. And he tries so hard to hold back his tears for fear
of waking her, but a sob manages to escape his lips regardless,
shuddering his entire frame.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry.” Avery whispers softly, very much
awake as she sits up against him with a worried look pulling at her
features.
“Oh no, it’s not your fault, Munchie…it’s not.” Harry wipes his eyes
with the sleeve of his hoodie, sniffling as he tries to offer her a smile,
but it comes off painfully weak. He didn’t want to wake her, he wants
so much to be strong for her, even when he feels anything but strong.
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“You’re crying because of me.” Avery hangs her head sorrowfully.
“You’re sad because of me.”
Harry reaches to softly caress her face with his palm, shaking his head.
“I can’t be sad if I have you, Avie.”
“But a healthy me would make you happier.” Avery whispers, peering

up at him as if she might start crying too.
“Any you makes me happy, Aviebug.” Harry promises, pressing a long,

tender kiss to her temple. “Any and every version of you I can get.”
Avery wraps her small arms around Harry’s neck, nuzzling her face
against the top of his chest. And Harry holds her as close as possible,
attempting to commit to memory exactly how it feels to have his baby
safe in his arms.
“Daddy…are you scared?” She peeks up at him slowly, tiny fingers

playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “You don’t have to hide it
from me. It’s ok.”
Harry presses his lips together, trying to contain himself as he nods

slowly, eyes still glistening. He promised himself that he’d be honest
with her, he promised he wouldn’t hide himself away anymore. He
tightens his arms around her back, fighting the feeling of her slipping
away. “Yes…I’m scared, baby.”
i’ve never been more scared in my life…
“Me too.” Avery whispers back honestly, wide hazel eyes staring up at
him. “But…you know, I learned a trick about being scared.”
Harry looks down at her in silent question, eyebrows pulled together.
Avery smiles a bit then, a slight mischievous glint to her grin. “But
you’ll have to trust me.”
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“Ok…” Harry agrees slowly, not knowing what he’s even agreeing too.
And after much begging and adorably pouty faces, Avery somehow
convinces Harry to steal a wheelchair for her from the nurses’ station.
She proceeds to carefully instruct him on exactly which wires to unplug
and which ones to take, having apparently seen the nurses hook her
up many times. Harry is truly shocked, to say the least. The amount of
things she’s picked up on during her time her is incredible.
Then, on the way up the elevator, Avery swipes the badge of an

unsuspecting doctor, stealing it from their waistband easily with the
convenient eyelevel of her chair. Harry gives her a look and shakes his
head, wondering where she got such sticky fingers from, but Avery
just shrugs cutely as they ride all the way up to the very top floor. And
she really did know exactly what she was doing, because she uses the
badge she just stole to open the secured restricted access door.
“Avie, how did you know about all this?” Harry wonders in honest
fascination, as he rolls her out onto the roof of the medical center.
“I learned a few things being here.” Avery smiles easily, shrugging to

herself from under her fluffy ladybug blanket.
The view in itself is astounding, warm colors painting the Seattle

skyline like a magical work of art. There aren’t many better places to
watch the sun set than up high like this and it feels even more special
somehow, just being here with Avery.
“Ok Daddy, so one of my very best friends showed me this trick about
being scared. He said that when you’re scared the best thing to do is
scream your fears out to the world. That way they don’t have power
over you anymore.” Avery tells her father, looking up at him from her
chair. “So that’s why we’re here. Because this is the best place to let all
your fears go.”
Harry looks down at his daughter and feels his lips pull into a small
smile. He loves just how close Avery has gotten to Louis, how she
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relies on him and trusts him completely as though he’s the other parent
she always should have had. Probably because he really is.
“I’ll go first because you’re new at this.” Avery offers easily, sitting up
a bit in her chair.
“Ok, sweetheart.” Harry nods, still smiling at her softly. “Show me

how it’s done.”
Avery closes her eyes for a moment, seeming to think about what she
wants to say, but when she finally does speak Harry’s heart nearly
shatters. “I’m scared to leave my Daddy all alone…I’m scared he won’t
ever be happy again and…” Avery looks up at her father, looking
directly into his eyes or maybe even into his soul. “I’m scared
that…he’ll let Louis get away…”
Harry looks down at her at a loss, her words echoing around him in
the stillness of the wind. It never ceases to baffle him how she became
so selfless and sincere, always worried about everyone else but herself.
“Now you try it.” Avery encourages, still peering up at him. “Go on
Daddy, you can do it. Scream everything that you’re scared of.”
His heart is rattling so hard, like it’s no longer contained by his chest,
but at the very least he wants to continue to be honest. With himself
and with Avery. He’s been trying to do that more, little by little, he’s
been trying to be more transparent with her no matter how much it
may hurt. She deserves that from him. So Harry delves within himself
to uncover his fears, not that he had to dig all that deeply, they’re all
staring him right in the face each and every day.
“I’m...I’m scared to tell Louis that I love him…” Harry whispers slowly
out into the wind, feeling the words dance around him. It’s not
anything close to a shout, but it’s the very first time he’s said it out
loud. The very first time he has given the words that dance around his
head constantly, the validity to stand on their own.
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With a newfound gust of bravery, Harry sucks in a deep breath and
lets the rest of his fears rip from his chest, allowing his voice to grow
louder. “Because I’m scared of the past and I’m scared of making all
the same mistakes again. I’m scared of not being enough…I’m scared
to stop running…I’m afraid of moving on…”
But his biggest fear he doesn’t even want to utter out loud and it takes
him a moment to even gather his thoughts enough to even think it.
“And more than anything…I…I’m scared that my Avie won’t ever

have the chance to properly grow up.” Harry ends, feeling suffocated
with his newly freed reflections. The hot sting of saltwater pricks
mercilessly at his eyes as a crippling emptiness pits deep inside him.
“I’m scared she w-won’t be with me anymore...”
Avery squeezes Harry’s hand in tender comfort, lifting her head up to

look at her father. She gazes at him quietly, grounding Harry with the
warmth of her touch as he struggles to keep breathing.
“Don’t be scared, Daddy. Please. Don’t be scared…” Avery whispers

gently, tiny voice so, so soft. “I know you’re brave inside. I know it…”
Harry visibly breaks at the sound of her soft words, shoulders sagging
as he lets out the heavy sob lodged in his throat that he can no longer
contain. He holds on to her small hand tightly, grasping it for dear and
precious life. Lately he’s been so caught up and focused on the miracle
he wants, for Avery to get better, for her to be healed and whole once
again. And while preoccupied with that, Harry overlooked the miracle
she already is. From the very beginning, Gemma knew Avery was a
miracle and every single thing about her since has only proved that to
be true, from her premature birth, to her beautifully rare spirit, to all
the pure joy she brings, she’s miraculous. Harry can’t even begin to
imagine what his life would look like if it wasn’t for her, what
detrimental path he would be on if she didn’t come along like the true
miracle she is. All he knows is that this little girl saved his life.
Avery saved him.
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And no matter how much his heart yearns, no matter how much his
mind wishes, no matter how much his soul hopes…
Harry can’t save her in return.
“Daddy, I don’t want to leave you. I’d never want to leave you…but
if you lose me I don’t want you to be alone, ok? And I don’t want you
to be sad forever.” Avery mutters, fresh streams tracking down her
cheeks to match his. “I love you so much and all I want you is for you
to be happy.”
Harry shakes his head slowly, shutting his eyes tightly as the tears
continue to rage down his broken face.
“He makes you happy, Daddy. You know that don’t you? Even my
mom knew it. I know you’re sad right now because of me but…no
matter what happens, you can’t be sad forever. You love him, Daddy.
And you need him. Louis is your dream you never want to wake up
from.”
She’s known all this time—of course she has, Harry shouldn’t even be
surprised. But how is it that a nine-year-old is more in tune with his
emotions than he is?
“He helps you and you help him. I can see it…I think you were made
for each other.” Avery tells him, nodding her head a bit in confidence.
“You can’t let being scared stop you from telling him that you love
him. He’s your happy, Daddy…and you deserve to be happy.”
Harry crouches down to kneel in front of her wheelchair, hands resting

on her knees. “Oh Avie, it’s n-not...it’s not that simple, sweetheart…”
“It is that simple. It is.” Avery maintains adamantly, leaning in closer

to him. She reaches out to hold his wet face in her tiny hands, fingers
brushing away his overflowing tears. “For me Daddy, be happy for
me. Be brave for me.”
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“I’m t-trying, baby.” Harry cries openly. She believes in him so much,
even when he hardly believes in himself. “I’m really trying...”
Avery presses a long kiss to Harry’s cheek, hands still holding his head
steady as she continues to try so hard to comfort her father.
“I hurt him, Avie…” Harry continues to sob in her gentle hands. “I’ve
h-hurt him so much so many times. All I do is hurt h-him…And now
I…I…”
“Daddy, you have to forgive yourself.” Avery tells him next. “You
have to let go.”
He’s done exactly what his sister warned him not to do, allowing
himself to be constantly governed by a horrible concoction of
misplaced anger and stifled guilt. And it may not make the most sense
to someone outside of his shoes, but nonetheless, Harry has never
been able to forgive himself. Not for living after Gemma died, feeling
guilty that he was the one to live and she wasn’t. Not for leaving Louis,
carrying around all the regret and living with the consequences his
choices granted him. And perhaps because of all the fault he always
seems to find within himself, all the self-reproach that lies laden in his
heart, Harry has been subconsciously sabotaging himself, punishing
himself by steering away from all the things that could potentially make
him happy. He hasn’t truly been living, only surviving.
“I think that everything happens for a reason, you know?” Avery

thumbs Harry’s cheek affectionately. “I think there is a reason why we
moved back to Seattle. I think there’s a reason why Louis is my
doctor…I think there is a reason why he is back in our lives. We need
him and he needs us too. And maybe everything was meant to bring
you back together.”
“No Avie…no that’s…” The words get lost, Harry is lost. Lost to the
cataclysmic stammering and stuttering of concepts he refuses to
process, able only to faintly shake his head through his heavy tears.
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“Sometimes I have this dream...” Avery starts, smiling a bit at him.
“I’ve been having it all the time recently and sometimes it feels so real
that I actually think it really happened. You and Louis would be happy
together and I’d be yours—both of yours. We would be a family and
we would have never, ever been apart and we would be really, really
happy. But I dunno Daddy…maybe it wasn’t supposed to be like that
yet. It’s sad…really sad but…maybe you were supposed to be apart
for awhile…maybe you weren’t ready back then…maybe he wasn’t
ready either...” Avery shrugs, still caressing his face. “I don’t really
know why, but Louis came back in my life right when I needed
him…right when you needed him too. I know how much it hurts you
that I’m sick…how you wish it was different…but maybe it was never
meant to be different, Daddy.”
Harry listens to her, oh how he tries to listen to his sweet innocent

baby girl who has somehow always been wiser than her years indicate.
And perhaps there’s truth to her words, perhaps there’s more meaning
to all this than he dared to realize. It’s terrifyingly hard to change view
and switch up perspective in the midst of so much pain that can’t seem
to be explained. But his daughter, bless her pure heart, has the rare
ability of seeing the positive side of things, however small, she
somehow always sees the slight trace of good in the mountain of
horribly bad. It takes a special kind of bravery to be able to do that, to
be able to look beyond the pain and tragedy of right now and see the
potential for happiness and joy in the future. And Harry knows she’s
the good, Avery is at the very center of all the good in his life and all
he wants for her is that she get the chance to experience something
good too.
“I don’t think things are always supposed to make sense right

away…but if everything happens for a reason then no matter why it
happened, Louis coming back into your life isn’t an accident. And you
can’t waste it Daddy, please don’t waste it. I know it’s scary, really,
really scary, but you’re brave.” She whispers confidently, touching a
hand to his trembling heart. “Be brave.”
And then she leans in toward her father again, tiny hands still holding
onto his horribly tearstained cheeks as she presses gentle kisses to
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them exactly how he so often does to hers. “I love you...I love you…I
love you…”
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CHAPTER 15
fix it, rip the serrated seams and set it right again.
||☤||
After spending the past three hours teaching a mandatory skills lab to
the interns, Louis is more than ready to get back to his own work in
the lab. It was good to take a break, healthy even, and teaching proper
techniques to a group of eager students provided the perfect change
of scenery for him, but now he needs to get right back to it.
In the past 48 hours, Louis has made several breakthroughs with the
process of deriving the safest step by step approach for Avery’s
surgery. The methods are nearly perfect in theory, each component
thoroughly outlined, all he needs to do now is practice. There are about
a thousand things that could potentially go wrong at each and any step
of the procedure and Louis needs to be ready with a contingency for
each instance. If there’s a potential for error, Louis wants to know
about it beforehand, so he can develop a strategy to solve it before
getting to the O.R. Nothing can be guaranteed in surgery and Louis
would be foolish to believe he can account for every hypothetical
setback he might run into during the operation, but he needs to be as
prepared as possible. A procedure like this requires adaptation on his
part, to be flexible and able to redirect and adjust the plan at will
whenever necessary.
Which is why Louis’ current plan for the rest of the day starts with him
picking up the strongest, most undiluted brew of coffee the café has
to offer, and ends with him heading right back to the research lab.
“Uh…Dr. Tomlinson?”
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Louis lifts his head up from the stack of intern skills evaluation forms
he’s finishing up to see a very nervous, shy intern chewing on her lip
in front of him. He offers her a pleasant smile, setting his pen down
for a moment. “Dr. Wesley, how are you?”
Charlie has been especially cautious around him ever since Louis
reprimanded her publicly in his O.R. a few months back. The air
between them has been different ever since, not nearly as loose as it
once used to be. Even though Louis still does see her quite a bit more
than most interns because of her relationship with Niall, they still don’t
talk as much as before.
“Oh, I’m good, yeah, good...” Charlie nods repeatedly, shifting her
weight side to side on each of her legs as she adjusts her glasses. “I just
um…well, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while but um—thank
you for always pushing me to be better.” She rushes out, stuffing her
hands deep down into her lab coat. “It took me a little while, but I
think I’m starting to get what you meant now…you know about how
this job is more than just medicine and cutting and all that. Just
watching how you treat all your patients, and you know, how
passionate and caring you are about each of them—I don’t know, it’s
really changed my perspective and I’m really sorry for how I acted a
few months ago. You were right to say what you did and I’m glad that
you said it. I’ve always admired you and I just…I want you to know
that it really is an honor to learn from you, sir.”
Louis’ eyes crinkle into a genuine smile and he stands up from the desk
to round it and stand before her, meeting Charlie’s eyes seriously.
“You’re a good doctor, Wesley, a very good doctor. I wouldn’t be so
hard on you if I didn’t honestly believe that. You’re just starting out,
but you already have so much talent. I don’t know if you can see it just
yet, but I can and I know you have the potential to be great someday.
And I really want that for you, I want you to be an exceptionally great
doctor. So if anything I do or say helps you achieve that, then as your
teacher, I couldn’t be happier.”
Charlie looks touched by his words, looking up at him appreciatively.

Louis meant every single word he said about his rising mentee, and he
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looks forward to all the many years of training together still to come,
filled with moments like these where she is sure to make him proud as
she grows as a physician. He was lucky enough to become good friends
with his own mentor and he really hopes for a similar relationship with
Charlie.
“And…I may also be hard on you because you’re dating my best

friend.” Louis adds, teasing a bit as he offers a knowing smile.
Charlie laughs warmly. “I’d expect nothing less.”
“Can I ask you something?” Louis wonders, tilting his head to the side.
“Totally off the record and probably mildly unprofessional.”
She laughs again, smiling even wider as she nods. “Sure.”
“Please tell me that my bumbling nerd of a friend has told you that he
loves you already. Because he’s been so unbearable recently, I really
can’t take much more of it. He’s utterly ridiculous, that lad.”
Charlie gasps, flushing a light shade of red, apparently caught off

guard. But she soon smiles bashfully, biting her lip as she nods her
head. “Yeah he did, last night actually. Fucking finally.”
Louis’ eyes widen a bit in a mix of pride and surprise; proud that she
and Niall are working things out and happily surprised that she’s
becoming comfortable enough to curse and be more herself around
him.
Charlie quickly claps a hand over her wildly unprofessional mouth,

wide eyed. “Oh shit—I mean—I’m sorry, Dr. Tomlinson! I didn’t
mean to say that—I mean I—”
“Oh please Wesley, it’s fine, relax.” Louis grins knowingly, waving off
her useless apologies. Frankly, he curses all the time and he can
remember being in Charlie’s position, wanting to impress his boss and
always retain a level of professionalism. But what he absolutely loved
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about Dr. Carmichael is that she never put on airs and she didn’t give
a single fuck; when it was just the two of them they always spoke
candidly, no filters, and it really helped solidify their relationship both
personally and professionally. “Fucking took long enough, didn’t he?
The bastard.”
Charlie barks out an unexpected laugh, grinning back at him in

amazement and Louis can tell she’s already loosening up. “Well, he
was your friend first.”
“Well, I don’t think that quite matters now, I mean I’m not the one
who’s slept with him.” Louis teases lightly. “He’s completely your
problem now.”
“Not even once?” Charlie curiously questions.
And then it’s Louis’ turn to cackle in surprise, instantly shaking his
head. “Fuck no! He’s practically my brother, that’s gross. Plus, he’s not
nearly my type.”
“Hmm interesting.” Charlie shrugs a bit. “Well if we’re being totally

honest, I always pictured a drunken night in an on-call room between
you two, maybe as interns or something I don’t know…”
Louis gags in disgust and for once the roles are slightly reversed and
he’s the one turning a faint shade of blush. “Jesus Christ. First of all,
on-call rooms are a no, a huge no—nothing good ever comes out of an
on-call room.”
“I feel like it’s quite the opposite, actually.” Charlie disagrees

knowingly. “So much good comes out of them.”
“Ok, well you’re entitled to your wrong opinion, I guess.” Louis grins,
while Charlie laughs. “And second of all, a drunk version of me and
Niall have never and will never equate to us fucking. At most we’ve
platonically cuddled in a bath tub—an empty tub, with clothes on. So
that’s that.”
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“That’s such a shame, he’s really great—like really, really great.” Charlie
emphasizes, sighing a bit to herself. “Especially in on-call rooms.”
Louis probably could have gone on for several more years without
knowing his best mate is apparently a really good shag, but whatever,
as long as they’re both happy, more power to them. “Thanks so much
for that imagery, but I think I’ve had enough conversation about
fucking Niall for one day.”
“Are you sure? Because I could go on, give you some real imagery.”
Charlie jokes, both of them knowing she’s not really serious; there’s
no way she could get through a conversation like that without
transforming into a bright tomato.
“Oh, I’m more than positive.” Louis answers, chuckling. “But I’ve got
a serious question for you now.”
“Alright, I’m listening.”
“So…as you already know, I’m mapping out the procedural steps for
Avery’s surgery…” Louis starts, building up to the actual question.
“It’s going to be a lengthy and complex procedure and I’m going to
need an assist. My first thought was to elect a resident for the job, but
you’ve been on the case since the beginning and you know the details
inside and out, so I thought maybe I’d ask you to do it instead.”
“Me?” Charlie gapes in genuine surprise, a typical response for an

intern. Her eyes bug out almost comically as her mouth hangs open.
“Wait—really? Like, you’re serious?”
“I’m absolutely serious.” Louis nods in a reserved way, although he is

quite amused by her enthused reaction, as evidenced by the slight
upturn of the corners of his mouth.
“Oh my god!” Charlie bursts, jumping up excitedly with a wide smile.

That is until she realizes the embarrassing component of her reaction
and she straightens herself back out, schooling her face into a more
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reserved countenance. “I mean—yes. I would. Yes, of course, I’d be
honored, Dr. Tomlinson.”
“The surgery is scheduled in three days and from this point on I will
require your complete devotion to the case. We’ve got to practice every
step until we’re perfectly in sync, so it’ll be a lot of extra hours.” Louis
explains to her. “You can basically kiss your life and your on-call room
appointments with your good-in-bed-boyfriend goodbye for the next
72 hours. Think you can handle that?”
“Yes, sir.” Charlie answers confidently, looking him right in the eye,
even though she still smiles amusedly at his joke. “I can, I’m ready, I
swear. I know how much this case means to you and I promise I won’t
let you down. I’ll study and practice all day and all night, if that’s what
it takes. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“Excellent.” Louis claps his hands together, already appreciating her

sincere dedication. Charlie is a very capable woman and he has no
doubt that she’ll be a strong assist to him throughout the procedure.
“Well let’s get to it then. I’ve got tons to brief you on before we get
started and there can’t be a single mistake.”
||✚||
Harry’s lunch has gone cold.
It’s twenty minutes till one and his lunch has sadly gone cold despite
the fact that Harry has been sat at this cafeteria table for the past hour.
He knows he should eat, he knows he should at least try to put forth
an effort, but he has no real trace of an appetite anymore, nothing
matters anymore, nothing except for his daughter.
Harry’s been spending every last possible moment with Avery,

avoiding work and his responsibilities as much as possible just to be
with her. He could lose his job tomorrow and not care in the slightest;
all Harry cares about is being there for his child. And the only reason
he’s not physically with her right now is because she’s with Louis
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running tests, otherwise he’d be right there by her side, holding her
hand.
Over the last few weeks, Harry’s spent so many nights lying curled up
next to her, holding her desperately close in his arms despite how he
can feel her slowly slipping away from him with each passing day.
Harry hates it, god he hates it—he’s hardly even coping anymore. And
the worse it gets, the more his old, dormant urges start to arise, the
urge to make himself numb, dull the pain away by drowning himself
in a bottle of something utterly toxic.
But instead of drinking down his avoidance, Harry dares himself to

seek acceptance for once, not wanting to take a single moment for
granted because who knows what may come next. Not a day goes by
that Harry doesn’t feel regret well up in his heart over how deep down
in denial he was throughout Gemma’s last few months. She was here
one moment and gone the next, it all seemed to happen in a blink,
unpredicted and unplanned, leaving Harry without the proper chance
to tell her how much he loved her.
And now with Avery, Harry absolutely refuses to let any of that
happen again. He refuses to repeat the past and be caught so off guard
that there is no longer enough time to express his feelings, he refuses
to stop telling his daughter how much he loves her, over and over
again until she’s probably sick and tired of hearing him say it. But Harry
doesn’t care, because each time he says it could be the last time she
hears it and he is determined to make it count.
Every passing moment together is precious, inherently sacred despite

however they are able to spend their time. It may not sound like much,
but simply watching a movie with Avery snuggled contently in Harry’s
arms is always more than enough, spending an entire afternoon
coloring in her many, countless coloring books while they chat about
absolutely nothing is everything and more to Harry. And Harry’s arms
are covered almost to his elbows in all the random bracelets they’ve
made together, Avery repeatedly reminding him to give them out to
people who need their day brightened around the hospital. Sometimes
the two of them will go together and pass them out on the different
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floors of the medical center, attempting to make some kind of good
come out of all this.
And all the while, he tries not to focus on how every day that passes
she’s getting weaker, that much more tired. Oh how Harry tries not
break down in tears when he notices that her laugh isn’t quite as loud
anymore, that the exuberantly bubbling energy she has about just
about everything is so horribly toned down. Even though Harry knows
how much Avery is trying, her energy is falling far too low, her
expressions are dim and her movements are drawn out and greatly
slowed. And as much as it pains Harry’s heart to acknowledge in any
capacity, he’s starting to grasp how little time she truly has left.
Louis is working so hard on perfecting her treatment plan, trying to

get every component exactly right for her surgery. He tries to stay
positive when he comes by to check on Avery, but Louis is as stressed
out as Harry is, and Harry can clearly see the lines of worry on his
brow when he notes Avery’s deteriorating vital stats and the heavy
bags of exhaustion pulling under his eyes as he locks himself back in
the lab. Louis is literally working himself to his breaking point and
Harry knows that, he knows—but yet he still can’t stop his tormented
mind from worrying if it will be enough. Harry isn’t giving up, of
course not, he would never, ever give up on Avery. And he isn’t at all
doubting Louis’ vast capabilities as a surgeon, because he is utterly
brilliant in his field, but yet Harry keeps coming back to the same
damning question over and over again, unable to derive an answer.
If all this isn’t enough, if all the efforts to prolong her life somehow
fail, how will he ever come to accept it?
“Hello, Mr. Styles.”
Harry lifts his head up and is met by a warm, friendly face. “Oh
um…Dr. Payne, hi.”
“Oh, Liam is fine.” He encourages easily, still smiling. Liam has a tray
table balanced in his hands, stacked high with an assortment of healthy
options, two different salads and a green smoothie.
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“Call me Harry.” Harry reciprocates with a small smile.
Liam nods. “Enjoying your lunch, Harry?”
Harry briefly glances down at the cold, untouched container of tomato

bisque soup paired with a grilled cheese sandwich, both items still
wrapped and sealed despite the fact that he’s been sitting here for far
too long. “Um…yeah…not so much eating it…but yeah…”
“Mind if I join you?” Liam wonders, leaning down a bit. “I was

supposed to meet my boyfriend, but he got pulled into surgery last
minute and I’ve never been a huge fan of eating alone.”
“No, please…” Harry easily gestures to the empty seat next to him.
“Have a sit.”
Liam smiles again before seating himself at the table. “Thank you.”
They sit for a few moments in silence, not an awkward silence or

anything, just an easy, compatible silence as they each begin opening
up and unsealing their respective lunches.
“Nice bracelets.” Liam notes, tilting his head towards the vast array of
colored bracelets decorating Harry’s arms.
Harry smiles out of the corner of his mouth, glancing to Liam.

“Actually, I think you’re originally to blame for them. You and Zayn
gave her that bead set for her birthday.”
“Oh, right, right.” Liam chuckles with a slight nod of his head. “Well
I’m glad to see she’s hard at work.”
“Yeah.” Harry grins, looking back down at his decorated arms before
moving to hold them both out for Liam. “Pick one.”
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“Oh, I couldn’t…” Liam shakes his head as though he’s imposing or
something.
“Please, Avery would want you to have one.” Harry insists again. “If
she were sitting here with us right now, she would practically force you
to have a bracelet, in fact she attacked Niall just the other day. You’re
lucky she’s down in Radiology right now.”
Liam laughs at that, face morphing into another smile. “Well when you
put it like that…”
Harry smiles back at him, arms still held before him. “And pick one
for Zayn too. Just don’t take the purple elephant one because I’m
starting to get really attached to it.”
“You would make the best one off limits.” Liam teases a bit, before
picking a blue one made up of little turtle shaped beads and a second
one consisting of red birds, slipping them both on his wrist for
safekeeping. “Be sure to pass on my thanks to the lovely, Ms. Avery.
She did a wonderful job with these.”
“Oh, I will, she’ll love to hear that...” Harry answers as his smile begins
to fade, demeanor growing sad once again as he stares down at his
covered forearms. He can never escape the sad, anxious feelings of
fear for long, whenever he thinks of his daughter his heart pangs,
sending him spiraling each and every time. But Liam seems to pick up
on it, shifting his body towards Harry.
“Hey.” Liam doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around Harry’s

shoulders, comforting him as if they’ve always been old friends. His
hold is sturdy and solid and Harry instantly appreciates it more than
he can say. “Hang in there, ok?”
Harry stays quiet, but faintly nods his head in acknowledgement.
Liam rubs the side of Harry’s shoulder up and down soothingly. “I

know we don’t know each other all that well but…it can be really
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lonely in a big hospital like this and if you ever…I don’t know? Need
someone to talk to or just sit with you or anything…I got you.”
And it’s such a tremendous kindness, even if Harry never calls upon
Liam in the future, the fact that he offered and was willing to be a
friend to Harry, even without having a real, established relationship,
means more than anything.
||☤||
“Louis, what do you think it feels like?” Avery asks suddenly in an

oddly serious, contemplative tone.
They’ve been walking the halls leisurely, Louis pushing Avery along
the cold, hard linoleum hospital floor in a wheelchair. At first they were
just going to get new bloodwork and labs, but once that was done they
somehow ended up just touring the hospital together, Louis not in
much of a rush until the results come back and Avery perfectly happy
to talk her little heart’s content.
Louis welcomes it though, cherishing every last second of their

completely random and frivolous conversation. It’s not as lively and
high spirited as the many times in the past, but it’s just as unpredictable
as it ever was. So far Avery has covered everything from the dire
importance of identifying the true individual flavors of each colored
M&M, because she is absolutely certain they are not the same no
matter what anyone says; to insisting that ducks are, in her humble
opinion, the superheroes of all birds, because they can
walk and fly and swim and what other bird is that talented? Louis of
course entertains all of it, easily going back and forth with her, never a
gap in conversational flow.
But now the mood has shifted between them, eerily shifted, to a place
that feels heavier somehow, thickening the very air between them in
an almost ominous haze. There’s a dreadful seriousness suddenly
hanging over them and Louis can’t quite place how it got there.
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“What’s that?” Louis wonders slowly, cautiously, steering the chair
down another similarly long, vacant corridor.
She pauses, head hung as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth
before speaking again quietly. “Dying.”
Louis freezes, halting the wheelchair altogether in the dead of the

empty hallway. He’s gripping the handlebars so tightly that his
knuckles drain pale white and there’s a lump forming in his throat so
big, he nearly can’t take in any more viable oxygen.
He stares straight ahead unseeingly, hearing that one damned word

rattling around repeatedly in his suddenly blank thoughts and if he
feels this way, Louis can’t begin to imagine all the doubts and
insecurities that must be swirling through Avery’s adolescent mind. All
the unfamiliar fear and newfound anxiousness consuming her
thoughts as she faces the horrible unknown ahead of her
and…she’s nine.
She’s only nine-years-old.
These aren’t the worries of a young nine-year-old girl; at her age she
shouldn’t have to be burdened with dark, abstract concepts that are
usually reflected upon after the end of a long and full life. Avery should
be out in the world living freely as a child should, thinking about what
summer camp she wants to go to, complaining about the weekly viola
lessons her dad is signing her up for and all the time it’s going to take
to practice, wondering what teacher she’ll have in the fall when she
starts 3rd grade and if all her friends will be in her class again. She
should only be concerned about the normal, everyday activities of
a kid, but she’s not able to think of any of those things, because they’re
no longer promised to her.
Louis clears his throat, dry and cracked and raw. “I...I don’t quite know
I’m afraid…” He finally answers with his head bowed, even though he
can hardly recognize the sore sound of his own voice. Louis doesn’t
want to talk about this, he can hardly even force himself to briefly
entertain the idea of it actually happening. His gaze falls down to the
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personalized bracelet fastened to his wrist, bright and radiant against
his skin, the exact opposite of how he feels right now.
“But…you’ve seen it before right? You’ve seen it happen? Like with

my mom…”
And Louis can only nod his head weakly, a dazed expression recoating
his features. Yes, he was there in the room when Gemma died, he was
there when her heart put out its final parting beat, when her lungs
expanded and deflated for the last time. In many respects he
remembers every single detail of that moment because it changed so
much for him, it changed everything for him, but at the same time it also
feels like a painful blur. A mirage of misconstrued memories blended
together in time.
“Do you…do you think she was in pain when it happened?” Avery
continues to wonder in the quietest voice Louis has ever heard echo
from her lips, the sound of it nearly knocks him to his knees. “I think
maybe it’ll be kinda like going to sleep or something…I dunno…but
if that’s true…then I hope I have a good dream.”
but you aren’t going to die…i can’t let you die…
Louis wants to scream that she’s not going to experience that, all he
wants is for her to know that she’s going to make it, that he is going
to make sure that she lives on after this, but how can he so valiantly
claim any of that? He doesn’t hold the keys to life nor does he have
the power to ward off death. And although he’s been working so hard
on her behalf, day in and day out, even with the best laid plans, life
isn’t completely promised, complications can still arise and shit can still
happen.
“I hope you’re in my dream.” Avery tells him softly, even though Louis
is still standing motionless behind her. “You and Daddy and oh—
Benedict! I can’t forget Benny…he’d be really sad without you, I’m
sure—dream or not. I wish I could meet him…I always wanted a
dog…”
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Benny would absolutely adore her, Louis already knows that for a fact
and she would completely spoil him just as he loves to be spoiled.
Avery always loves when Louis shows her videos of him doing the
strangest of things, being himself mostly. He’s such an odd pup, but
Avery is utterly fascinated by him and every random thing he does and
how Louis wishes that he could take her out of here so that she could
really meet Benedict. In fact, Louis wishes he could take her out of
here, take her far, far away, somewhere where problems like this no
longer exist, somewhere where her body is whole and no longer sick,
somewhere where she can be free to giggle and smile and be, without
worry or pain, carefree and alive.
She lifts her head up to gaze back at him, practically looking at Louis
upside-down from her chair, but her voice is faint and uncertain when
she speaks again and it catches Louis’ heart off-guard. “You’ll
remember me won’t you? Even if…even if something happens to
me...you’ll remember?”
Louis sucks in a gasp of harsh breath, quickly rounding the wheelchair

to kneel right down in front of her. He holds a soft, affectionate palm
to her cheek and she tilts her head towards it, resting against his touch.
“How could I ever begin to forget you, Aves?”
you changed my entire life, you are my life…
Avery rests her own hand gently over his, still cupped to the side of
her downcast face. There are so many unspoken questions pouring
from her honey tinted gaze, so much so that the weight of them seem
almost to age her past her young years and it tugs harshly on Louis’
barely beating heart. “But you’ll be ok? If something really does h-
happen…you’ll be ok…right, Louis?”
how could i possibly be ok when i love you this much…
He doesn’t want to burden her or worry her with the unspoken truth
inside him, but if there is one thing Louis knows without the slightest
bit of doubt, it’s that he would not be anything near ok if anything
were to ever happened to her. And with how she’s looking at him,
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earnest and questioning, Louis can hardly take it, let alone find an
answer for her. He looks down for a moment, breaking eye contact as
a tear spills from his eye.
And after Louis still doesn’t answer—can’t possibly find the words to
answer, Avery pulls him in for a hug, gentle and impossibly warm. Her
small arms circle around his neck, clinging to him. And all Louis can
do is close his eyes and hold her against him, arms wrapped around
her narrow back. He holds her and he holds her and he holds her, not
caring about the time that’s inevitably passing, or that they’re in the
middle of the hall. All he has the strength to do is breathe her in, breath
by breath, pulse to pulse, hoping that he doesn’t rip apart when they
separate and he can no longer count the beats of her heart against his
chest.
i can’t let you go…
“Oh please be ok, Louis…p-please...” Avery whispers desperately into

his neck, hugging him so tightly, like she’s just as afraid to let him go.
“I don’t want to have to worry about you too…”
Louis feels the awful, familiar groaning of his seemingly permanently

broken heart and he pulls back enough to find saltwater in her eyes
matching the heavy tracks of his own. He thumbs the teary sides of
her crestfallen face gently, cradling her head. “You don’t have to worry
about me, little love.”
She shakes her head, more tears welling up under her eyes as her small
lips begin to quiver. “But I do w-worry about you, I do Louis. I can’t
h-help it...I’m always worried—because my Daddy is already so s-sad
about m-me and…and…I don’t w-want you to be sad t-too. I don’t
want y-your heart to be b-broken again.”
“Oh Avery...” Louis whispers tragically, tilting his head as he continues

to gaze at her, feeling an ache stronger than he’s ever known. His eyes
are stinging—burning, as more tears rage down his cheeks at
uncontrollable speeds. And he’s not even trying to stop it from
happening, not this time, not when his little baby is crying over him.
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“I just want you b-both to be ok…you h-have to be o-ok…” Avery
falls back into his arms again, sobbing heavily as she buries her face
against his shoulder. Louis knows how much she cares about Harry,
always worrying herself sick over her father, but the fact that Avery
worries about Louis too, that she cares about him on a similar level is
more than Louis can possibly process. All the time Avery is brave,
she’s aware of the reality she faces and yet she still has the courage to
be braver than her years warrant, but that doesn’t make her immune
to fear. She’s still a child, fear or no fear, and Louis promised that he’d
be brave for her, he promised he’d be strong for her no matter what,
and that’s exactly what he’s determined to do.
So Louis rubs her back, palm moving in slow, drawn out circles in a
weak but determined attempt to sooth her as her body shakes and
trembles in his arms. “We’ll be ok…” He finds himself telling her,
letting the words slip out from betwixt his lips, not knowing if it’s really
true, not knowing if it could ever be true, just wanting her to be ok, to
feel safe and secure again. And he would put her wellbeing and peace
of mind before everything, even before the truth. “Don’t worry love,
it’s all going to be ok.” Louis continues, speaking as surely and
confidently as he can muster, comforting the scared child in his arms.
She only wants reassurance, something to hold on to and settle her
mind. And Louis knows better than anyone that right now Avery
doesn’t need the extra stress nor the extra strain on her body, all of her
dwindling energy needs to go towards beating the cancer multiplying
inside her. “No matter what happens, you don’t need to worry,
darling.”
And Avery clings to him, all her limbs encircled around Louis as he
continues to soothe her, speaking gently and calmly to her ear until the
tears begin to settle. But it doesn’t stop her from keeping her arms
locked around him, refusing to let him go. And Louis doesn’t at all
mind that, because he is not quite ready to let her go either, and if he
had his way, they’d stay like this in each other’s arms forever.
||☤||
“Dr. Tomlinson!”
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Louis walks briskly through the pavilion towards the cafeteria,
completely engrossed in his stack of impossibly detailed notes that
outline the minutiae of Avery’s surgery scheduled for today. He’s spent
every waking moment of the entire last day going over and over
and over every single aspect of his plan, hardly so much as talking to
another soul apart from his diligent intern turned assistant, Dr. Wesley.
Whether locked behind the doors of the lab or walking from place to
place around the hospital, Louis’ head is always buried deep in his
notes, reviewing some aspect of the procedure to make sure he knows
every step backwards and forwards and everything in between, trying
to prepare for the unexpected and foresee the impossible. It’s one
thing to know the scans and charts, memorizing each of them frame
by frame, to deal with lifelike replicas and perfectly scaled models, but
once confronted with the real tumor face-to-face, everything and
anything can change in a moment’s notice and Louis needs to be one
hundred percent ready.
“Dr. Tomlinson! Hey!”
Louis flicks his eyes up from his notes distractedly, not stopping his
movements as he vaguely registers the voice calling his name. “Oh
come on, not today…”
“Louis, stop! I have to talk to you!”
“Yes, yes, what is it—” Louis turns around to answer the insistent male
voice beckoning him and is both disappointed and irritated that the
man raging before him is none other than Jesse Ryland. “Oh, for fuck’s
sake…” He grumbles under his breath, closing his notes with a heavy
sigh.
“It’s all your fault!” Jesse dives right into it, not bothering with
pleasantries and small talk as he angrily begins yelling in Louis’ face.
“Everything was fine before you came along!”
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“Get out of my face, mate.” Louis promptly turns back around and
keeps walking in his intended direction, unbothered. He doesn’t need
this shit today, he has enough to think about—too much as a matter
of fact. In a manner of mere hours, he is going to perform a risky,
basically experimental surgery, on a little girl that means more to him
than he can put into words. He does not have the time or the patience
or even the mental capacity to entertain this shit today.
“You just had to swoop down and play the hero.” Jesse continues,
taunting Louis by repeatedly hindering his path, despite Louis’
determination to walk around him. “Who can even compete with
that?!”
“Mate. Seriously. Stop, ok?” Louis groans, holding up his hands in

exasperation. He turns around in the opposite direction just to avoid
any more confrontation. He doesn’t know why Jesse is laying into him
at this very moment, at this early time of day, neither does he care. All
Louis wanted was a fresh cup of coffee before hightailing it right back
to the lab. “I don’t have the time.”
“No, no I will not stop!” Jesse persists, jogging ahead to stand right in
front of Louis. “This is my life that you fucked up!”
Louis’ avoidant attitude is rapidly shifting towards agitated, and it’s

becoming harder and harder to bite his tongue any longer as his temper
begins to flare up. “Look, why don’t you go put all the energy you have
invested in hating me, into supporting Harry and Avery instead.” He
suggests, narrowing his eyes. “Honestly, where the fuck have you been
anyway? Not that it’s any of my business, but—”
“Oh, don’t taunt me now!” Jesse spits irritably, growing even more
flippant. “You know good and well why I haven’t been around
anymore!”
At that Louis pauses to frown, furrowing his eyebrows tightly together

in confusion. “Uhh?”
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“God, I’m sure you were over the fucking moon when Harry told you
that we broke up. I can just picture your pretty, smug face.” Jesse
laughs sardonically without humor. “You’ve wanted it from the
beginning.”
Louis can only blink back at Jesse in disbelief, hardly believing what
his ears claim to have heard. His mind is suddenly reeling, going into
complete overdrive as his brain begins to process this new alleged
information. But Louis couldn’t have possibly heard Jesse correctly,
right? Maybe he wasn’t actually listening close enough, maybe he
simply imagined it, or maybe, just maybe Louis didn’t mishear a thing.
“You broke up…”
“This playing dumb act is getting so old.” Jesse grunts in irritation,

shoving his hands through his dark disheveled hair. “You know exactly
what you’re doing! You know what you do to Harry! You know the
effect you have over him!”
“What I do to Harry…” Louis echoes in genuine confusion, pulling

another perplexed face as he tries to conceptualize what exactly he is
hearing.
“Fuck, you’re so annoying!” Jesse groans, throwing his head back,

clearly frustrated. “You have a way of just pushing all my buttons and
getting right under my skin! I hate it—I really wouldn’t have done it if
it wasn’t for you. I swear it never would have happened.”
“…Done what exactly?” Louis questions slowly, eyes narrowed.
“Cheated!” Jesse yells as though it’s incredibly obvious and well-known

information. “I would’ve never cheated on him if it wasn’t for you!”
Louis twitches as he blinks back at Jesse in what feels like slow motion.
His body seems to exist in an alternate dimension of reality as his
vision blurs to a heated red and buzzed static clogs his ears.
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“You suck up all of his attention just by existing! And you don’t even
have to try!” Jesse laughs self-loathingly, continuing on with his rant.
“Things I had to work for years to get out of him, he just hands right
over to you on a silver platter. I had no idea who you were before all
this, but hell, he sure did. And he never forgot. He may not have ever
told me, but I knew there were things he kept from me. Once he saw
you again, I never stood a chance.”
“What. The. Fuck!?” Louis bursts furiously, trying but failing to

restrain his burning hatred for the god-awful man standing before him.
He is fuming, literally and physically fuming, so much so that he
wouldn’t be surprised if stream started shooting from his ears. The
only positive thing is that the pavilion they’re standing in is completely
empty at this early hour. Good thing, because Louis feels like he is
about to fucking lose it.
Jesse blinks guiltily at Louis, mouth falling open slightly. “He didn’t
tell you…”
“You son of a bitch!” Louis shouts irately, involuntarily dropping his

stack of notes to the ground in order to roughly shove Jesse down to
the ground right with them. He doesn’t think, he doesn’t process,
acting completely on raging impulse. And watching Jesse’s clearly
shocked and caught off guard face as he hits the ground hard, has got
be one of the most satisfying feelings in the world.
“Don’t you think he has been through enough?! What the fuck is
wrong with you!” Louis yells in unfiltered anger, standing over Jesse’s
crumpled body, utilizing every bit of strength to not pounce down and
beat the living shit out of him. Louis has no doubt that it would
definitely be an even more satisfying feeling, to slam his fist against
Jesse’s jaw and hope to god it shatters into dust, to make him feel even
an ounce of pain. But no matter how tempted, Louis would never risk
anything that could jeopardize Avery’s surgery. Punching Jesse in his
deserving face as hard and frequently as Louis wants to, could
potentially damage his steady, surgical hands, hindering him from
operating. Plus, there’s an even more likely—practically guaranteed
chance that he’d be suspended from practice, as well as arrested.
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So instead Louis bends down to yank Jesse upright by the collar of his
once sleekly pressed button up shirt and shoves him backwards against
the nearest wall. Jesse yelps as Louis pins him against the wall, but
Louis doesn’t at all care, getting right up in Jesse’ face.
“Why the hell would you put him through that on top of everything
else?” Louis grits, both hands gripped firmly to Jesse’s collar, pressing
against his throat.
Jesse’s grey eyes are wide and panicked, looking everywhere but back
into Louis’ icy, narrowed ones. “I…uh…I d-didn’t mean…to…”
“Ooh, you didn’t mean to, well that just makes it all better doesn’t it?”
Louis smiles in any way but pleasant, tone dripping with disdainful
mockery.
Jesse tries to wiggle around in Louis’ hold, but it’s no real use, not with
the vice grip Louis’ got on him. “N-No…it…it was an…a-accident…”
“Right, cuz everyone accidentally fucks other people behind their

fiancé’s back. Of course.” Louis spits sarcastically, leaning in closer as
he gives more pressure to his forearm wedged against Jesse’s neck until
Jesse squirms again. “You’re a weak fucking asshole and Harry has
always deserved better.”
A fleeting moment of bravery seems to come over Jesse and he locks

his eyes onto Louis’, sneering at him in a knowingly taunting way.
“What…and you’re better?”
Another surge of anger waves over Louis and he almost loses control
and completely snaps. He shoves Jesse harder against the wall,
gradually shaking his head as he blows out a stream of tense air. “I
fucking swear to god, if I didn’t have the most important surgery today,
I would beat you within every inch of your life.” Louis grits through
his teeth, jaw clenched. “I have never in my entire life wanted to hurt
someone with my bare hands as much as I want to hurt you...” Louis
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continues to shake his head, glaring at Jesse heatedly. “But you aren’t
even worth it.”
And with all the reserve he has left, Louis finally releases Jesse,
watching him cough and sputter as he hunches over his knees to catch
his breath. Louis takes in his own deep calming breath, exhaling out
all his malevolent urges. After marginally settling himself down, he
flicks his gaze back over to Jesse with only disgust written in his eyes.
“I don’t ever want to see you around Harry again and don’t even think
about so much as looking in Avery’s direction. Hurt them again and I
promise I won’t hesitate to fuck you up.” Louis pledges, meaning his
threats with every last bone in his body.
Jesse has the audacity to attempt to look unfazed, even with his body
crumpled over itself as he continues to gasp for breath.
Louis bends down to gather his scattered notes from the floor, but the
simple movement seems to startle Jesse. And as Louis begins to right
himself back up, he pump fakes his fist as if he’s decided to hit him
anyways, causing Jesse to not only flinch, but fall backwards on his ass
as he lets out a cowering whimper.
“That’s what I thought.” Louis smirks, standing over Jesse in disdain.

He turns on his heel to walk away with his head held high, throwing
his last words over his shoulder in a snarl. “Little punk ass bitch.”
And Louis makes it all the way to the far elevator doors before it truly
hits him what all this means, realization dawning and halting him in his
tracks. “Oh my god, Harry—I have to go find Harry...” He exhales to
himself, suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to find out if he’s
ok.
Louis has no idea how long ago Harry found out about his ex-fiancé’s
infidelity, but he knows how hard it must have hit him. On top of
everything else. And since moving here, Harry has virtually no one else
to really rely on for support when it comes to these things. The more
Louis begins to think about it, the more Harry’s behavior in the past
few weeks begins to make perfect sense and soon, before he realizes
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it, Louis’ casual walk has turned into a full out sprint, racing through
the hospital as fast as his legs will carry him. He nearly knocks over an
orderly holding a tray of water cups and as he rounds the next corner,
Louis almost tramples a whole gang of med techs coming on shift. He
meets their confused and startled faces with ample apologies, but he
doesn’t slow down or stop in the slightest. And once Louis finally gets
to the right floor, he’s still not in the clear, making a very near,
unexpected call with an idle crash-cart and coming way too close to
nose-diving right into an empty gurney left in the hall.
The nurses behind the station all give him the strangest of looks,
pausing what they’re doing until one of them speaks up. “Dr.
Tomlinson? Are you…alright?”
“Hi—no…I mean yes—fine—I uh…shit—have you seen Harry?”

Louis asks hurriedly, body nearly slamming against the side of the
nurses’ station wall as he skids up to it, hardly stopping in time.
“Oh…um?” Julie, the charge nurse, continues to eye him curiously,

pausing her notes. She sits up in her chair and takes her gaze off of
Louis to glance around briefly. “He was just here a few minutes ago,
they took Avery up for pre-op scans a little bit ago and I think he
mentioned going for a walk?”
“A walk?” Louis echoes curiously.
“Mhmm.” Julie nods her head. “He seemed really tense earlier—so
anxious, poor thing. I hope he’s alright. He could use the fresh air.
He’s probably around the eastside pavilion, I think he likes it over
there.”
“Right…” Louis nods hastily, already stepping away from the station,
set to take off down the hall at a full sprint. “Thanks, Julie!”
||✚||
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The cool spring wind whips around the open breezeway, cutting
between the tall hospital buildings and nipping at Harry’s chilled skin
as he walks about the grounds. Paces, actually; what he’s doing could
hardly be considered simply walking by any standard. With a
lukewarm, three-hour-old coffee in hand, Harry paces to and fro,
going absolutely nowhere but still unable to stop moving. He swears
that he must have tracked a clear path into the pavement from the
amount of times his heavy feet have shuffled across it in useless circles.
He’s jittery, he’s anxious, and frankly, he’s a total mess of nerves and
tension. The coffee probably isn’t helping his frazzled and jumpy state
of being, but it hardly matters because it doesn’t change the fact that
Avery is scheduled for surgery in a manner of hours.
He could lose her in a short, fleeting manner of hours.
It’s not a concept that he is taking particularly well, how could he?
How could anyone for that matter? It’s exponentially terrifying, but
the fresh air is somewhat good for his fogged head and walking around
definitely beats sitting in Avery’s empty hospital room staring at the
blank, unforgiving walls while she gets her final pre-op scans. Harry
was driving himself utterly mad doing that, left to his own thoughts,
trapped by his own mind, permitting fear to rise up like a monstrous
wave of panic set to wipe him out.
It’s awful—god, it’s so fucking awful. Harry can barely stand another
minute of what feels like perpetual uncertainty. The surgery hasn’t
even begun, it won’t for several hours still and yet he already can’t take
it anymore. The waiting, the not knowing—all of it. If only there was
a way to skip past this, avoid all the crippling worry and the steady,
rising nausea and the undying panic and fucking bullshit that comes as
a packaged deal with this horrible situation.
“Harry!”
Harry completely startles, jumping and nearly dropping the remainder

of his coffee to the pavement as he hears the clear calling of his name.
He turns slowly on his heel to see Louis jogging out from the
automated sliding doors of the hospital.
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“Louis?” Harry furrows his eyebrows, alarmed by the unusual urgency
coating Louis’ tone. His expression is serious, yet solemn as he
approaches and Harry immediately thinks the very worst. “What—are
you—is Avery ok? Is the surgery still—”
“Jesse cheated on you.” Louis blurts out abruptly, eyes searching

Harry’s at a loss. He hasn’t presented his words as a question, but his
expression silently asks for an answer.
Harry blinks in surprise, holding Louis’ gaze for as long as he can,

trying to decide on the right response, on any response really, but
nothing comes to him. That was the very last thing he ever expected
to come from Louis’ mouth today of all days, and Harry doesn’t know
how Louis knows or why he knows, but he must admit that he’s caught
off guard by it. Slowly, Harry breaks eye contact in favor of looking
down at his scuffed boots.
“That goddamn bastard!” Louis hisses venomously under his breath,

taking Harry’s silence as further confirmation of the truth. He seems
to get mad all over again, looking positively livid with his arms
clenched tightly at his sides, body held horribly tense. His eyes are fiery
with rage as he looks back over his shoulder towards the hospital
doors, seeming to deliberate with himself. “God, I can’t fucking
believe him! Son of a bitch—you don’t even know just how badly I
just want to go back in there and fuck that man up…”
Louis sounds so protective, genuine anger drenching his voice as he

seems to take it upon himself to defend Harry’s honor. It’s the kind of
person he is really, always ready to fight for anyone who’s been
wronged or hurt. But Harry gradually shakes his head, dry, mumbled
voice hardly audible over the sound of the whipping wind. “He’s not
worth it…”
“I know but…” Louis gradually returns his gaze back to Harry’s face,
his expression that was just so hard and frigid with wrath, impossibly
softens to concern. His gaze is so warm and openhearted, Harry can’t
even handle it for more than a few seconds, looking down again. Louis
places a gentle, comforting hand to Harry’s shoulder as his voice also
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softens incredibly. “Harry, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, you
deserve so much better.”
Harry can’t seem to make himself meet Louis’ eyes again. He wants to,
he really does and it’s almost impossible to keep his eyes off of him
for too long. But Harry also doesn’t want to risk his own involuntary
reaction to the gentleness he knows he will find once again in Louis’
eyes. It’ll be too much. It’s always too much, knocking the very breath
from Harry’s lungs time and time again.
“You’re already going through so much as it is…and I know finding

out about it couldn’t have been easy to deal with…I hope you’re ok
and I’m um…I’m just—so sorry.” Louis apologizes, words as sincere
as the unwavering look in his eye. The hand he has rested on Harry’s
shoulder is practically singeing Harry’s skin, the touch so magnetic.
“When did you find out?”
“...The night I came over to your house.” Harry lifts his head slowly,
biting at his lip anxiously.
“But...but why didn’t you tell me? You came over and…and—Harry?”
Louis expression is riddled with confusion, taken aback as he seems to
recall everything that happened, frame by frame. “Why did you come
over that night?”
don’t run, don’t run, don’t run
Louis is looking at him expectantly, his piercing blue eyes are still so
soft and open. And Harry wants to tell the truth, he wants to spill a
million truths, but he’s also utterly terrified of what the truth will bring.
The old tendencies hardwired into his inner core attempt to take over
like some kind of sympathetic fight-or-flight response. He wants to
run, he wants to scream, he wants to hide away from it all.
come on, be brave…
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“Why did you come to me, H?” Louis asks again quietly, taking a small
step forward. His voice is nothing but gentle, and his eyes are
beautifully transfixing, compelling Harry to speak only truths.
“Because you’re home to me.” Harry admits, the words lingering softly
in the air between them, rushed out of Harry’s mouth naturally without
even needing to think much about them.
Louis’ lips part marginally in what appears to be surprise, as his breath

hitches a slight inhale of sharp breath.
“Oh fuck…” Harry curses at himself, walking around in small circles

as he realizes what he just admitted, like his heart suddenly has a
mouthpiece of its own. “I don’t know how to do this or if I’m ready
to do this—I don’t know what to say or how to say it…I…” He
rambles on, pacing the sidewalk with his hands anxiously racking
through his disheveled curls. “I know it probably shouldn’t be this
hard—or I don’t know? Maybe it should be…but I um…I…”
be brave, be brave, be brave
Why is it always so fucking difficult for him to just be honest? In the

moment, in the very thick of it all, faced with a sudden opportunity to
be utterly transparent with Louis about how he feels for once, Harry
is nearly overcome with fear. He had already decided that he was going
to finally express his true feelings to Louis, thanks to a courage
borrowed from his brave daughter. But he wasn’t going to do it now,
when Louis is set to operate on Avery’s brain in mere hours.
No matter what happened after the surgery, Harry promised himself

he would tell Louis how he felt, no holding back, just rip off the
fucking Band-Aid already. The last thing Harry wants to do is distract
Louis from being able to focus on the surgery or jinx it or something,
but now that he’s already started, he can’t just leave it there, dangling
unfinished between them, it’s now or never. And yeah, this very well
may be the worst possible timing for a conversation like this, and he
has no idea what he’s about to say, but Harry has learned that
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sometimes, the most unplanned confessions mean the most because
they’re spilled from so close to the heart.
Harry pauses his anxiety-ridden steps, steeling up a mighty breath

before he looks up and forces himself to lock onto Louis’ gentle,
calming eyes, entirely unguarded, withholding nothing. And that’s
when he feels it—fuck does he feel it. Harry feels the brunt, unbridled
weight of everything he’s been holding back for the entire decade since
the very first time he ever laid eyes on the wonder that is Louis
Tomlinson.
He feels the familiar warmth of their initial relationship, an easy,

indisputable warmth that came so naturally to each of them, supported
by a rare sense of safety and reassuring peace that never failed to
encompass it. To connect with someone as quickly as they did, as
deeply as they did, there’s absolutely nothing else like it. Utterly
wonderful in every way, yet intense to a degree that almost doesn’t feel
controllable, taking them both by storm.
But then Harry also feels the pain that stretched their relationship too
far, the raw ache of unprepared loss that kicked him down to his lowest
point. He remembers the exact sharp pang of loneliness from trying
to isolate himself away from all feeling, numbing himself down to a
shell of a person until all that was left was the devout urge to run and
hide away. And when he finally did run, when he finally gave into his
own selfish avoidance, the guilt that followed nearly ate him alive.
There was shame in it, remorse in it, but none of what he felt after the
fact will ever make up for what his choices subjected Louis to go
through.
“Louis...” Harry whispers his name out tragically, breathlessly, shaking

his head without words as hot tears already begin to burn harshly at
the corners of his eyes. “Lou, I—I am so sorry. Fuck, I’m so s-sorry.
For everything…for how I treated you, for the terrible shit I said—
you never deserved any of that, you n-never deserved—” He cuts
himself off, frustrated with how much he needs to say, but not being
able to say it fast enough or well enough or fuck. And the tears aren’t
helping, tears that are teetering on the verge of becoming full on sobs,
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lodged wetly in his already closed up throat. “I s-shouldn’t have ever
l-left you…I…I shouldn’t have left things like I d-did…it was a-awful
and I h-hurt you—I know I hurt you so m-much and now I…I just…I
f-feel like—f-fuck…”
Louis takes a slight step closer, and the nearing proximity of his body
to Harry’s is all he longs for, all he needs, but not all that he deserves.
“Harry, hey…it’s ok—”
Harry shakes his head even more sporadically, swiping at each of his
eyes. He didn’t expect himself to react so emotionally, so suddenly, but
considering the year he’s had and the years that came before it, it was
practically bound to happen. “No, don’t s-say it’s ok, it’s n-not ok…it’s
not…I…I feel like I basically r-ruined your life…a-and I don’t even
know how to say how s-sorry I am.” He sobs, sniffling in an attempt
to breathe as his shoulders start to shake. “You l-lost your entire
family…a-and…and I d-did that to you a-again…I left y-you alone
again—you were b-barely ok…you w-were…you were already h-
heartbroken and I l-left you and I h-hate myself for that—for causing
you any more p-pain. You were right a-about me Louis, you were right
about a-all of it…I am just a s-scared, selfish coward and…I do run
from e-everything just because of how afraid I am…but I d-don’t want
to be. I w-want to be—god…” Harry’s cries get the best of him and he
looks up, fighting against himself. “I want to be b-brave and I want to
b-be strong. For Avery…for you...b-because…I…because…”
be brave, be brave, be brave
Harry roughly scrubs his hands over his face, dragging his palms down
his wet skin as he tries to breathe deeply. It’s hardly working but he
tries again and again, refocusing his thoughts, while attempting to
make sense of the mess floating around in his head. And in the process
he somehow manages to get ahold of his flowing tears, at least for
now.
“I’ve been trying to figure it out—trying to make sense of how I really

feel about you.” Harry tries to explain, finding it hard to verbalize his
emotions when they’re overwhelming him to such an immense degree.
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“I have so many feelings and memories and emotions tied up in you
and around you and…I just couldn’t make sense of it for the longest
time… I wasn’t ready to make sense of it, I don’t think…” He reflects,
being more transparent and real with himself than he ever has been in
his life. “Because you were a huge part of one of the darkest points of
my life, and whenever I thought about that time, all I could feel was
pain and loss and…it hurt too much. So I’ve been running from
it….and I don’t know—somehow I thought starting over would fix
it—fix me…so I ran and I tried not to ever look back. But it didn’t fix
me…it really didn’t, Louis. It only made everything worse.”
“And I kept telling myself that I only left because you wanted me to
go...because I was a burden to you and...because we were always meant
to say goodbye…as though it was the best decision for both of
us…but I knew that wasn’t true. Deep down…I k-knew…” Harry
admits despondently, shaking his head as his emotions begin to rise
back up again. “But I still kept telling myself anything to feel better
about leaving, to mask the guilt of l-leaving you behind…and
eventually I really s-started to believe it. I pretended to forget, forced
myself to erase the truth and I made you into something you never
were just to make the days pass easier…b-but really…you’re home.”
Harry breathes out heavily around the word coming straight from his
heart, feeling every sense of its meaning as he gazes into the serene
blue of Louis’ peaceful eyes. “That’s what you are to me. You were my
only light throughout that horribly dark time. And this w-whole time
I’ve been fighting coming back home…r-running away from home.
But…you’re the warmth…and the comfort, the safety…it’s you. It’s
always been you, Louis. Everything I ever knew lives in you.”
Louis’ gaze is wide, mouth held slightly open with no sound coming
out of it. A heavy pool of saltwater is building under each of his eyes,
threatening to begin falling down his cheeks at any moment. And
Harry knows that it’s a lot to take in at once, but now that he’s started
to finally tell Louis the truth, he feels like he could never, ever stop.
Harry has so much more on his heart that he needs to say and the
more he talks, the more he releases, the bolder he feels and there’s
nothing he wants to hold back anymore.
“Louis, I think about you like a continuous stream of consciousness,

even when I’m not with you, my thoughts somehow always drift right
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back to you. I wake up thinking about how soft and thoughtful your
eyes are, your gentle blue eyes that never seem to miss a thing…and I
fall asleep dreaming of your sweet face, one look from you and I’m in
perfect peace. And your laugh—god Louis, your laugh…I think it’s
the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard and I could listen to it for as
long as I live.” Harry confesses wholeheartedly, lips slowly spreading
into a watery smile. “Your arms are the safest place I’ve ever been; I’ve
never felt more secure than when I’m surrounded by the strong hold
of your arms around me. And you’ve got a heart like no other, brave
and fiercely kind, and I’m so in awe of the courageous spirit that
captures you.”
“Everyday I find myself completely revolving more and more around

you and it’s like? It’s like…I’m on fire. I’m on fire all the time when
you’re near me and it’s overwhelming and terrifying yet wonderful all
at the same.” Harry describes breathlessly, more unfallen tears building
behind his eyes. “I was kidding myself to think that there was nothing
between us anymore. Kidding myself trying to ignore the fact that
when I first came back here and saw you again…my heart stopped. It
completely stopped. It only took seeing your face one more time to
fling me right back to the past in a single second. All those memories
and things I’ve been running from, hit me at full force with just one
look into your eyes…and time has done absolutely nothing to erase
how I really feel about you, no matter how much I thought it would.”
Harry lets out a new weighted breath, shaking his head at another loss.
“God—and it’s so hard because while I feel all this for you…I can’t
stop thinking about how much I really fucked up…how much I know
I irreparably hurt you and all the scars you must have...but no matter
how hard I try to let you go…I still can’t help but…l-love you…”
Harry’s already weak voice falls to a whisper, thick tears rolling down
the curves of his face. Louis looks startled by the words, seeming to
hang off of Harry’s every breath. And all Harry wants to do is say it
again, stronger this time, louder, as loud as he feels it thumping and
running constantly through his very veins. “Louis, I love you and it’s
the only thing I know for certain anymore. I love you…I’m in love
with you…I j-just…I love you.” He confesses repeatedly through
overwhelming tears, saying the sweet refrain over and over aloud
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because he can’t find it in him to stop. Now that it’s finally free and
out of his mouth, Harry never wants to stop.
And Louis’ face breaks enough for his own tears to fall in steady
steams along his cheekbones. He bites down on his lower lip to keep
from fully sobbing, but his emotive eyes don’t dare shift away from
Harry’s.
“I have always loved you…more than I ever thought possible and I

know I should have told you sooner and properly apologized sooner—
I should have done so many things differently. And I’m sorry that I
lost myself for so long…I’ve been scared to say it and scared to admit
how I feel…but I’m not scared anymore and that’s because of you and
because of Avery. You make me brave and you make me strong…you
make me feel…” Harry breathes out, seemingly for the first time. “Feel
things I don’t want to…feel things I need to. You make me feel alive
again even when I thought my heart was dead. You were there for the
hardest times of my life—I lost my balance when I needed it most, but
you were always there to steady me…and when I’m with you…I’m
just…I’m home.” He repeats again, knowing that it is the truest
statement he has ever made. “And I know you’ve said that you aren’t
strong enough for this, but you are the strongest person I have ever
known. You endlessly inspire me Louis…everything about you
inspires parts of me I never knew existed and I’m left more and more
in awe of you every single day. There’s not a damn fucking thing that
makes sense in this life…and I never know what I’m doing…but I do
know, now more than ever, that I need you to survive it. I need you,
Louis…”
“H-Harry…I…” Louis stutters, sounding utterly overwhelmed as he

speaks for the first time. He looks genuinely shell-shocked, breathing
heavily with his mouth still slightly held open, expressive eyes leaking
more silent tears. He blinks a few times, shaking his head at a loss as
he tries to form words that don’t seem to be coming.
“No, don’t. Please don’t, Lou…” Harry whispers desperately before

Louis can say another thing, taking a few steps closer to him. “Don’t
tell me I’ve already ruined things for us, don’t say it’s too late…not
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yet…not right now…I…I can’t handle it—god, fuck, I really c-can’t…”
He ends up letting out a wet, watery laugh, not because there is
anything particularly funny about any of this, but because he truly is
an overwhelmed mess and this doesn’t even feel real. His emotions are
so out of whack and overstimulated that he can hardly react normally.
“Maybe if I loved you right the first time, then I wouldn’t need a
second chance. But I d-didn’t…and I couldn’t be more sorry for that.
Whether by some miracle you still feel something for me or even if
you don’t and you fucking hate me, I don’t want to know your answer
till after—I didn’t even want to tell you how I felt before the
surgery…I was going to wait and figure out how to say it properly so
that maybe it would make more sense…but I don’t know? Maybe it’s
better that you know…maybe I would have completely lost my nerve
or something…I don’t know—fuck—but now that I’ve said it and you
know...I don’t want to hear your answer yet.”
Louis stands stunned, expression drenched in so much confusion, they

could both probably drown in it. But god, does he look beautiful,
breathtaking and absolutely gorgeous, staring back at Harry with eyes
as blue as The Pacific shoreline, and all Harry wants to do is close the
last breadths of space between them and seal his lips to Louis’ in a kiss.
He wants to pull him in close, flush to his chest, and bury his tongue
in Louis’ mouth until they both get utterly lost in it, so lost that
somehow they’re found. Harry wants to gently cup Louis’ face
between his palms, trail his fingers along his temple and kiss him with
all the passion and want that’s been forced to lie dormant under their
charged skin for the past decade.
A sudden beeping begins to sound from one of Louis’ pockets, but

Louis doesn’t even seem to notice it in the slightest, eyes locked steady
with Harry’s as though he’s afraid to so much as move. Harry can’t
even gauge how Louis is reacting to all that he’s just said, the only
tangible emotion readable across his stunning features is shock.
“I must sound so fucking ridiculous right now—the least eloquent I’ve

ever been in my life but I…I just want you to know—or I want you to
understand that no matter what happens today, I’ll still feel the same.
I’ll always feel the same about you and I’m not taking it back or backing
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down from my feelings this time.” Harry promises earnestly, unable to
stop the water from trickling quietly down his cheeks. “And I’m totally
underprepared for what that might mean but…I don’t care. I really
don’t care because I am completely and totally in love with you, Louis
Tomlinson.” Harry’s lips spread gently, words whispered like soft,
billowy clouds, earnestly pouring directly from his defenseless heart.
“I always have been...”
Louis’ eyes, wet and shining, never once leave Harry’s, but his breath
hitches again and it’s truly the only tangible indication Harry can gather
that Louis is still breathing. He has yet to silence his ringing pager, yet
to even move, held captive under Harry’s soft, loving gaze.
“And as long as it takes…” Harry begins to pledge, putting his entire

soul and his entire heart on the line, leaving himself vulnerable and
exposed to Louis alone. “I promise I will prove my love for you.”
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CHAPTER 16
fix it, breathe new life back into it.
||☤||
Louis is hardly watching where his legs are carrying him, barely
cognizant of the path he’s somehow found himself taking. One step
at a time, he stumbles through the halls of the hospital feeling like he’s
going through some sort of fever dream. His mind is split between two
different places and neither of them is the present.
Minutes ago Louis’ heart and mind were swept up into a sudden
whirlwind, nearly causing all elements of time and space to stop
altogether. Everything happened so fast—the confessions, the tears,
the declarations, the promises—that now it hardly feels like it really
happened, everything swirling around in his overloaded head in
broken fragments. Sort of like having a hazy, distant dream that can’t
quite be reached, slipping just past the realm of tangible memory. The
only reason Louis knows that it really did just happen is because his
heart rate is still racing out of control and key words and phrases keep
jumping out at him at random.
i am completely and totally in love with you, louis tomlinson
But there wasn’t time to react, to feel—not when his pager started
beeping emergently. Louis was in no way prepared for any of the
words Harry spoke, but god does he want to stop and dwell on all the
soft, sweet words Harry said to him out there under the breezeway.
Pause just to piece them all back together, pick apart every last line in
his head, replay the emotion frame by frame, relive through the sound
of passion growing strongly in his voice.
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But there’s not any time for that either, not when the page has
something to do with Avery. Once Louis had finally pulled himself
together enough to snap out of it and realize his pager was going off,
he had no choice but to dart right back into the medical center, doing
his best to push everything else out of his mind. But he’s not even had
the chance to catch his breath, feeling like everything around him is
moving far too fast for him to keep up with.
And compiled with the mountain of worries Louis already had on his
plate for today, it’s safe to say that he’s not standing on the most stable
ground, mentally speaking. Which is definitely not a good place to be,
especially not as a neurosurgeon. A neurosurgeon set to operate in a
few hours’ time.
“Oh, Dr. Tomlinson!” Charlie meets him at the nurses’ station.

“Thank god you’re here.”
Louis is already on alert, zoning in his complete focus, although his

pulse still hasn’t settled back to normal. “What’s wrong with her?
Where is she?”
“No, she’s ok—she’s alright…stable as of now…I um…I just brought

her back from pre-op scans, but I had a little problem with her central
line. It was accidently removed during her scans.”
“Oh…” Louis exhales a massive breath of relief, feeling his pulse start
to settle down gradually. As long as she’s not in any sort of critical
condition, he can breathe a bit easier.
“Yeah and um—I mean, I could try to do it for her, but I know she
likes it best when you do it, and I think she really wanted to see
you…so I thought I’d let you know before I did anything…” Charlie
explains, rambling a bit as she talks. “I hope that’s not a dumb reason
to page you—you told me earlier to page you right away if anything
happened with her so I um…I just wanted to follow your
instructions.”
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“Yeah, Yes, thanks, Wesley. I’ll do it for her, it’s ok.” Louis nods
slowly. It’s not an emergent task, or even a task that requires loads of
skill or advanced practice, but Louis understands that it’s a task that’s
somehow become a bit of a thing between him and his favorite girl.
And that in itself makes it important.
“The nurses and I haven’t finished prepping her yet, but she’s back in
her room now.” Charlie debriefs him. “She had 0.3mg of morphine
two hours ago and it made her sleepy, so she may not be awake when
you go in.”
Louis nods his head again. “Ok, thank you.”
When Louis gets to Avery’s room, he finds her peacefully asleep as Dr.
Wesley thought she would be, lying calmly in her bed like a serene little
angel. She looks so content, Louis doesn’t want to wake her and he
doesn’t for a while, simply watching the small tuffs of breath rise and
fall from her chest as she rests. Before coming to sit down beside her,
Louis gathers all the necessary supplies to start a new line for her,
placing all the items on a tray.
“Aves.” Louis whispers gently, voice filled only with warmth as he

leans in towards her. She stirs slightly at the gentle call of her name,
but doesn’t fully wake.
He rests a tender hand to the side of her face, thumbing over her
cheek. “Avery, darling.”
Her eyes flutter open slowly this time as she blinks awake with a little
yawn. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Louis smiles, tilting his head with his hand still cupped to her
cheek. “I’m sorry to wake you, love.”
“Is it time for my surgery already?” She asks quietly, uncertain in the
way she lifts her head.
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“Not quite. Almost though, you’ve got a bit more prep to do first.”
Louis tells her. “But before we can do that, you seem to have somehow
lost your IV.”
Avery glances at her arm, seeming surprised to find the small tube
missing from it’s usual spot. “How’d that happen?”
“You tell me.” Louis grins, narrowing his eyes.
“I didn’t pull it out, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Avery defends,

narrowing her eyes back to match his expression.
“Oh, of course not.” Louis smiles wider, shaking his head obviously.
“You would never do such a thing.”
“I wouldn’t, I promise.” Avery insist again, sitting up just to prove how

serious she is.
Louis fondly laughs a little, knowing fully well she never would tamper
with it. “Hmm well, regardless of how it happened, I’m here to put it
right back in for you.”
“Alright...” Avery nods gradually, sounding timid all of a sudden as she

lowers her gaze down.
And although Louis has done this for her countless times over the
passing months, Avery doesn’t seem as confident as she usually does.
She’s gotten so familiar with the whole process of placing her central
line that she often likes to direct Louis through the steps, seeming to
know them as well as he does. Louis always plays along, going so far
as to purposely forget steps just so that Avery has the opportunity to
correct him.
Louis thinks back to the very first day he ever gave her an IV and how
absolutely terrified she was. Today is no different it seems, but he
knows that this time Avery is terrified for a whole other reason, a much
larger, far scarier reason.
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And to be perfectly honest, Louis feels terrified too. Like he’s barely
holding himself together against the rising pressure stacking up against
him. He doesn’t want to admit it but he’s starting to doubt himself,
question things he was once so certain about and Louis can’t tell if it’s
just nerves getting the best of him or if there is true cause for him to
doubt. There’s so much on the line, hanging in the balance and it’s all
starting to have an effect on him. Knots have been winding up in his
stomach all day, twisting and turning, forcing Louis to realize that’s
he’s not nearly in the right headspace for a procedure as severe as this
and he only has a few more hours to find a way to get his mind right.
But in the meantime, Louis is determined to put Avery at ease, at least

for a little while. Cause her to smile or get her to laugh, something to
take her mind off things. Louis may not be able to do it for himself,
but he knows he can do it for her.
“Hey, where’s Lemon? He usually joins us for these sorts of things.”

Louis asks, attempting to redirect her perceivable anxiousness.
Avery shrugs, lifting her gaze back up. “I don’t know, I really miss him
though. I can’t find him anywhere.”
“Oh, well that’s no good.” Louis frowns to himself; and come to think
of it, he hasn’t seen Avery with her prized stuffed walrus in quite some
time, maybe even months, which is definitely unusual. “I’m sure he’ll
turn up soon, love. He must miss you too.”
Avery nods her head quietly, but that look of anxiousness hasn’t left
her face. In fact, it seems to only be getting worse as the reality of what
happens today must start to really hit her, taking a toll on her entire
affect.
“Do I need to get one too?” Louis asks softly, going for a joke, but
somehow it feels so much heavier than that. “Would that make it any
better?”
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Avery smiles a bit, but still shakes her head no. There’s a storm
brewing in her eyes, casting a darkening shadow over her usually bright
features.
“Are you sure, Aves?” Louis tries again, willing to do anything to ease
her worries and make her smile again. He already knows it’s not the
central line that’s worrying her in the first place, but he still only wants
to help in any way he possibly can.
She responds with another faint movement of her head, and Louis
hates how defeated and scared she looks, it’s not at all like her.
Louis slips gloves onto his hands, moving the tray containing the
supplies within reach. But before he starts the process of placing her
central line, Louis looks to Avery again. “You’re not going to tell me
what to do today? You love doing that.”
Once again she simply shakes her head soundlessly, not even meeting
his eyes this time.
“But how will I ever get it right without your help?” Louis reminds,
speaking softly to her.
She shrugs, head remaining bowed.
“Ok, well it’s your arm so if I mess up, it’s your problem, yeah?” Louis
lightly teases, which somehow gets Avery to crack a smile. A very small
smile, but still a smile nonetheless.
Louis smiles back as he ties off the tourniquet and sterilizes her arm.
But when it comes to the next step, he purposefully pauses. “Hmm…I
can’t remember if it goes like this or like this...” Louis ponders
dramatically to himself, frowning at the 26-guage butterfly needle in
his hand as though he’s never used one before. “Guess I’ll just have to
try it out and see…”
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He begins to align the needle with her most prominent vein, but
deliberately does it upside down, going on as if he has no earthly idea
what he’s supposed to be doing. “This seems right, doesn’t it?”
“No…” Avery peeps quietly.
Louis raises an eyebrow at her curiously. “No?”
“No.” Avery shakes her head a few times. “That’s not the right way…”
“It isn’t? Really? Are you 200% sure? Because I could have sworn on
my life that it’s always been like this.”
“Nope, it’s that side first.” Avery points to the right side of the needle,
using her free hand to rearrange Louis’ hands into the proper position.
“Oooh, you’re right, yeah.” Louis nods, awing at her. “Wow, that
would have been sooo bad, huh? Good thing you’re here to help me.”
And it’s stupid and silly for him, as an experienced and practicing
doctor, to pretend like he can’t even manage such a simple thing as
placing an IV, but no matter how silly it might be, it still gets another
growing smile out of her. And it won’t be the first time, nor the last
where Louis choses to make an absolute fool out of himself for the
sake of seeing one smile from Avery.
“And correct me if I’m wrong but it goes in your elbow too, right? It’s
both sides of your arm, yeah?” Louis asks sounding perfectly serious.
He even goes so far as to use an extra swab to sanitize the back of her
arm around her elbow.
“No, Louis!” Avery smiles even wider, trying not to laugh. “It’s just
the front side!”
Louis pulls an exaggeratedly shocked face, gasping out in apparent

confusion. “What? Really? No way!”
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“Yes, really. It’s right here.” Avery points to the sterilized fossa of her
inner arm. “And only right here.”
“Oh, duh.” Louis rolls his eyes goofily at himself. “That would make
way more sense, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, silly. So then you just press on my little veins a few times until
they get puffier.” Avery directs knowingly. “Then you take the safety
clip thing off and line the needle part up to my arm.”
Louis follows each of her directions exactly, feeling a bit proud that
she’s picked up on so much. “Ok, now what do I do?”
“And then you smile at me and say, ‘take a deep breath for me, love’.”
Avery instructs, mimicking how she thinks his accent sounds.
“Take a deep breath for me, love.” Louis repeats gently, meeting her
eyes as he smiles widely.
Avery grins, inhaling slowly through her nose. “And then you tell me
that it’s just going to be a little pinch and you push the needle into my
arm in a way where it doesn’t really feel that bad and I don’t feel scared
anymore...”
“Just a little tiny pinch, Aves. I promise it’ll all be over before you
know it.” Louis whispers calmly, thumbing right above her arm with
his free hand to soothe her. And he means his soft words in more
sense than one, knowing how much she needs them. Louis pushes
carefully on the needle in order to slowly puncture her skin, securing
the line properly.
Avery lifts her gaze up to Louis in appreciation, eyes as warm as

melting honey. She takes one of his hands, linking it with her own and
holding it up to her heart. “Thank you, Louis.”
Louis nods his head silently, understanding exactly what she means
and he leans in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. And he feels his
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throat closing up as he does it, emotions already threatening to once
again get the best of him. And they probably would have if it wasn’t
for Dr. Wesley and a few nurses walking back into the room to finish
prepping Avery for surgery.
“I’ll see you in a bit, love.” Louis whispers to her before pulling back.
He gives her one more watery smile he can barely manage before
slipping out of the room, feeling even more uneasy than before. The
surgery may be happening in a few hours, but Louis desperately needs
a time out. He needs a mental pause, something to reframe his mind
and allow him to regroup before this all gets started and he finds
himself drowning in a sea of his own rising doubts.
||☤||
“There you are.” Niall sighs in what sounds to be relief as he rounds

the deserted corridor of the lowest level in the medical center.
Louis is sitting silently, cross-legged on an old gurney in the basement.

Just sitting. Thinking. Hardly moving, as he stares down at the dull,
outdated tile patterns that were never updated like the main hospital
floors recently were. As interns and residents, they would come down
here all the time to take a break from the hectic stress that seems to
always be going on upstairs. It’s the perfect place to study or take a
quick nap or just…think.
“I had a feeling you might come down here.” Niall reveals, taking a
few steps forward.
Louis wandered down here unseeingly after leaving Avery’s room and
he hasn’t moved since. To be honest, he doesn’t even know how long
he’s been down here, completely transfixed by his own soaring and
spiraling thoughts. It couldn’t have been too long though, otherwise
he would have already been paged to the O.R.
Niall hops up on the gurney next to him, plopping himself down until
he gets comfortable. They sit in silence for a few moments, Niall
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swinging his hanging feet back and forth. “Are you nervous about the
surgery?”
Louis offers no response, gaze still trained on the linoleum tile. It’s
quite ugly tile, if he’s honest. Shaded in a pale, faded blue, arranged in
a repetitive geometric pattern most likely from the late 80’s. But
despite the tile’s age, the pattern is oddly calming at the same time and
Louis can’t help but completely zone out while staring at it.
“That’s normal, you know.” Niall continues talking anyway as he

usually does. “It’s essentially a brand new procedure that’s never been
properly tested before now. Anyone in your position would be
nervous. In fact, I’d be worried if you weren’t nervous.”
Louis can feel Niall’s watchful eyes on him, feel him assessing his every
move and every breath, waiting for him to speak up and say something.
But Louis has no idea what to say right now.
“But you’ve got this.” Niall reassures positively, as though he believes

it without a single doubt. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”
The worst part is that the surgery itself isn’t even all that Louis is
thinking about anymore. It should be—it was, but now everything feels
so much more complicated than that. And Louis can’t, for the life of
him, regain composure and get himself to focus. He thought by
coming down here he could effectively process it out and hone in his
thoughts, but it seems the opposite has happened and now he’s
overthinking every damn thing.
“Lou.” Niall prompts, urgent enough for Louis to lift his head, but
soft enough to not sound forceful or rushed. “Hey. Talk to me.”
Louis shakes his head, still at a loss for words. Everything feels like a
mess, a jumbled muddled mess that he can’t quite sift through. He
doesn’t know where to start, but he keeps coming back to the sound
of Harry’s voice just an hour ago when he poured his entire heart out
at Louis’ feet. He can still hear each and every one of Harry’s words
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bouncing around his mind like timed symphonies, going off like awe-
inspiring fireworks again and again, sparking fits of wonder and joy,
but also dredging up a newfound uncertainty. “Um…I mean he
um…”
“What?” Niall frowns, waiting for Louis to finish his mumbled

sentence.
Louis shifts his gaze to Niall and just opens his mouth and says it
before he can dwell on it any longer. “Harry told me he loves me...”
To his credit, Niall’s expression doesn’t reveal any sort of shock or

question, in fact it hardly even moves. “He’s really got some timing,
doesn’t he?”
Louis scoffs a bit at that, the sound morphing into a sigh.
“You know, I feel like we just had this conversation, except it was me
telling you.” Niall notes, seeming to find something mildly amusing
about the whole idea. And Louis supposes that it is a bit ironic when
he thinks about it. “Alright…well, did you say it back?”
Louis shakes his head. “He didn’t let me or—I mean…he didn’t want
me to give him an answer until after Avery’s surgery.”
“Did you want to say it back?” Niall adjusts his question subtly.
“I—I don’t know? Yes. I think, yes—but…” Louis didn’t want to just
say it back, he wanted to scream it back as loud as his windpipes could
sustain. He sighs again, running a frustrated hand through his hair as
he tosses his head side to side. “I don’t know—maybe it's a good thing
I didn’t give him an answer, you know? So then if this all goes bad he
can just move on...”
Niall’s entire face scrunches up into a disgruntled frown, looking to

Louis incredulously. “What the fuck are you talking about, Louis?”
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Louis sighs again, heavier this time and even more frustrated, feeling
as though he should have just kept his mouth shut about all this.
“No, seriously. What the fuck? You can’t be—”
“He will never forgive me if she dies, Niall!” Louis bursts out in a rush,
trying his best to explain the chaotic mess of thoughts scrambled
through his mind. Oddly this is the only thing that makes perfect sense
in his head, it almost makes too much sense. “How could he ever
forgive me? I…I wouldn’t even forgive myself…” His voices dies out,
the vulnerable honesty of his words lingering thickly in the air between
them. Louis goes back to staring at the ugly, yet calming tile under his
feet, zoning in on the squares as he inhales deeply.
Louis chews over his next words for several, drawn out moments,
processing through them. “I know that Harry is not a vengeful
man…and I know that he would never do it purposefully and…he said
he’ll still love me—that nothing could change how he feels and his
eyes were so…sincere and honest and—I mean, I believe him…I
do…but—I don’t know…I just keep thinking that if it went bad…”
Louis shakes his head slowly, allowing himself to gradually think this
through. “How could I tell him that I love him after that? It just…I
don’t know—how would that ever be fair at that point? I would just
be a constant reminder that she’s…that s-she’s… g-gone…”
Niall pulls Louis closer and starts to rub his back soothingly. “It
wouldn’t be your fault if she died, Lou. You know that, don’t you? It
could never be your fault. You’re doing something amazing. You’re
trying to give her a chance that no one thought was possible. You’re
fighting to give her a new chance at a life. And that in itself is
incredible.”
“But it might cut her life even shorter…” Louis worries dejectedly,
head hung. “She could have a few more months and if this doesn’t
work, all that time would just be gone and I would have robbed him
of that time with her and I…I don’t…I mean—I just…”
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“No Louis, listen to me.” Niall brings Louis’ head back up to meet his
stormy eyes. “You have done worlds of good in that girl’s life. She
wouldn’t even be alive right now if you hadn’t treated her before. You
haven’t failed her and you haven’t failed him either.”
Louis still can’t help but repeatedly think of the very worst, allowing
his insecurities to overpower his thought process in horribly negative
ways. “But Niall it won’t matter if she…if she d-dies on the table…if
I l-let her die…” His voice sounds so uncharacteristically raw; breathy
and emotional as the words fall quietly from his lips. “He won’t feel
the same way anymore…”
“Lou, you are so much more than his daughter’s doctor and you always
have been.” Niall says in a serious voice, eyes unwavering as he speaks.
“He doesn’t just see you as some kind of savior, he sees you for you,
Louis. For you. He loves you. Not Dr. Tomlinson, the renowned
neurosurgeon. But you, Louis Tomlinson, the kind-hearted, gentle
man who cares—cares so deeply about him and his daughter. He’s
saying that he didn’t start loving you because things always went well
between you and he’s not going to stop loving you if the worst comes.
He needs you. Both ways, whatever comes next—whether she makes
it or not, Harry needs you, Louis. That’s what he’s saying.” Niall
explains in confidence. “And I know this because I’ve seen it for
myself countless times, it’s so clear how he feels about you and I’ve
seen how you both rely on each other, maybe even without being fully
aware of it. You’ve always done it, since the day you first met.”
It’s true, Louis thinks. And if he were to really go back and think
through it all, from the very start of it all he and Harry have had a clear
pattern of mutual reliance on each other. There’s an anomalous,
unwavering trust that continually binds them, even when they were at
bitter odds with each other and at their very worsts, it was still there,
thrumming between them in the shadows.
“And if, god-forbid, that she didn’t make it…I think he would need
you that much more.” Niall continues, still holding Louis’ gaze. “Harry
already knows that you’ll do your best, you always do…but as much
as you try, at the end of the day, you’re still human and if something
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were to happen, I don’t think he would blame you—he could never
blame you for trying. Instead, I think he would look to you for comfort
as he always has. It’s like a natural reaction for him to seek you out,
just like it is for you with him. You’ll need each other more than ever.”
He says and Louis has no idea when Niall became a relationship expert
or how he could possibly have known exactly what to say to combat
Louis’ doubts, but that’s exactly why he’s one of Louis’ closest friends.
“The real question is, would you be able to forgive yourself if the worst
did come?”
Louis sits quietly and thinks hard about that question to himself.
Maybe there’s a part of him that is simply displacing his own fears and
finding it easier to deflect his insecurities onto Harry like some kind of
scapegoat. And now Louis doesn’t truly know if he would be able to
let it all go or if he would hold onto it like a cruel grudge against himself
for the rest of his life.
“I've lost patients before…I’ve lost pediatric patients even and it hurts
and it’s awful and I’ll always remember each one of them…but this...”
Louis pauses, taking a deep breath to calm his horribly shaky voice.
“Losing her wouldn’t be like losing a patient. It’d be losing…”
my heart, my love, my life…
Louis feels the sting already building heavily behind his eyes and he
feels so vulnerably overwhelmed, coming to his wits’ end. He drops
his gaze down and the first full tear drops down his cheek with it.
…my everything
Niall nods rubbing Louis’ back. He already knows, already

understands, not needing Louis to finish.
“Ok, look it me.” Niall goads, shifting around on the gurney so that
his body is aimed toward Louis. “Look at me, Lou.”
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Louis forces himself to meet Niall’s gaze, saltwater still rimming the
bottom of his clear blue eyes. Niall reaches out and holds both of
Louis’ shoulders firmly, looking at him straight on.
“You can do this.” Niall states firmly without a hitch of doubt in his
voice, squeezing Louis’ shoulders tightly. “You can do this Louis, you
can. Not because Harry loves you or you love him, but because you
care about your patient and you are more than capable to do this. You
are brilliant and talented and I’ve watched you do so many great things
in your career and touch so many people’s lives. You never cease to
amaze me and I know that you can do this. You are going to march
into that O.R. and fix that little girl. You’re going push everything else
out and you’re going to follow your plan and take it one step at a time.
You can fucking do this, Louis.”
Louis breaks eye contact with Niall only to stare down at the floor
again, watching his feet hang off the side of the hospital bed. It doesn’t
feel like he can do this, it doesn’t feel like he’ll ever find a way within
himself to move past the uncertainty that seems to constantly shroud
every aspect of his life, now bleeding into his work.
Maybe the fear of losing her won’t ever leave him, and maybe that can
somehow be shifted into a good thing if he can find the will to harness
that same fear into motivation to get through this. If he can’t lose her,
then he can’t afford not to find the strength to do this.
“Say it.” Niall urges, giving Louis’ shoulder’s an encouraging squeeze.
“…I c-can do this.” Louis repeats in a timid, quiet voice, head still
bowed down.
“No. I want you to believe it. If you don’t believe it, then you might
as well not go in there at all.” Niall tells him. “You know I believe it,
I’ll always believe in you. But it only matters if you believe it too. You
have to go in there ready to fight. Avery needs you to fight for her, she
needs you to believe that you can do it. So I want you to say it and
mean it. Really mean it, Lou. You can do this.”
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Louis closes his eyes, taking repeated deep breaths as he tries to
internalize Niall’s encouragements. And he knows without a doubt
that he never would have been able to talk himself down without his
best friend, without someone who never fails to have faith in him even
when he’s lacking faith in himself. He pulls together every last drop of
bravery he has flowing through his system; he may not feel especially
courageous right now, but he’s going to be regardless.
He lifts his head back up fully with increasing determination building

up inside him, allowing a new resolve to take root inside him. And
when he says the words this time, Louis actually believes them. “I can
do this.”
Niall nods reassuringly, eyes locked on Louis’ with his hands still on
his shoulders. “You can.”
“I can.”
||✚||
It’s the final moments before the surgery. Possibly the last time Harry
will ever be able to talk with his daughter, ever be able to look upon
her sweet face and see her beaming back up at him in a way only she
can. He would give anything to hold her tight to his chest until this all
fades away, rock her soundly to sleep, humming softly to her as he did
when she was just a baby. As her father, all Harry desperately wants is
to see the life return to her golden hazel eyes, watch the color pour
back into her exhausted face and light up her beautiful features once
again.
Oh, but she’s beautiful, she will always be so breathtakingly beautiful.

Even now, lying on the gurney in a hospital gown, monitored hand
clasped in Harry’s, exuding more strength than a child should ever
have to possess, Avery is nothing but beautiful.
A few nurses and medical staff gradually push her bed down the long
white hall to the O.R. Each step Harry takes alongside the bed, fills his
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entire body with profound dread, dark trepidation creeping up against
him down the painfully bright, shadow-less hallway. He can’t look up,
he doesn’t want to see how close they’re getting to the final doors, he
can’t bear to accept how short of a time they have left together. So
instead Harry focuses solely on Avery’s beautiful face, holding dearly
to her small, pale fingers.
He promised himself he wasn’t going to cry just yet, he swore that he

was going to stay strong for his Avie until the very end. But it’s so
unbearably hard now that he’s actually in the moment, now that it’s all
become real, far too real to withstand. And Harry knows that he can’t
hold back the water gathering behind his eyes for much longer,
building up like a dammed river set to spring free.
“This is as far as you can go, Mr. Styles.” The nurse informs him as
they stop in front of the large double doors labeled with cautionary
signs and warnings only permitting authorized medical staff only.
Harry inhales slowly through his mouth, nodding his head as he leans
down to fully face his daughter. She looks back at him, searching his
eyes silently and Harry can tell she’s scared. He cups the side of her
face with one of his hands, committing all her many details of her
sweet face.
i wish we had more time
“No matter what happens…I love you, ok baby. I’ll always love you
and you’ll always be with me.” Harry promises, and he means it
undeniably. Avery will never leave his heart, the memory of her will
never fade from his mind, or wane from his thoughts. She is and will
always be an unshakable part of him. “You changed my life in so many
ways, ways I didn’t even know were possible, Avie. I don’t know how
I got so lucky to be able to have a daughter like you. You’re a miracle,
you’re my miracle. I love you with my whole heart.”
“I love you, Daddy.” Avery whispers, foreheads pressed together as

tears begin to run down her cheeks. “I love you so much. Always.”
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“My sweet, little Munchie.” Harry smiles warmly, tracing the side of
her face and wiping her tears away. He doesn’t want to let her go, he
doesn’t even know if he can physically do it, dreading the moment his
hands will be left empty.
“Promise we’ll still go to Europe?” Avery murmurs, big eyes peering

back at him.
“Promise.” Harry sniffles emotionally, nodding his head as he bites

down on his lip.
“And…” Avery reaches up to hold the sides of his head. “Promise

you’ll still go even if I’m not with you. For both of us.”
At that, Harry closes his eyes and the hot sting of unshed tears rimming
his eyes finally starts to trickle down his cheeks. He tries to reign it
back in, but it’s useless. The thought of going anywhere without her
nearly brings him to his knees right then and there. It doesn’t feel at
all right in any sense of the word, but Harry somehow finds the
strength to nod his head regardless. “O-Ok, baby. I will…I p-
promise.” His voice is barely held at a hushed whisper and he keeps
his eyes closed for another short moment, trying to recenter himself
with Avery’s small hands still cupped to his cheeks. “But you’ve got to
fight in there, ok? Fight hard.”
Avery nods slowly against his head. “I will, I promise…I will.”
Harry takes a few breaths, relishing these final peaceful moments with
his daughter. There may never be another moment like this and the
reality isn’t lost on him. It feels like there is so much he needs to say
to her, so much that couldn’t possibly fit into this last passing moment,
but Harry choses to say the most important thing of them all. He pulls
back enough to affectionately kiss his love to both of her cheeks. “I
love you…I love you…I love you.”
And Avery lets out a little sob when he says it, surging up to wring
both of her arms around her father, burying her face in his neck. It’s
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the worst sound Harry has ever heard in his entire life and it shatters
every piece of him like weakened glass. He hugs her close, rubbing her
back as she trembles in his arms.
“I d-don’t wanna say g-goodbye to you, Daddy…” Avery cries against

him, the sound muffled.
i could never tell you goodbye
“Then let’s not say goodbye.” Harry decides, silent saltwater tracks
running down his own cheeks as he holds her against him. “It’s not
goodbye, sweetheart.”
She squeezes him tighter, and Harry can feel her spilled tears against
the now damp skin of his neck. Avery always has held his entire heart,
she is his heart and now his heart is breaking, splintering in the center
of his chest.
“Be brave for me…” Harry whispers softly to her ear, just as she once
did for him. Countless times she’s inspired bravery in him and now he
wants to pass on that very same bravery back to her. He knows she’s
scared, he knows how hard this is for her and if he could go through
this for her, he wouldn’t hesitate to take her place, but at the very least
Harry wants his daughter to realize just how incredibly brave she really
is. Because maybe if she knows, maybe it will get her through this.
“You’re so brave, Munch. You’ve always been the bravest girl and I
know it’s really scary…but you’re always reminding me to be brave
and now it’s my turn to remind you, ok?” He holds his hand securely
to the back of her head, eyes closed as he tries not to let his ricocheting
emotions get the best of his whispered voice. “Avie…be brave...”
He says the words with every last ounce of determination he has left
inside, hoping that somehow it reaches her where she needs it most.
Avery slowly pulls back enough to see his face, nodding her head
silently as Harry thumbs away the rest of her tears. They share a long,
teary-eyed look, conveying something words cannot through their
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locked gaze. Harry leans in once more to press one last lingering kiss
to her forehead, Avery closing her eyes.
Harry rights himself, going against his own will as he forces himself to
separate from her and stand up straight. The loss of warmth in his
arms already feels unnatural and it takes everything he has not to pull
his baby back into his arms again. The nurses, who have been
respectfully quiet and distant to give them space, offer Harry
empathetic looks of compassion before resuming their positions at the
sturdy handles of the gurney, steering it towards the door.
And even after she is gone and the O.R. doors have closed, Harry
stands. Unsteady feet planted to the ground, praying that the next time
she is pushed through these very same doors, she’s still breathing, heart
still beating. Because he can’t handle another goodbye in a cold, sterile
room, he can’t handle another goodbye whispered through his own
hushed tears, a goodbye fallen upon deaf ears that will never again hear
his voice. Harry knows he can’t handle seeing her small body held so
still on a bed three times her size, quiet, lifeless, eyes closed for the last
time.
So even after he’s finally forced himself to turn his back and head to
the waiting room, he can’t stop his thoughts from desperately
repeating the same three words like a humbled prayer.
please be ok, please be ok, please be ok…
||☤||
The sanitized automated doors swoosh open and Louis takes a slow
step into the operating room. Arms held up to preserve his clean hands
after just scrubbing in, he is met almost instantly by a scrub nurse, his
favorite scrub nurse, ready with a sterile surgical gown. In fact, the
operating room is staffed only by his favorite and most trusted surgical
team members, each individually chosen personally to greater secure a
positive outcome. From the anesthesiologist to the different scrub
nurses to the medsurge technicians, everyone in the room has worked
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closely with Louis for years and they each know his specific surgical
habits and preferences down to the letter.
As his gown is securely tied, hands covered by nitrile gloves, Louis

houses all his energy on keeping his mind clear and focused. The
amount of times that he has set foot in the O.R. and gone through
these same steps is practically innumerable, and each and every time
Louis has to remind himself to push out his emotions, to disregard
whatever feelings he may have and stay unattached while working. But
this time isn’t like all the other times before, this time Louis feels driven
by his emotions, linked to his feelings. As dangerous as that is in a
situation like this, his emotional connection to this case, to this surgery,
to her, is what is going to get him through it.
Avery is already positioned on the operating table, draped and

prepped, but she hasn’t yet been put under anesthesia. She looks so
alone and small on the large table, staring motionlessly up at the huge
surgical overhead lamp looming above her head. And Louis’ legs are
walking towards her before he even registers what he’s doing.
“Hey.” Louis whispers tenderly, yanking off his fresh glove only to slip
one of his hands into hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. He’ll have
to go through the process of regloving up, but it’s more than worth it
when he sees the grateful look in her timid eyes, just to feel his palm
warm against hers.
She turns her head towards Louis fully, a sudden softness coming over
her features as she gazes up at him, despite her hazel eyes being
horribly red-rimmed.
“You got one with walruses on it.” Avery whispers, noticing the new
scrub cap fastened to Louis’ head right away.
“I did.” Louis smiles softly. The background of the cap is shaded in

swirling hues of blue while the entire thing is riddled with cute, little,
animated walruses. He searched high and low to find it, ending up
specially ordering the cap in order to have it for today. He thought
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surprising her with it would be well worth the headache it was to find
an oddly unique scrub cap like this.
But it’s not just a scrub cap with walruses on it—it’s a symbol, one of
reassured hope, of unbreakable trust and the inimitable safety they’ve
found in each other. Louis isn’t one for good luck charms or positive
omens granting promises of victory, but he figures they could use all
the positive help they can get. Besides, simply seeing the way it lights
up Avery’s face and melts a fraction of anxiety from her features is all
he could ever ask for.
“I told you it’d look good.” Avery grins slightly, voice still so very
quiet.
Louis nods his head, grinning back. “And you were right as usual, little
love.”
Avery’s tiny grin grows just a bit wider and it’s absolutely everything.
“Of course I was.”
There’s a pause between them, quiet except for the whirling machines
constantly beeping lowly in the background, medical personnel flitting
about the O.R. in preparation. Louis has a hand cradled tenderly to the
top of her head and Avery stares up at him in silence. It’s odd because
her expression as a whole is calm, utterly still, but her eyes—her eyes
are unnerved like never before, the only portal into how she’s really
feeling inside.
And Louis feels helpless in so many ways because there’s virtually

nothing he can do to ease her mind this time. He can hold her hand
for these last few seconds, he can whisper comforting words in her
ear, he can even make her smile for a few fleeting moments, but he
can’t make that unsettling feeling go away. He can’t make the anxious
terror swirling around in her mind subside, he can’t calm the fearful
tides taking over her system and the realization of that makes Louis
feel so very helpless.
i wish you didn’t have to go through this
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“I’ll see you after, ok Aves?” He means it as a promise, a simple
reassurance that everything will be ok and he’ll be right there with her
the whole time. From the time she first closes her eyes to the time she
opens them again. He will be there.
Avery nods silently, eyes impossibly wide and filled with rising
trepidation. And Louis finds himself still continually wishing that he
could do the impossible and ease her worries, absorb some of the fear
looming over her and take it upon himself; but nothing could possibly
prepare her for this. Louis can’t lie to her as he looks down into her
hazel eyes. Avery is old enough and smart enough to grasp the severity
of this and it is absolutely terrifying.
“Show me that little heartbreaker smile.” Louis whispers to her, resting

his other hand gently on her cheek.
He knows she’s not quite up for it, knows that a smile is probably the
last thing she feels like doing, but there’s something so powerful about
something so simple as a smile, especially Avery’s smile. It’s thought
that a smile can often trick the human brain into feeling a sense of
peaceful happiness, spurring a sudden chemical reaction throughout
the nervous system and Louis doesn’t want her to start this battle with
such a downcast spirit shadowing over her.
“Please Aves, for me…” Louis requests again, softly stroking her
cheek as he gazes down on her.
It takes a few moments, but slowly Avery’s lips curve into her wide
signature smile, dimples dipping into her cheeks. And it’s so
wonderfully vibrant, beautifully heart-stopping in every possible way.
In that instant, a rare glimpse of peace falls over her, brilliantly coloring
her pale face in ways Louis hasn’t seen on her in days.
“There it is.” Louis smiles back at her warmly, completely in awe of

her. He continues running his thumb along the side of her face in
soothing motions. “My beautiful, brave girl.”
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Louis gives Avery’s hand one more reassuring squeeze before nodding
a green light to the anesthesiologist to begin administering the
sedatives while she’s still calm. A mask is placed over Avery’s face and
Louis holds her hand until it gradually goes lax in his grip as she drifts
off to sleep.
Louis leans in then, dipping down close to her ear. “Sleep tight, little
love. It’s all going to be ok.”
||✚||
The waiting room already feels like pure hell.
Well, if hell were a cool, hauntingly quiet place with decently

comfortable chairs and limitless magazines paired with grueling
amounts of anxious energy buzzing in the very air. There are pockets
of different families and loved ones scattered about the room, each
one of them with the same exact look painted across their faces. It’s a
look of pure uncertainty, everything held at a standstill, like waiting for
a fresh breath of air that might never come.
But in a way Harry envies the different families he sees, because as he

glances around the room, he notices a bit of a reoccurring trend. None
of them are sitting alone, each person has a hand to hold and a
shoulder to cry on as they wait and hold their breath through the
longest moment of their lives.
And as Harry slowly settles himself down into a chair in the corner, he
can’t help but wish he had someone next to him to help ease his mind
from falling back to the worst. Just a friendly face to even slightly
distract him from the fact that his daughter’s brain is being cut into
and she may not make it off the table alive.
It’s only been three minutes and Harry’s sweaty hands are already
clamped to the railings of his chair, heel bouncing madly up and down
as the restless, nervous energy seems to overflow out of him. He can’t
stop replaying the sound of Avery’s choked up sob as she held onto
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him for the last time, he can’t stop wondering if that really will be the
last time for them. They didn’t say goodbye—couldn’t bear to say
goodbye, but it seems to lord over him anyway.
what if it was goodbye…what if that’s it…
How is he ever going to survive hour after hour of this? Of his mind
dredging up the very worst scenarios until he’s somehow convinced
himself it’s all true? Surgeries like this are known to take upwards of
fifteen consecutive hours and Harry can barely make it to fifteen
consecutive minutes.
Harry leans over himself and drops his head into his propped up
hands, breathing in deeply several times in a weak attempt to calm
himself down to a reasonable level of anxiety. But then he feels an
unexpected warmth at his side—warm like another body would be.
And when Harry lifts his head, he is more than shocked to see Liam
Payne settling down next to him.
Harry partially turns to him slowly, confused as to what he’s actually

doing here in the waiting room. Harry waits several moments, giving
Liam the chance to say whatever it is he sat down to say, but when he
says nothing, Harry turns toward him completely. “What are you…”
“Sitting.” Liam answers him simply, without Harry even needing to

finish his question.
“Sitting…” Harry echoes slowly, brow pulled together as he eyes Liam

curiously.
Liam nods, meeting Harry’s eyes and there’s something so

comfortingly earnest and kind about the look in his gentle brown gaze,
something that makes Harry feel just a touch more at ease than
moments ago.
“Here? You’re just…sitting…here…” Harry continues in a slow,

drawn out speech. “…With me…”
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“Yep.” Liam nods again easily, not offering much explanation.
Harry sits up all the way in his seat, whole body twisting around. “Did
Louis ask you to do this? You can tell me if he did—I won’t hold it
against you or anything…and I won’t force you to stay and sit with me
all day against your will—because I…I mean I’m o-ok…I’m…” Harry
senses the frazzled energy thrumming under his skin, only disproving
the very words coming out of his mouth.
“No, he didn’t ask me.” Liam shakes his head gently. “I’m not being
forced to do anything. And even if you were ok, no one should have
to sit through something like this alone. It’s hard enough to process as
it is, being alone only makes it worse.” He reaches over and takes
Harry’s hand in his, meeting his eyes in the most genuine way. “I’ll be
here the whole time. I promise.”
Harry blinks incredulously, staring at Liam in total disbelief, almost

feeling as though maybe his thoughts have somehow been broadcasted
out loud for all to hear like some kind of distress signal paged
throughout the hospital.
“Don’t even try to tell me to leave, Harry Styles.” Liam warns seriously,
eyes narrowed even though his smile is still gentle. “I may not know
too much about you on a personal level, but I do know you can be
stubborn sometimes. But you know what? I’m stubborn too and I’m
not leaving.” He gives Harry’s hand another warm squeeze,
comforting grin widening. “You’re stuck with me.”
Harry can’t stop his face from breaking into an appreciative smile even
though he still feels like he’s keeping Liam from something much more
important than him. “But…don’t you have patients or something? I
don’t want to mess up your schedule.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Liam evades, shrugging it off like it’s
nothing. “I’m here for you and I’m right where I need to be.”
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Harry feels a warmth radiating inside him, touched that someone he
doesn’t even know all that well would do something like that for him
without even being asked. He drops his gaze down and when he does,
he notices that Liam still has Avery’s bracelet secured to his wrist, worn
proudly in support of her and something about that touches Harry
even more.
“And besides this is our chance to finally get to know each other
properly.” Liam adds lightly. “Well…only if you’re up for it. I’d
completely understand if you just wanted to sit in silence—I’m cool
with that too. Whatever you need, I’m your guy.”
The last thing Harry wants to do is sit in silence, allowing his own
terrifying thoughts to grow uncontrollably louder in his head. He
welcomes all distractions in whatever form they come and he’d very
much like to get to know and befriend Liam.
Harry slowly smiles again, growing accustomed to having Liam’s hand

constantly grounding him. “I’d really like that, Liam.” He answers in a
wavering whisper with his head still bowed low. And Harry has to fight
against turning into an emotional mess over how supported he feels.
It was all so unexpected and right now he’s so easily overwhelmed by
the slightest of things. Harry doesn’t know how to properly express
into words how relieved he feels to not be sitting here alone anymore
and it’s then that his eyes start to gradually tear up.
Liam of course notices and doesn’t hesitate to wrap Harry up in a

bone-crushing hug without question, both arms secure around his
back. Harry goes easily into his embrace, allowing his weight to sag
against him.
“Thank you.” Harry murmurs faintly to Liam’s shoulder, but Harry

knows that Liam heard him because he somehow seems to tighten his
hold around Harry’s back.
“We all need a shoulder to lean on sometimes.”
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||☤||
There is a full gallery of residents and fellow attendings stationed in

the observation deck above the O.R., looking down in eager
anticipation of the procedure set to commence in front of them. Louis
wanted to have a closed gallery, take some of the pressure off of this
already complex procedure, but since it’s an experimental surgery, it
serves as a potential learning experience for his colleagues, so having
a completely closed O.R. was never going to happen.
Louis stands entirely still for a moment, instruments unmoving in his

poised hands. He has yet to make a single incision, surgical field
completely untouched except for the temporary incision guideline
drawn to Avery’s smooth scalp. Although he knows what he needs to
do, Louis remains motionless, breathing deeply from behind his mask.
And he’s not going to lie, the components of this procedure are
incredibly daunting, so much so that it causes him to take pause.
It’s meant to only be a momentary pause, a few minutes at most while

he gathers his bearings, something he does often before starting a
lengthy procedure. But a few minutes soon begins to multiply and
soon Louis is setting down his scalpel all together, only to stare down
at his empty hands.
“Dr. Tomlinson…are you ok?” Charlie whispers to him from his side.
i can do this
Louis can feel every set of eyes on him, from his fellow surgical team
to the awaiting medical professionals in the observation deck looming
above him. And it’s...a lot—too much actually. “Yeah…I’m ok…I’m
just…um…” His voice drops off as he lifts his gaze to look up at the
gallery.
There’s a sea of intrigued faces, but his eyes immediately land on the
two most familiar ones, sat in the very front row to support him. Zayn
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and Niall wave at him from behind the glass and just seeing them
seems to take a few loads off of Louis’ shoulders.
i can do this, i’m fine…i can do it…
Something feels wrong though, something still feels off and no matter
what Louis tells himself, he just can’t seem to shake the unsettledness
of it.
Zayn seems to be watching him like a hawk from up above, tracking

his slightest move, noting his stiff body language and
uncharacteristically frozen hands. And in seconds, he’s bounding right
up to his feet. He turns his back to Louis to address the large gathered
crowd seated patiently in the deck. Niall does the same at his side and
Louis can tell they’re saying something to the group, but since the
intercom isn’t on, Louis has no idea what it is. But soon enough, to
Louis’ astonishment, the rows of doctors and surgeons begin to
disperse out of the room. And with each one gone, Louis feels like he
can breathe just a bit more.
When all that remains are his two friends in the gallery, Zayn strides
over to the intercom mounted on the wall, pressing down on the
speaker button. “Is that better, Lou?”
Louis doesn’t even know how Zayn could have possibly known. But
he’s exceedingly touched that his friend knew exactly what he needed
in this moment, better than he even did. Louis is all for teaching, he’s
all for sharing his surgical experiences and helping others become
better at their craft, but the added stress of an audience was far too
much for him to handle right now. He’s never felt pressured by
onlookers or by being made an example of, but it just didn’t feel right
today. This surgery feels like a far more intimate thing—it’s far too
personal, far too emotional. And Louis recognizes that he needs the
space and peace of mind to be able to get through this in whatever way
he can without any additional stressors.
Louis nods his head thankfully as he looks up at the gallery. And if he

wasn’t wearing a mask and an illuminated scope on his head,
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concealing his features, his friends would surely see the pure stress
coating his entire expression. “Don’t leave...” He requests, voice
unusually quiet, nervous to even his own ears. “Please don’t leave.”
“We’re not going anywhere.” Niall promises reassuringly, and he and

Zayn sit right back down in their seats at the very front of the gallery,
ready to support him through this. It is by no means going to be a
short procedure and the fact that his friends cleared their busy surgical
schedules just to sit and support him all day means the world and more,
giving Louis the exact push he needs to begin.
just breathe…
Louis nods again, this time to himself. He allows his eyes to fall closed
before inhaling deeply from his nose several times. In and out he
breathes repeatedly, mentally going over his plan one last time to
bolster himself. He rolls his shoulders, tilting his neck side to side until
he finally opens his eyes, determined and ready to go.
“Start the clock.” Louis finally speaks with practiced assurance. He

holds his hand out to the scrub nurse at his side. “10-blade.”
Scalpel poised in hand, Louis makes his first incision in confidence,

following the pattern outlined in temporary ink on her scalp. The first
few moves are basic, simply dissecting the skull flap and exposing the
target brain area that will be focused on throughout the operation.
“Inserting flurosine dye.” Louis announces as the infected area of the

brain begins to glow green against the healthy surrounding tissue. The
dye essentially gives him an illuminated map to follow, perfectly
outlining what belongs and what doesn’t. “Dim the lights, please.”
It’s even more daunting in this light, illumed as the central focus of the
surgical field. And the tumor has definitely expanded quite a bit since
Louis last had his fingers in her brain. He already had an estimate of
its impending size from the different angled scans, scans that Louis
studied and memorized like the back of his hand. But even still, there’s
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something about this tumor—this highly intelligent, complex tumor,
that once again takes his breath completely away.
just one step at a time, i can do this…
He’s not going to let this defeat him, he refuses to let it break him
down. So Louis presses on, for once not looking at the big picture,
only taking it a single cut at a time. Over the next several hours, with
the assist of Dr. Wesley at his side, Louis resects a clean marginal path,
excavating what he safely can of the massive tumor in order to move
forth with his surgical plan. And every time Louis gets stuck or hits a
snag along the path, he pauses and continually reminds himself to
breathe through it. All he can do is breathe through it, inhaling in and
exhaling out, taking each moment one small step at a time. Sometimes
he’s forced to pause only to mutter through his limited options out
loud, processing through how to best proceed without damaging a
vital blood vessel or stripping a nerve. But Louis doesn’t rush himself,
moving methodically, making sure that he’s confident in the calculated
incisions he makes.
Clearing a viable path takes more time than Louis would have liked,
but through tedious strokes and meticulous cuts, he is able to cleanly
remove a reasonable amount of the mass, which is highly vital to the
next stages of the operation. The more room he has to work as they
approach the more difficult aspects of the procedure, the better.
And now, coming up on hour number eight, the heavy nerves Louis
expected to arise start to settle in, falling over him in steadily increasing
waves. This is where routine craniotomy starts to meet experimental
procedure, where the real risk arises.
The technicians start wheeling in the necessary radiation equipment,

while all non-essential personnel begin to exit the operating room to
limit the amount of overall exposure. A thick led vest is strapped to
Louis’ chest and neck, underneath a fresh surgical grown and his
already gloved hands are encased in an even heavier, dense rubber
glove. Charlie, as well as the remaining surgical staff, sport a similar
protective outfit; everyone in the room prepared to brace any potential
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radiation exposure. Louis can already sense the limited range of
motion from all the extra cautionary protection, but he shakes himself
out a few times to get acclimated to it as well as shake off any extra
nerves.
Once everything is in order with his team and himself, Louis nods his
head to the technician. “Start the second clock.”
This phase of the surgery is extremely time sensitive because of the

high level of radiation being utilized. Even with the heavy gloves and
thick lead vest harnessed to his chest, he can only be exposed to this
level of radiation for thirty minutes maximum without risking his own
health safety. In that short window allotted, Louis needs to place a
series of radiation induced seeds along the marginal path that he
cleared within the brain tissue. The overall concept is for the
radioactive seeds to work in junction with the virus he will later inject,
insuring that the tumor not only dies, but never returns. However, the
placement has to be exact, moving too fast or too carelessly will result
in poor alignment and render the treatment ineffective.
But as Louis begins placing the tiny seeds, he finds it nearly impossible
to place them properly through the thick insulation of his protective
gloves. The seeds keep slipping out of place without the usually precise
use of his fingers. Louis had planned to use a pre-op brain map as a
guide, but during the excavation portion of the surgery, there’s been
an intracranial shift and nothing is in the exact same place as it initially
was. At his command, Dr. Wesley has set up an ultrasound to try to
get an idea of what he’s doing, but at this point Louis is basically
eyeballing it.
“I can’t quite get it.” Louis huffs in irritation, moving his wrist around
to get a better angle, but nothing feels right, his grip constantly
slipping. “These damn gloves are so thick…”
Louis glances up at the clock to see that he’s already wasted away seven
precious minutes and only successfully placed one of the fourteen
seeds outlined on the brain map. At this rate there is no way he will be
able to complete this stage of the surgery in time. But since the rest of
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the procedure is highly dependent on this step, Louis has no choice
but to find some way to place the rest of the seeds.
The clock keeps ticking by, minutes passing like short-lived seconds
while Louis continues to fumble under the encumbrance of the dense
rubber limiting his deft hands.
“Fuck it.” Louis decides suddenly, yanking off the thick insulated glove
of his right hand, stripping it down to just his initial nitrile surgical
glove.
“Dr. Tomlinson!” Dr. Wesley gasps in horror from behind her mask,
watching on as Louis begins rapidly positioning the seeds without
adequate protection. “But…the radiation? It’s not safe, you could—”
“Quiet!” Louis snaps as he concentrates intently. With the removal of

the hampering rubber glove, Louis freely moves his fingers, angling
the radiation seeds to the correct target points while watching the
ultrasound monitor.
“Louis!” Niall screams through the intercom, worried voice echoing

through the operating room. He looks down at Louis through the glass
from the overhead observation gallery. “Put the goddamn glove back
on your hand now!”
“Louis, what the fuck are you doing?!” Zayn shrieks next, sharp tone
at the same stress level as Niall’s.
But Louis ignores them and keeps on manually placing the tiny charges
according to her brain map. He knows it’s dangerous, he knows he
runs the risk of getting some degree of radiation poisoning or worse,
but he doesn’t care. Right now, he can’t seem to give a single fuck
about his own well being. All Louis knows is that he has a short,
depleting window of only eighteen minutes to place the remainder of
the seeds in Avery’s brain before injecting the virus. Nothing outside
of that matters.
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There is a commotion going on in the gallery, Louis flicks his gaze up
briefly to catch a glimpse of Zayn shouting through the glass alongside
Niall, expression bathed in ridiculous amounts of worry. They care
about him, genuinely care about him, Louis knows that and most days
he’s more than thankful for it, but today there’s nothing his best
friends could do or say that could stop him from finishing this. Not
when Avery’s life is hanging in the balance.
“Don’t make me come down there!” Niall yells with his entire face
practically pressed against the intercom microphone, growing more
and more angry at Louis’ disregard for his own safety. “Louis! LOUIS!
Fucking hell!” Niall storms out of the gallery overhead, most likely on
his way to scrub in and force Louis to stop, not that Louis can stop.
There’s no alternative, he has to do this, he can’t go back now.
Not but two minutes later, Niall appears in Louis’ O.R., holding a mask
over his mouth. He is already breathing heavily, chest rising and falling
under his navy scrubs and there’s a protective lead vest haphazardly
strewn over his body, clearly done in a rush.
“Dr. Tomlinson, put the gloves back on. Now. This isn’t safe.” Louis
can tell that Niall is trying his best to remain calm and use a level
sounding voice. He speaks firmly with commanding authority, but his
eyes are wildly concerned, begging Louis to see reason.
“I can’t, Niall. I can’t.” Louis doesn’t even look up, trained eye focused
on the task before him, hands working frantically and intricately. “It
won’t work with the gloves—I can’t feel anything and I need to place
them all accurately or it won’t work. I don’t have a choice.”
“Louis, hey, listen alright, please Lou—your life is seriously at risk, ok?
You are in direct contact with highly toxic radiation.” Zayn talks over
the intercom, putting forth an obvious effort to keep his voice even
and level. “This may not even work—”
“It will work.” Louis insists, fingers working frantically against the
clock. It’s almost like he doesn’t even have control of his hands
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anymore, functioning like a machine set to autopilot in order to get
this done as fast as humanly possible.
“Come on, bro. You’re not thinking clearly.” Zayn tries again in
another forced calm tone, huddled next to wall in the observation
deck. “Please—you have to put the gloves back on.”
Niall casts a worried glance at the big timer on the wall counting the
exposure minutes. “With proper protection you can only work with
radiation safely for twenty-seven minutes at a time, max thirty if need
be. But you aren’t even properly protected and it’s already been sixteen
and—”
“I’m fine, ok? I’m fine.” Louis maintains adamantly, zoning in all his
focus on slipping the last few seeds into place, fingers moving rapidly
as he maneuvers gently within the delicate folds of brain tissue. “I
almost got it…”
“Stop it, Louis! You’re not fine!” Niall completely snaps, raising his
voice again furiously. “You have to stop! I can’t let you do this! It’s not
safe! Do you really not understand how dangerous this is!? Put the
fucking gloves back on now or so help me god—”
“Done! Done. I’m done—it’s ok.” Louis swiftly raises both his hands
from the surgical field, allowing himself a deep, much deserved breath.
The whole O.R. seems to also breathe a collective sigh of relief right
along with him, the strain of the room hanging heavily in the air.
“I’m scrubbing in.” Niall declares after a few charged beats of silence,
not at all appeased. “You shouldn’t be in here alone.”
“I’m not alone, but ok.” Louis is 100% certain that Niall plans on
babysitting him the rest of the way so he doesn’t make any more risky
decisions. But truthfully, Louis would take any and all risks if it meant
prolonging and saving this little girl’s life.
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The surgical team waste no time in moving the radiation equipment
out of the operating room. The cumbersome precautionary vests are
also removed as they begin to move on to the next and final portion
of the surgery. In Louis’ notes, he kept referring to this part of the
procedure as the “make it or break it” step, simply because it’s the part
of the surgery where he will begin the process of actually inserting the
virus into her tumor and if it doesn’t occur correctly, the prior steps
won’t even matter.
It’s a very tricky process and it must be timed perfectly, targeting the
tumor from two different access points to maximize success. They
only have one, single shot at this, so there is no room for mistakes.
Precision is the name of the game and Louis has no intention of losing.
Before injecting the virus, both he and Charlie need to insert the tiny
tube for the virus probe to glide into. Even though it’s only the set up
portion, like every step of this procedure, they still need to complete
the insertion of the tubing in sync with each other to ensure the
alignment is equal on both cerebral hemispheres.
Louis takes a deep breath and Charlie does the same, looking far more
nervous than he does. But Louis knows he made the right decision in
choosing her as his assist because despite how nervous he knows she
is, Charlie remains focused, keeping herself under control as she
carefully watches for Louis’ lead.
“Ok, Wesley…it’s just like how we practiced in the skills lab. You’ve
got this. Not too fast, not too slow.” Louis reminds as together they
begin to insert the dual opened tube with precise accuracy into the
targeted brain tissue.
They go slowly, inserting the long, thin tube millimeter by millimeter,

not wanting to put too much pressure on the brain or blood flow.
Although the tubing is extremely small, it could still offset the balanced
pressure maintained in the brain. Rapidly increased intracranial
pressure could lead to swelling or subarachnoid hemorrhaging which
could easily cause a whole litany of other complications that Louis
would rather not deal with.
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It only takes a few minutes for the tubing to be successfully placed, so
Louis and Charlie move on to the next step right away and begin
carefully placing the inner virus probe. They work just as steadily as
before, gradually pushing the probe into place. But it seems like the
probe has only been secured for a manner of seconds before the
warning sirens begin to sound out angrily from the monitoring
machines.
“V-tach!” The scrub nurse announces.
“Shit.” Louis immediately curses under his breath, sensing that

something like this might happen with another change in pressure. He
was hoping they could get passed this without hampering blood flow,
but it seems Avery’s heart and circulatory system aren’t adapting well
to the pressure.
“Starting compressions.” A second nurse decides, already moving into

position.
“No, stop!” Louis states firmly, gaze snapping up.
“Doctor?”
“It’ll disrupt the probe.” Louis explains briefly, not having the time to
go into the whole specifics of it. Instead he continues on with his plan,
taking the measured vial containing the virus and screwing the
apparatus into place to begin the injection. Charlie follows suit,
mirroring his actions on her side without question, although she does
cast him a few worried looks as the monitors continue to blare.
“Louis, you can’t be serious right now!” Niall shouts behind his mask
as he watches Louis continue with the procedure regardless of the vital
warnings. He’s just finished fully scrubbing in so he marches across
the O.R. to the operating table, already ready to take over the life
support protocol himself with his now gowned and gloved hands.
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“Just give me a minute...” Louis flicks his gaze up to him briefly, while
still finishing the viral injection set up.
“She doesn’t have a minute!” Niall insists, reading off the EKG.
“There’s still time—I can get this done and—”
“No!” Niall argues adamantly, clearly reaching a point far

beyond worried, if the strain of his voice is anything to go by. “There’s
no way you’ll have enough time to inject the virus before her heart
overworks itself and goes into arrest.”
Charlie is watching the two of them go back and forth, looking

uncertain as to whose side she should be on as the cautioning sounds
only seem to grow louder. Her hands remain still, unmoving as she
continues to hold her side of the probe steady.
“Hey Wesley, watch me…it’s ok.” Louis speaks gently, locking on to

her clearly nervous and panicked eyes. “Keep your hand steady, it’s ok.
Just like we practiced, yeah? Just watch me, Wesley…keep your eyes
on me…”
“Ok…” Charlie nods her head faintly, eyes wide and uncertain. Her
hands parallel Louis’ motions, following the plan they’ve practiced
together a thousand times before.
“Injecting the virus.” Louis announces, grasp steady on the injection

probe in his hand. He knows they have to do this as quickly as possible,
but he also knows that it needs to be injected at an even, balanced
pace.
“Louis, it’s already been two minutes since she became tachycardic.”
Zayn worries from above, watching the monitors just as closely.
“I know…” Louis mumbles, focus zoned in on the treatment screen,

outlining the viral injection progression.
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“I need to shock her heart.” Niall moves closer to the table as the
machines continue to scream angrily. “We have to start CPR before
we lose the rhythm.”
“No! If you shock her the probe will move and the virus won’t get to
her tumor.” Louis says, not taking his eyes away from the screen, still
pressing down on the injector.
“Louis—fuck! She is going into cardiac arrest!” Niall argues, losing his
composure as he points to the heart monitor display. He picks up the
defibrillation paddles from the surgical crash cart. “I’m shocking her.
Charge the paddles.”
“Don’t touch my patient, Horan!” Louis shouts authoritatively, voice

stern. “This is a live virus. It could revert and lead to encephalitis or
even a severe intracranial hemorrhage and a whole host of other
complications. Don’t touch her.”
Louis knows that although not recommended, the body can sustain
several minutes of cardiac arrest without treatment, but anything
longer than six minutes immediately starts to risk permanent
neurological damage due to the prolonged lack of oxygen and blood
flow to the brain and at the fifteen minute mark there’s a high risk of
brain death. Meaning that every single second matters right now,
because each passing moment will make it that much harder to
successfully resuscitate her organs.
Niall blinks several times at Louis in utter disbelief as he watches Louis

continue to inject the viral syringe, seeming to be at a crossroads. “Dr.
Wesley, go get Chief Aoki immediately.”
“Wesley, don’t you dare move. Don’t look at him. Look at me.” Louis
grits through his teeth, staring at her through his specs. “Keep your
hand steady. And don’t even think about moving.”
“Charlie.” Niall calls again, this time his voice is gentler, her name
spoken in a tone that sounds like it’s for her alone. He moves closer
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to his girlfriend, attempting to get her to make eye contact with him.
“Charlie…please…”
His voice has an obvious effect on Charlie, her expression so

conflicted. It’s not an easy position to be placed in, at odds with her
teacher and her significant other. Her eyes are wide behind her glasses,
but she keeps her gaze on Louis and her hands perfectly steady,
refraining from turning towards Niall near her opposite side.
“I…I really can’t, Niall…” Charlie whispers, sounding torn by her

decision. She keeps her hand trained on the gauge, emulating Louis’
actions. However, the treatment screen starts to indicate that their viral
injections are flowing out of sync, Charlie’s is going several increments
faster than Louis’.
“Wesley, just slow it down, ok?” Louis speaks to her evenly,

maintaining eye contact in hopes of getting her back on track. “Don’t
pay attention to anything else in this room, just focus on staying synced
with me. We’re nearly halfway there, you can do this, Wesley. Just
breathe. Focus…it’s ok...”
The machines are still sounding off, beeping incessantly as tachycardia

spikes are presenting urgently on the monitors, pulse readings through
the roof. The situation is becoming more imperative with each passing
second, Avery’s heart growing more and more stressed.
“Dr. Wesley, that’s an order!” Niall barks in an even louder voice,

changing his approach as the risk continues to rise. He stands with the
defibrillation paddles charged and ready.
“Dr. Horan, in this O.R., I am Dr. Wesley’s attending, not you!” Louis
snarls, eyes sharp and fierce behind his scope as he looks up at his
friend, while being sure to keep his hands steady.
“Louis, just listen to yourself!” Niall pleads once again. “If you place
the virus and her heart stops completely then what use is that?! She
will be dead!”
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“And if I don’t place the virus, she’ll be dead!” Louis screams back,
gaze focused back on the treatment screen indicting the progress. “I
know what I’m doing! Don’t touch her! She is my patient! I can save
her! I can save her!”
He knows how he sounds. Louis knows exactly how absurd and

illogical his actions must seem in this moment, but he can’t stop,
something inside him will not allow him to stop. Avery will die if left
untreated, that much is undeniable. She won’t even make it through
the remainder of the year if this procedure is not completed and Louis
can’t begin to think about that becoming a reality, he can’t even
stomach it.
“I’m getting The Chief.” Zayn announces from the gallery, already
running out of the secluded room.
“Lou, please just stop. She can still have a few more months to
live…you’ve done so much for her—you did it, really you did and I’m
so proud of you.” Niall sounds like he is trying to talk someone off of
a ledge, speaking to Louis as though he is poised to jump. “You already
cleared a good amount of the tumor out and placed the seeds, maybe
even that can give her more time and—”
“No! That’s not good enough!” Louis yells stubbornly, feeling his own
heart rate spiking emotionally. “It’ll just come back again if I don’t
finish this—I can finish it! I can save her! It’ll work—the treatment
will work, I can do it—if I don’t do it then everything I’ve done for
her will be pointless…”
“No…” Niall shakes his head, his voice becoming softer as he tries to
reach Louis. “No, that’s not true, you know that’s not true. None of
what you did for her was pointless, Lou. You gave her time. Time she
would have never had before. Time with her dad…time with you. It
matters, it all matters. You’ve done all you can do.”
Louis remains quiet, but his resolve has remained unchanged. Because
he hasn’t done all he can do, not yet. His index finger and thumb
remain locked on the syringe, slowly pressing down at the necessary
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speed as the viral injection continues to plunge into her cerebral
system. Charlie’s actions are still mirrored at his side, following his
every move diligently. The gauge has reached seventy-five percent
completion and Louis sure as hell is not about to stop now, not when
they’re so close.
“Louis, you’re my best friend and I have the utmost respect for you as
a person and as a colleague, but right now you aren’t thinking clearly
and I have to do what is medically sound. Charge to 200.” Niall
instructs the awaiting scrub nurse, deciding to take action before it’s
too late. He takes both paddles in his hands, hovering over Avery’s
still body.
“STOP! Don’t fucking touch my patient, Dr. Horan!” Louis roars

deafeningly, his booming voice reverberating around the walls of the
still room, causing the whole O.R. to fall silent around him. The only
sound is of the still beeping monitors, sounding off evenly at the same
eerie, warning intervals. “Just shut the fuck up and let me work!”
“Dr. Tomlinson!” Niall screams back forcefully, holding the

defibrillator set to Avery’s chest. His expression is torn right in two,
eyes pleading with Louis to find it within himself to see some sort of
reason. He clearly doesn’t want to overrule Louis’ judgment, but he
needs to do what he feels is medically necessary for the patient.
“Louis! Please!”
Louis doesn’t answer, he can’t spare the time to answer anymore, all
of his attention focused on properly injecting the final increments of
the virus. He’s working against a clock he has no control over, there’s
no telling how much Avery’s system can take, but he’s hoping that she
can hold on. Louis can feel Niall’s eyes on him, actually he can feel all
the eyes in the room on him, burrowing holes in his skin with the
intensity of their gazes, but he can’t care about that now. He keeps his
gaze locked only on the monitor displaying Avery’s brain activity,
watching as the screen finally glows green indicating the full viral dose
was successfully injected at one hundred percent.
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And at that moment, both he and Dr. Wesley immediately lift their
hands from their patient, taking a step back so that a charge can be
applied to her body. They don’t even need to say a single thing before,
Niall jumps right in with the paddles, not missing a single beat. “Clear.”
Niall holds the charged paddles to her chest as the shock waves run
through her small chest cavity to stabilize her heart. But it seems to be
too late and Niall’s worries are actualized as the shockable rhythm she
once had morphs into an unshockable one.
“She’s asystolic, doctor.” The nurse reports regretfully, reading off

Avery’s EKG and in that one, drawn out moment, Louis feels as
though his own heart has just been brutally speared right through the
middle. “Pulseless electrical activity.”
“Shit...” Niall curses frenziedly under his breath, immediately handing

the paddles back to the nurse before locking his hands together and
applying pressure to her chest. “Starting compressions.”
The room feels unbalanced, the level ground shifting and tilting on its
axis, while the walls swirl and spin upside-down. Louis stands on
horribly unsteady legs, wavering and weak. “What…w-what are h-her
levels at?” He asks breathlessly trying not to freak out, trying not to
lose his shit completely as he stares at the unnerving, angry flat line
blaring on the EKG heart monitor.
“ETCO2 readings barely holding steady at 9 mm HG.”

“Fuck…” Louis breathes inaudibly behind his mask, chest sinking like
an anchor threatening to pull him down to the floor.
“Push Epi.” Niall instructs, pounding down repeatedly on her chest in

a valiant attempt to get her heart going again. “We need that rhythm
back now.”
No time is wasted as vasopressors are pumped directly into Avery’s

central line, cycled through her system mechanically with
asynchronous ventilation and consistent chest compressions.
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“Stopping compressions to check rhythm.” Niall announces, pausing
his tireless movements as his attention zones in on the monitors. Beads
of sweat are forming along his forehead, just under his scrub cap and
his breathing has grown unsteady.
“No change, doctor. Still asystolic.” The scrub nurse reads after several
beats, the machines still beeping wildly. “No rhythm, no pulse.”
Charlie takes over compressions for Niall, keeping the administered

rhythm just as precise as he did. All the while, Louis is left standing
there with his mind reeling in spiraling circles, thinking about how
right now, in this terrifying moment Avery is medically dead. Lacking
a discernible pulse, deficient of a salvageable rhythm, unable to breathe
and sustain her organs without the aide of continuous
cardiopulmonary resuscitation. If they were to stop right here, lift up
their hands and watch the rest of her vital leads drop off to nonexistent
thrums, all that would be left to do is call time of death and that would
be the end of it, the end of her. Some doctors would, some doctors
would throw in the towel at a crossroads like this, but they aren’t some
doctors and they aren’t giving up so easy.
“More Epi! Give her more Epi!” Niall orders urgently, holding the
paddles ready for the first sign of a rhythmical peak.
Louis’ eyes are glued to the heart monitor, watching the lack of spikes
with baited breath. He is useless, absolutely useless. His bloodied,
gloved hands are still raised, frozen in time. It’s almost like being
trapped within his own body, unable to move, unable to do much of
anything but stare on in fear as time passes by him in slow beats. He
should be running the code, it should be him trading off compression
cycles with Niall, but he can’t do it. He can barely manage to breathe
on his own accord, feeling utterly paralyzed.
The long, dark tendrils of crippling panic begin to wind around his
fragile heart, gripping him to the point of breaking. He fights the
recurrent words floating louder and louder in his head, pounding
against his sanity, over and over and over again like a twisted broken
record.
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she’s not coming back, she’s not coming back, she’s not coming back from this
“Let’s check her rhythm again, stop compressions.” Niall decides and
Charlie pauses his resuscitative movements.
The O.R. is dead quiet once again apart for the constant beeping, every
eye watching the EKG with drawn breath. The line remains a dull,
lifeless, pulseless line, running straight across the screen without a
wave. Louis can’t even look at it anymore, he can’t bear to consider
what it all could mean, he can’t allow himself to draw a connection
between that eerie fatal line and all Avery is to him. And it takes every
last thing inside him to not fall to his knees on the sterile O.R. floor
and never get back up.
No one wants to call it, no one wants to say a thing and the silence is
almost worst. The silence feels like admitting a truth they all know, but
are too afraid to speak out loud. Louis lets his eyes fall closed,
squeezing them shut against the world as he tries to contain himself.
Even though he feels like a nuclear bomb set to detonate and self-
destruct at any moment.
“Is…is that a spike…?” Charlie peeps uncertainly, breaking the

silence. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration as she examines the
monitor.
“Where?” Niall questions, leaning in. Although Louis keeps his eyes
shut, not chancing a glance at the monitor as his heart pounds loudly
in his ears.
“There…right there...” Charlie points to a minuscule peak rising up in

the far corner, it’s repetitive, but could easily be written off as some
kind of aftershock. “That little wave. It’s a rhythm, right? It has to
be…it’s tiny…but maybe…I don’t know, maybe it’s…”
Niall shakes his head uncertainly at a loss. “All we can do is shock her
and see.”
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Charlie nods slowly, looking hopeful as she keeps an eye on the slight
rhythm pattern.
“Charge to 250.” Niall commands, repositioning the paddles as he

continues to run the code. Louis can’t stop himself from opening his
eyes, gaze focused on the monitor even though he thinks better of it.
It’s hardly a shockable rhythm, hardly any kind of rhythm at that, but
although it’s minor, it’s consistent and steady and worth a shot.
“Clear.”
don’t…
After the shock, the slight wave begins to balance out into a minor
ventricular fibrillation rhythm. It’s barely there, but it’s there.
don’t die…
“It’s V-fib!” The scrub nurse reads.
“Let’s go ahead and push Amiodarone.” Niall orders next. “We have
to stabilize her.”
don’t leave me…
“Yes, Dr. Horan.” The team hurriedly administers the drug through
her central line, doing everything to stabilize her heart.
“Charge again, up to 275 this time.” Niall directs, paddles ready once
again.
come on, aves…
“Clear.”
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Louis’ eyes are closed again and he is hardly breathing, immobile as his
own heart rate skyrockets out of control, echoing like steel drums in
his ears. Was he too bold? Should he have played it more safe? Did he
take it too far? It was risky—he knows it was so very risky but—no, if
he had a chance to do it all over he would still try. Louis would always
try to save the people he cares for. He will always be brave and try as
hard as he can no matter what. And right now isn’t the time for him
to let fear force him into giving up on her.
“Still in fibrillation, doctor.” The nurse reports, reading off the

scattered rhythm patterns.
Louis opens his eyes and determinedly walks around the machinery so
he is at Avery’s side, right near her head. He bends down near her
peaceful, intubated face. “Avery, listen to me, darling…” Louis
whispers to her, eyes desperately searching over her still face. “You are
not going to die today.”
“Charging to 300.”
“Aves, my love, you aren’t finished yet, sweetheart. Your life is just
getting started. There is so much more for you out there, so much you
haven’t done yet or experienced. You have such a beautiful future
ahead of you, it’s bright and it’s colorful and it’s yours. All yours. You
are not dying today.” Louis whispers boldly in confidence, speaking
just as much to himself as he is to her, feeling his eyes burn harshly.
“Charge again.”
“Your father needs you, Avery. He needs you so much, he’ll be so lost
without you. You’re everything to him, you always have been…and
not only that but—I…I need you...” He pauses weakly, never having
admitted these words out loud to her specifically because he was
always trying to keep his distance, trying not to cause more confusion
for her, but what does any of that matter now. “I need you too. Ever
since I held you as a baby in my arms for the first time, I’ve needed
you. God, I n-need you so much—more than you’ll ever know. You’re
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a part of me and you’ve always held my heart…I…I love you, Aves...I
love you...”
“Let’s go one last time…” Niall decides, sounding so very wary as he

gives the nod to the scrub nurse.
i need you, i need you, i need you now more than ever
The moment stretches on for centuries, every single pair of eyes are
glued to the heart monitor. Willing and hoping and praying and
anticipating. Louis feels his whole entire life flashing before his eyes,
nothing has ever felt as momentous and grave as this, his everything is
pinned to this moment. Louis feels like he is existing in a tormented
paradox; somehow his heart feels as though it’s beating incessantly out
of his chest, but also stopped beating entirely. And his breath is coming
in labored, heavy huffs behind his surgical mask, but at the same time
he is hardly breathing, unable to.
please don’t go, avery
Resuscitating her now would be a miracle, an astounding, rare miracle.

Louis knows that, he knows how much strain her body has been put
through during the last few hours, but he also knows that there has
always been something so strangely miraculous about his beautiful
golden-eyed girl.
please, my love…
A slight peak flares back on the monitor, higher than an unstable

ventricular fibrillation peak. And soon comes another, then another,
then another; each time growing that much stronger as the peaks begin
to stabilize into a marginally normalized rhythm.
“We have sinus rhythm.”
“Oh my god…” Louis exhales shakily, nearly falling backwards

completely and collapsing with crippling relief, letting out all the
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accumulated breath he’s been holding. He can hardly stand, feeling
lightheaded as he reaches a hand out to brace the operating table.
“Pressure is low, but rising steadily.” Niall sighs, almost in disbelief,

brow wet with stressed sweat. “Good work, everyone.”
The entire O.R. erupts with joyous celebration and relief, everyone in
the room cheering and clapping, except for Louis who still stands
stagnant, completely frozen with unfocused eyes, gloved hands
hanging down limply against his sides.
“Louis?” Niall eyes him carefully, noticing how stiff and pale he looks.
“Dr. Tomlinson, are you alright?” Dr. Wesley follows, head tilted with
concern as Louis’ eyes remain unresponsive.
Chief Aoki and Zayn burst hurriedly into the O.R. next, each holding
masks to their faces.
“What’s going on in here?” Steve asks immediately, scanning across

the different faces as he searches for an answer. His gaze falls on Louis,
looking to him expectantly. “Dr. Tomlinson, give me a status report.”
But Louis doesn’t move. He doesn’t move and he doesn’t speak, face
devoid of any one tangible emotion as though in a trance state of
shock. Meanwhile, everyone else in the O.R. are looking around
curiously at one another, not knowing what exactly to do or say next
without Louis’ command.
Zayn takes a few steps towards him, brow furrowed with deepening
concern. “Hey, Tomlinson, you good?”
Louis blinks twice, slowly and still not completely focused on any one
thing, looking right through Zayn. His mind feels like screeching static
and his body weighted heavy like lead, but he blinks once more,
removing the ocular scope from his head.
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“Um…Dr. Wesley…you can uh…close…Dr. Horan will assist—it’s
um…good practice for you—yeah…” Louis mumbles weakly,
speaking in a haze as he turns on his heel and heads towards the
sterilized door, pushing past both The Chief and his friend without
another word. He strips himself of his soiled gown and gloves, yanking
his mask from his face and disposing of all of the garments quickly
before crossing the barrier of the O.R. to exit.
Louis keeps walking, not looking back even as his name is repeatedly
called. He stumbles out of the O.R. in an absolute daze, feeling utterly
off balance and disoriented. At first he mildly wonders if maybe he’s
made himself sick from the extended radiation exposure, but then he
realizes that’s not at all why he feels like this. This feels worse than
anything radiation poisoning could do to his body.
she’s ok, she’s ok, she’s ok
Louis pushes into the first supply closet he sees, locking the door
behind him as he slowly sinks down to the floor. His heart is beating
wildly, practically out of his chest and his fingers can finally tremble as
they’ve been dying to tremble for hours since he started the surgery.
God, he was so scared. The whole time he was so fucking scared. And
the feeling hasn’t left him, it’s only intensified and Louis is still fucking
terrified out of his mind. The bravery and fearlessness laced through
rising adrenaline that had come over him in the O.R., that had kept
him standing upright and pushing on, is now replaced with sheer
terror. Avery could have died in there. He could have actually killed her.
He nearly did kill her.
but she didn’t die, she’s alive
It feels so unreal, terrifying and so fucking unreal. The tremor that

started in his hands, rattles its way up his arms, soon affecting his
whole body until he’s left shaking against himself, trembling through
the harsh current of ceaseless panic.
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she’s alive, she’s ok, she’s alive
Louis buries his head in his drawn up knees, cocooning himself away
from the world as tightly as he can as he so desperately tries to reel in
his emotions and calm back down. But the opposite effect happens as
a choked sob escapes his throat. And before he knows it, Louis is full
on crying, tears roaring perpetually down his flushed cheeks in hot
waves.
And how is it that he has cried more times in the past month than he
has in the past eighteen years of his life? How is it that he has no
control over his impending emotions anymore and every single thing
seems to knock the shit right out of him? Maybe it’s because he finds
himself unconditionally caring about someone so much more than
reasonably imaginable, to the point where the concept of losing them
feels akin to death itself.
Honest to god, it truly felt like he died in that operating room—like he

physically died, watching that monitor flat line as though his heart is
not only emotionally linked to Avery’s, but also physically. It’s an
emptiness paralleled to what he’s experienced in the past, and because
of its familiarity, the feeling is manifested in tenfold, shaking him down
to his very core. And maybe that’s what death feels like; like watching
everything you love be stripped away without being able to do a damn
thing to stop it.
Never in his life has fear swallowed him alive like that, to utterly
paralyzing degrees. It was a miracle that she stabilized, a rare and
shocking miracle that somehow that little girl was able to defy all odds
and pull out of that ordeal alive. And Louis is left spinning, struggling
to process all that he witnessed because he has no idea how to even
begin to explain it, not medically, not physically and certainly not
emotionally. All Louis knows is that there is still a physical pain
unfurling sharply from the center of his chest as he remembers, in
vivid detail, the moment he thought he nearly lost his Aves for good.
Ever since his family died, Louis has been going through life acting
like he has nothing to lose. For the most part he has stayed aloof,
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remaining distant and leaving massive portions of himself closed off
and hidden from the world. He’s been successful at it for years, even
with his best friends. There’s always a piece of him that holds back,
that pulls away, a safeguarding mechanism he set in place years ago to
protect himself. It’s what kept him from releasing emotion, from
crying, from properly grieving, from truly feeling everything real
happening around him. And it allows him the space to convince
himself that there’s nothing in his life left to lose. How can there be
anything left to lose if he never lets anyone in, if he never allows
himself the chance to feel, to care, but if today proves anything, he
has everything to lose.
The lifelong battle against his own stifled emotions has been getting
the best of him since the day Harry walked into his life. Louis has been
fighting it, he’s been fighting against himself with all his might, but
with each new day that he begins to let go of the reins a little, comes
new realizations about who he really is, opening doors to feelings he
never thought he’d feel again.
But now that he’s feeling these emotions, experiencing all the many
ways they can shape and change his life, he doesn’t understand how
anyone can live like this. How does anyone on this earth live with a
binding feeling, as overwhelming as this, coursing through them every
minute of the day? How is he supposed to function day-to-day when
all he can do is worry—worry about potentially losing the very people
who hold his trampled heart in the palm of their hands.
Louis doesn’t properly remember what it feels like to have a family, all
he can remember is the feeling of losing one. And he’s so fucking
scared of that feeling, traumatized by the horribly lonesome,
abandoned feeling that lingers long after. It haunts him continually—
mercilessly, to the point where Louis has developed a twisted sense of
trepidation when it comes to the concept of love and being in love and
falling in love, terrified of the possibility that in a blink of an eye
everything he ever cared about could be gone.
But he wants to believe that life isn’t always like that, with everything
Louis so desperately wants to believe that things really do work out
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sometimes and his fears are nothing but irrational thoughts. But as he
sits crumpled up into a ball on the supply closet floor, uncontrollably
sobbing into the knees of his scrub pants, Louis can only feel that same
heartrending fear. He can only feel the raw, exposed scar tissue his past
tragedies have harrowingly left on his heart time and time again.
And truth be told, it doesn’t feel quite so irrational after all.
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CHAPTER 17
make it whole again.
||✚||
Time is such an odd and peculiar thing. He’s thought about it before,
he’s sure. In fact, He’s probably reflected upon the concept a million
and one times before, but yet it still feels strange that a single second
can be made to feel like a stretched-out eternity while somehow on the
same plane of existence, hours can pass in what could only be
described as an instant.
Harry has felt the strange, confusing effects of both peculiarities in his
life, but never has there been a time when the consistency of the clock
has been so misconstrued in his mind. Seeming to slow down and
speed up at will, crawling by in painfully slow increments, while also
jumping from hour to hour in a rushed blur, holding him at the mercy
of the ticking clock for the past nineteen hours.
Starting at 8:34 A.M. when Harry first settles down in the waiting
room, joined by Liam supportively at his side. Together they talk and
talk, Liam serving as the perfect distraction for Harry’s thoughts. Harry
talks himself in circles, essentially telling Liam his entire life story from
birth just to keep himself active and occupied. But Liam, with his kind
eyes and gentle demeanor, has a way of making Harry feel so
comfortable, listening to every last thing he says like it’s the most
fascinating thing he’s ever heard. Harry talks himself nearly to death
by 12:13 P.M. and that’s when it becomes Liam’s turn to spill his side.
And if Harry thought he could talk, it’s nothing compared to the way
Liam can, but Harry welcomes it all fully, enjoying every minute of
conversation and company with him.
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At 2:32 P.M. Harry gets up to take a little walk around the grounds,
legs feeling as unsteady and weak as stilts, but the movement feels
necessary. Liam of course comes along, giving Harry a new route
around the hospital that he’s never been on before, but actually quite
likes.
They’re back in the waiting room by 4:18 P.M. and Liam decides that
Harry needs to eat something, despite Harry’s continued refusals. Liam
runs off to get him food anyway, returning only twenty minutes later
with deliciously smelling food for the both of them that Harry can
hardly look at, let alone stomach, but he’s continually grateful to Liam
regardless.
Around 5:49 P.M. Harry just can’t take it anymore and he breaks down
and cries, releasing some of the accumulating uneasiness rising up
inside him. Liam holds him the entire time, and by the time 7:56 P.M.
rolls around, Harry is balled up so tightly around Liam, he might as
well be in his lap. Spending an entire day with Liam in the close
capacity that they’ve been in, has been like some kind of accelerated
relationship building, to the point where Harry basically trusts Liam
with his entire life.
9:27 P.M. is when Harry closes his eyes only to wake up at 9:32 P.M.
thinking it has been hours and wishing that he could somehow sleep
right through all of this. He’s completely exhausted and he would sleep
if he could find a way to sleep. A way to push everything else aside and
grant his body what it so desperately craves.
At 10:28 P.M. Liam brings him fresh coffee, which helps a little; Harry
focuses his delirious attention on the sensation of the warm liquid
warming up his throat. But moments later at 10:43 P.M., a wave of
anxiety comes over him stronger than Harry’s ever known and
suddenly he can’t stop thinking about what Louis might be doing in
this exact moment, what step of the procedure he’s on, what his
thoughts look like, what his fears look like.
Can Louis tell if she’s going to make it? Can he predict the outcome
based on what he’s already done so far? What has he done so far? Is
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she even stable right now? What are her vital stats like? What if she’s
already dead and no one has the heart to tell him yet?
It’s a downward spiral of anxious thoughts and vexed fears, but

somehow Liam combats them all with calm, reassuring answers,
talking Harry through every last one of his uncertainties. And Harry
swears to god, that he doesn’t know what he would have done all this
time without Liam sitting patiently by his side, knowing exactly when
to talk and when to be silent. He can’t imagine spending this entire
time alone with his own demons and he thanks every single guardian
angel that he might have for sending him Liam Payne.
By 12:51 A.M. Harry is sick of coffee. So fucking sick of fucking

hospital coffee. He’s downed more cups than he can count, and it
doesn’t even have a real taste anymore. Or maybe he just can’t taste
anything anymore, can’t feel anything anymore. Nothing but residual
anxiety. He’s barely holding himself together and Harry doesn’t know
how much more waiting his strained heart can take. The sheer stress
alone has elevated his heartrate tenfold, to a range that even he knows
can’t be healthy. But Harry just tries his best to breathe, spending the
next hour focusing solely on his breathing. He hears Louis’ calm voice
in his head, whispering in his ear, reminding him to just inhale and
exhale. He lets his eyes drift and takes in one deep breath after another
and in time he feels his heartrate steadily begin to come down.
But it all goes to shit at 3:51 A.M. because that’s when Harry’s heart
seems to stop beating altogether.
With Harry’s head rested comfortably on Liam’s sturdy shoulder, he

can feel the exact moment Liam tenses up. Feel the second Liam’s
body goes stiff, long before his own name is called, and he knows
exactly what’s to come next.
“Harry?”
Harry shuts his eyes for a beat, inhaling once, then twice, before
gradually lifting his heavy head up to the approaching doctor standing
before him. And he already feels like throwing up, nausea waving right
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over him like a flood to his senses. He can’t handle this, he can’t do
this again. It’s far too familiar for anyone to be forced to relive.
He’s about to bolt, to cover his ears and scream, to shout at the top of
his lungs, to cover his eyes and cry, to do anything but sit here and
retrace memories that haven’t even had a chance to fade in his mind.
But then he feels the comforting touch of Liam’s warm hand back
around his, holding on tightly, grounding him and serving to remind
him that it’s not the same and he’s not all alone and maybe, just maybe
things will be different this time around.
Harry squeezes Liam’s hand back, or maybe he’s hardly squeezing it

all. It’s hard to tell really, hard to feel anything but the thrum of rising
dread boiling under his skin. He forces himself to focus, weakly
scanning the face of the doctor in front of him, and he grows even
more faint when he realizes that it’s not Louis’ face looking back at
him. And it only now dawns on him that the voice that called his name
defiantly wasn’t Louis’ either, but Niall’s.
Liam looks equally confused by the lack of Louis’ presence and it only
causes Harry to panic further. Because if Louis isn’t here, then
whatever Niall has to say to him can’t be good. Maybe Louis doesn’t
know how to break the news to him this time, maybe it’s too much for
even him to come to grips with. No, but that can’t be true because if
the outcome was bad, Louis would be here—he would be here no
matter what, he always has been. Harry doesn’t even know if he could
stomach hearing any bad news without Louis by his side. He softens
the initial blow, no matter how painful or horrifying, Louis somehow
makes it bearable, makes it sufferable.
Harry stands to his feet, refusing to sit any longer, trying to get out of
his own head. He’s getting ahead of himself—he knows it, but he can’t
help it. He wants to answer calmly, he wants to get through this with
a level head, but maybe it’s too late for any of that.
“Dr. Horan? Where’s…w-where is Louis?” Harry stutters unsurely

under bated breath, well acquainted with the familiar panic filling his
chest to the very brim. It’s no surprise to Harry when he feels tears
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already prickling at the corners of his eyes, burning under the rims.
And he doesn’t even want to ask, he doesn’t want to hear the words
that he knows will be his very undoing. “Did it…go bad? Is…is that
w-why he’s—I mean did s-she…erm d-did…is she g-gone—”
“No, no! Harry, no.” Niall rushes to say, holding both of his hands to
Harry’s nearly trembling shoulders. He then tugs Harry towards his
chest into a reassuring hug Harry wasn’t expecting, but definitely
appreciates. “She made it.” Niall whispers in what sounds like genuine
awe and wonder. “She made it through the surgery.”
“W-What…” Harry blinks at a loss, dry mouth hanging open in shock.

He’s not even sure the word came out of his mouth at all. He heard
Niall, or he thought he did but…he doesn’t believe his ears—can’t risk
believing his ears because he’s too afraid of letting his guard down long
enough to accept the truth.
Niall pulls back to look right into Harry’s eyes, smiling as he nods his
head. “Harry, she’s ok. Your daughter is ok. She’s stable.”
It’s not that Harry didn’t have every single faith in Louis, because
he did, of course he did. He trusts Louis with everything and Harry
always knew that Louis would do the very best that he could. It’s just
that Harry’s life has always been filled with incessant disappointments
and unremitting heartbreaks and because of that, he spent the last
nineteen hours in the waiting room steeling himself up for the
potential news of his daughter not making it out of surgery.
But to hear that his Avery, his baby, is alive. That she is not only alive,
but she made it through the surgery successfully and that she’s
currently stable, is more than Harry can possibly take. And right now,
he is so grateful that Niall hasn’t let go of his shoulders yet, because he
feels too overcome to stand on his own, legs threatening to give out
completely.
“Whoa, Harry. Are you alright?” Niall catches him, strong arms taking
on Harry’s full weight as he nearly passes out against him. “Here let’s
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sit back down.” Niall eases him back into one of the waiting chairs,
settling down next to him as Liam follows suit.
“S-She’s—she’s really o-ok?” Harry asks Niall uncertainly, eyes

overflowing with a sudden rush of tears.
“Yes.” Niall smiles warmly, hand on Harry’s back in reassurance. “She

really is ok.”
And Harry couldn’t possibly stop any of his emotions after hearing
that, after finally accepting it as the truth. He completely breaks down
right then and there, holding his head in his hands, hunched over
himself as the news continuously waves over him. The tears flow
unstoppably down his face, but for once they are tears of relief, tears
of happiness, tears of a father who won’t have to know the pain of
burying his only child.
“Happy tears this time I hope.” Liam gently pulls Harry towards him,
offering his shoulder to cry on and holding Harry securely just as he
has all night.
“Avery isn’t awake yet, but her vital stats are climbing and she’s
completely stable. We are keeping her sedated for a few more hours to
give her body a chance to recuperate from the procedure.” Niall
explains, giving Harry further insight. “We won’t know for certain how
well her body has taken the treatment until we compare her pre-op
and post-op scans as well as conduct a thorough assessment, but
everything seems very promising at this point.”
“T-Thank you s-so much.” Harry turns and throws his arms around
Niall, engulfing him into a grateful hug.
“Oh, it was all Louis—it was his plan and he pulled it off. He
was…absolutely brilliant. He never gave up on her. Not once.” Niall
praises. “If it wasn’t for him and how headstrong and determined he
is, I truthfully don’t know how it would have ended.”
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Harry lifts his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he
sniffles. He knows he looks a right mess, but he can’t seem to care
right now. “W-Where is he? I h-have to talk to him.”
“He um…I…erm…” Niall stammers, sharing a long, unspoken look

with Liam, who begins to furrow his brow in concern.
Harry looks between the two of them, confusion wrinkling his features
as he waits for Niall to answer. “Where is Louis?”
“Niall, what happened?” Liam urges, tone of voice shifting as he leans

closer to Niall.
Niall looks torn, opening his mouth to speak, but no words coming
out for several strung-out seconds. Then he directs his attention to
Liam, inclined towards him. “Dr. Payne, could I speak with you for a
moment?”
“Yes, of course.” Liam nods to his colleague before addressing Harry

in a gentle, soothing voice. “We’ll be right back, ok Harry. Excuse us.”
Niall and Liam stand off to the corner in what appears to be a serious
discussion. Harry watches the entire thing, becoming more curious the
longer they’re away. Niall tells Liam something and Liam’s eyebrows
shoot up as he shakes his head, eyes going wide. They go back and
forth for a while after that, seeming to deliberate with each other about
something. Liam glances to Harry briefly as the conversation
continues and Harry can only sit there in helpless confusion.
When they both finally return, it’s Liam who speaks first, tone more
serious than Harry’s heard it all night. “Harry, I think there are some
things you should know.”
“Ok…” Harry sniffles, eyes shifting back and forth from Liam to
Niall, not knowing who to focus on. His throat feels so dry all of a
sudden and he doesn’t at all like the tonal shift this conversation has
taken on.
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“There’s a fine line here that we’re about to cross by telling you
this…but…” Liam pauses, taking his words one at a time as he casts
a brief look to Niall at his side. “We feel like you should know because
of your relationship to Louis.”
That’s when Harry really starts to internally worry, knowing his

emotions are transparent on his face. “Is…is something wrong? Did
something happen to him?”
“The surgery itself was a success, like I said before, but um…it put
Louis in a really tough position…a position I don’t know if he was
ready to handle.” Niall tries to explain, but it seems he doesn’t even
know where to start. He looks exhausted, with clear lines of worry
pulling at his eyes. “It was so hard on him, Harry. Not just the physical
length of the procedure or the skill involved but…the mental stress—
his emotions were tied to everything he did and he…he just…”
Harry feels as though he is hanging off of Niall’s every word, afraid to

hear what’s to come, but also needing to hear it more than anything.
“He what…”
“You know him—probably better than anyone else, you know more
about his past, about what he hides inside every day. You know exactly
how much he cares. Louis cares with every part of himself and
today…in there…he just—he stopped thinking. He wasn’t operating
as an experienced surgeon would…he wasn’t even acting like
himself—he risked his life in there, Harry.” Niall emphasizes, shaking
his head at a loss for what to say next. “Without hesitation he broke
code and he made dangerous decisions that jeopardized his own health
and safety—in all the years I’ve known and worked with him, I’ve
never seen him like that before…”
Harry can only manage to gasp breathlessly in alarm, holding a hand

over his chest as he feels his heart rate quicken at the prospect of Louis
being hurt in any capacity. He wants to be mad, mad that Louis would
do anything to put himself in harm’s way, but Harry also knows exactly
why he did it. And if the roles were somehow reversed Harry knows
he wouldn’t have done any differently. Still, putting himself in Louis’
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shoes, remembering exactly how traumatized he is, how that same
trauma has shaped him into who he currently is as a person, Harry
can’t help but feel a deep sense of unease, unnerved worry clutched to
his heart unlike ever before.
“Where is he now?” Harry is up on his feet before he’s even registered

the act of standing, ready to sprint off and find Louis wherever he may
be.
“Harry—”
“No…no, w-where is he?” Harry questions again, the fluctuation of

his voice growing frantic and unsteady. It’s hard to remain calm when
all he can picture is Louis falling apart alone somewhere, trying to deal
with all of this by himself. He shouldn’t be alone, especially not after
something as severe as this, after imperiling every aspect of himself in
such dangerous ways. The mere thought of Louis left completely alone
at a time like this is a nightmare for Harry to envision, an honest to
god nightmare.
“We don’t know.” Niall tries to explain. “He ran out of the O.R. over
an hour ago and I haven’t seen him since. Zayn and Charlie are looking
everywhere for him right now.”
Harry doesn’t care who is looking for him, because it’s not enough,
not if Louis is still missing. He won’t ever be calm until Louis is found,
until he is safe in Harry’s arms again. “I have to find him. I have to—
”
“Harry, calm down.” Liam places his hands on Harry’s shoulders,

trying to focus him. “We’ll find him, he’s here somewhere.”
Harry shakes his head adamantly, unable to stop picturing Louis

broken and isolated somewhere. “But I need to be with him…I…I…”
“I know.” Liam nods, kind eyes empathetic and so full of

understanding.
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“He’s not o-ok…there’s no way he’s ok and, a-and I—”
“We’ll find him.” Liam assures, always somehow able to speak in

confidence. He glances back to Niall. “Where have you checked so
far?”
“A few nurses said that they saw him go to the supply closet by O.R.
three, but he’s not there anymore. And he’s not in the attendings’
lounge or down in the basement.”
“The gift shop?” Liam suggests.
“Zayn just checked there and they said that Louis hasn’t been by at all
today.” Niall replies. “But his car is still here in his spot, so we at least
know that he didn’t leave the hospital.”
Harry blindly watches them go back and forth, hardly even listening as
he thinks to himself. There’s only so many places that Louis would
go—yes, it’s a huge hospital with no shortage of places he could go,
but it’s only about where he actually would. Harry closes his eyes for a
moment, focusing his thoughts.
where are you, lou?
“What about an on-call room or something?” Liam throws out,

thinking out loud.
“He hates on-call rooms, you know that.” Niall reminds obviously.
Liam nods slightly, but also shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah…but maybe
he needed to sleep or—”
“I think I know where he is…” Harry blurts suddenly, cutting Liam

short as it dawns on him as clear as day.
Niall and Liam both turn to Harry simultaneously, eyeing him

curiously. “What? How do you know?”
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Harry slowly shakes his head, frowning a bit to himself. “I don’t
know…but I need one of your badges.”
||✚||
Harry gets off of the lift in a rush, not wasting a single second as he
crosses the hall, heading towards the only door at the far end of it.
He’s got Liam’s SSMC ID badge ready in his hand, and as soon as he
reaches the heavy door, he swipes it against the access pad until it
glows green and clicks open.
The air is unexpectedly brisk at this altitude, whipping Harry’s curls

from his face the moment he steps out onto the rooftop. The area
appears completely empty at first glance, it’s hardly light out yet, only
the beginning hues of deep orange glow over the shadowed edges of
the building. It’s a wide roof, expansive as it covers the vicinity of an
entire hospital building, but there aren’t too many places to hide, aside
from the hidden corners.
“Louis…Lou—are you there?” Harry calls unsurely, taking the first

few steps out onto the roof with his chilled hands stuffed into the front
pocket of his sweatshirt. “…It’s me…it’s Harry…”
There’s no answer to his call; all that can be heard is the sound of early
morning traffic bustling from down below. But still, Harry knows
Louis is up here somewhere, he can feel it. As strange as that might be
to admit, Harry knows without a doubt in his mind that this is where
Louis would go.
“Please Lou…I just want to know if you’re ok…” Harry tries again,
his voice carrying with the breeze as he rounds the first corner. “Just
let me know you’re ok...”
The silence drags on further still, but Harry can’t bring himself to give
up and leave, not this easily. Minutes are quietly passing him by, but
he is compelled to keep going, conflicted by something he doesn’t
even fully understand.
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Harry hears him before he actually sees him. He reaches another
corner and turns to find Louis sat against the far wall of the roof with
his knees pulled up against his chest, folded into a crumpled ball. And
just as Harry imagined, it’s clear that Louis is so, so very far from being
ok. His entire face is red and ruddy, hair completely disheveled by the
blowing wind as he hiccups back wretched sobs from somewhere deep
down in his throat.
“Oh Lou.” Harry breathes out the moment he first lays eyes on him.
It’s devastating to see him held so small and so frightened, unlike his
usual self. He’s clearly traumatized, all that Louis just went through
evident on his splotchy, tearstained face.
As Louis looks up and his eyes come to recognize Harry standing

before him, his relieved face begs a silent question, seeming to
wordlessly wonder how Harry was able to find him. But truthfully,
Harry couldn’t answer that question if he tried because he has no
earthly idea. It doesn’t logically make sense why Harry knew to come
up here, he just did. He can’t explain it and he would never try to, all
he knows is that when it comes to Louis, Harry would go straight to
hell and back for him.
i’d always find you…
Harry doesn’t hesitate to drop right to his knees and pull Louis into
his arms, crowding his space. Louis doesn’t fight him, still crying as he
buries his face against Harry’s chest, seeming to fall apart that much
more in his arms.
“H-Harry…” Louis cries his name through a broken gasp as he clings

to him, fingers bunching up the material of Harry’s jacket. His voice
has an air of relief to it, but it sounds so desperately hoarse and the
raw, broken strain of it brings instant tears to Harry’s eyes. Within
seconds Louis’ entire body is curled around Harry as though he’s
somehow convinced that at any minute, he’s going to lose him.
“I’m here, I’m right here.” Harry murmurs to the top of his head, both
arms encircled tightly around Louis’ back to console him. He knows
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exactly what it’s like to not feel grounded despite the solid earth at his
feet, to feel displaced in a moment with nothing to hold him down.
Held this close together, Harry can feel the sporadic racing of Louis’
heartbeat, thumping along wildly with his quivering frame. He can feel
every time Louis’ lungs attempt to take in a new breath, how staggered
and strangled it feels with his continued sobs, like no matter how hard
he tries, he can’t seem to catch his breath.
And Harry feels the gravity of every sob and weight of each tear Louis
sheds as if it was originally born from his own chest. It hurts to see the
man he loves so shaken, so distraught, held so small and shattered in
his arms. There are no words adequate enough to describe the internal
anguish Harry feels in this moment, witnessing Louis’ torment and not
being able to vanquish it away. It’s the same exact torturous feeling
Harry felt previously when Louis cried in his arms as they laid in the
dewy meadow. It’s beyond heartrending and Harry swears he wouldn’t
hesitate to take his own heart clean apart if it helps Louis’ begin beat
again.
“I’m so sorry, baby…” Harry finds himself mumbling softly, lips

pressed to Louis’ temple as he lets the soft endearment slip. He
gradually nuzzles his nose down, gliding his hand up to Louis’ hair to
cradle his head. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
He risked so much—of his career, of himself, of his sanity. It was a lot

to ask of any one person, but Louis was so determined not to lose
another person in his life that he didn’t care about the risk or the
detrimental cost to himself. Harry’s never known anyone more
selflessly brave, anyone more dedicated and valiantly devoted to doing
good no matter what.
Without Louis needing to speak a word, Harry knows that it’s not just
the surgery or this one stripped moment that’s triggered him so; it’s an
accumulation of displaced feelings and overlooked fears, guarded
memories and misdirected emotions teeming out of him with no place
to go.
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God, and the emotions themselves truly are all over, coming from
every possible angle and approach, nearly indiscernible at this point.
Harry isn’t certain whether he should feel more thankful or sorry,
whether his response should be more rooted in fear over Louis’
wellbeing or anger that it’s somehow gotten this bad. Fighting between
feelings of tremendous pride for Louis swelling up in his heart,
alongside thoughts of consuming worry plaguing his consciousness.
And if it’s this confusing and overwhelming for Harry to process, he
can’t even imagine all that Louis must be feeling inside.
They sit together, inseparable, tangled and twisted up on the roof of

the hospital, both crying in each other’s arms. But Harry couldn’t care
less about himself right now, his primary focus is still only on
reassuring Louis, on calming him down.
Louis is mumbling quiet, unintelligible words though his sobs, voice

muffled against the material of Harry’s hoodie. With the sound of the
whistling wind blowing across the rooftop, Harry can’t even make out
what he’s saying, but it tugs at his heart regardless. Louis is scared,
genuinely scared, panicked right out of his mind, and it’s terrifying how
easily old scars of residual loss can feel as new as freshly inflicted
wounds if pressured enough, if tormented enough, aggravated and
teased into bleeding once again.
The longer Harry holds his arms around Louis, the more he begins to
settle. The sobs begin to slow down and his breathing becomes a bit
more regulated. Louis still hasn’t loosened his grip around Harry in the
slightest, holding on for dear life. Every so often his body will still
shiver and Harry realizes that it’s not just the settling panic, but that
his whole body is chilled. Harry isn’t sure how long Louis was out here
before he got to him, but he isn’t even wearing his lab coat, only
covered by the thin layer of his scrubs. He probably wasn’t thinking
about any of it when he rushed up here, just needing to escape to a
quiet moment more than anything else.
Harry pulls back enough to slip off his sweatshirt, unhesitant to gently
slide it over Louis’ head and pull his bare arms through the sleeves. He
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gently holds both of his warm hands to the cold skin of Louis’ face,
pushing his hair back from where it’s fallen and flopped over his eyes.
“You’re ok…” Harry whispers reassuringly, thumbing away the still

falling water tracks as he softly traces the sides of Louis’ face. Louis’
arms have found their way back around Harry’s waist where they
belong, seeming unwilling and unable to let him go for too long. He
keeps his eyes locked on Harry’s, searching them without a word as
Harry holds his head with both his hands. “You’re ok now, Lou.”
They hold each other’s gaze in the silent stillness of the dawn. The sun
is just starting to rise over the Seattle city skyline, the early trickles of
morning light reflecting across the teary clear blue of Louis’ eyes. It’s
striking how much more blue his eyes become when he cries, rich and
vibrant, and Harry is utterly captivated. He’s beautiful in this light,
even in such profound heartbreak and distress, Louis is still so
tragically beautiful. The fresh new rays of the rising sun cast a fresh glow
upon his face that could only ever be described as ethereal, curving
against his sharp cheekbones, dusting his long eyelashes, and all Harry
knows is that he is so in love with Louis. So in love that it hurts, and
it aches, expanding so far outside of himself, it can’t even begin to be
contained.
He’s never loved anyone like he loves Louis, never felt anything close
to what he feels for him. Harry has never in his life believed in anything
as much as he believes in all that Louis is, and he’s never known and
understood someone quite like he inherently knows Louis, with a deep
intensity unprecedented by any other feeling.
The complexities that compel Louis are multifarious, an intricate work

of beautiful art comprised of the devastated moments of his past
molding and defining who he is. There are pieces of himself that deny
him from fully feeling things for what they are. And maybe that’s why
when it comes to the concept of love, Louis doesn’t always feel it as
he should—doesn’t allow himself to feel it, to get close to it, not
anymore. Whether Louis even believes Harry or not, Harry doesn’t
know, but Harry meant it more than anything he has ever said,
723
he loves Louis. Completely, unconditionally, no matter what comes
next or what has already come before.
All Harry wants is to see him happy, see him carefree and
light. Laughing. Oh, how lovely and young Louis looks when he laughs,
bright eyes squinted at the corners, wide smile curtained by the
prettiest lips. Harry remembers all the times they laughed together, all
the times Harry nearly forgot to breathe because he was so mesmerized
by the beautiful boy next to him. And Harry knows the role he played
in diminishing the brightness in Louis’ eyes, he knows exactly how
much damage he did all those years ago, but as much as it may be to
ask of him, Harry wants Louis to just let him try. Try to help him heal
with all the love Harry has for him, try to shoulder the encumbering
weight of all that burdens Louis down. Harry would do anything to
stop the falling of Louis’ tears, he would do absolutely anything to find
a way to calm his fears. Beneath all the pain, behind the layers of hurt,
there’s still a beautiful boy with the brightest laugh in the world and
Harry is determined to bring him back.
“Lou…I love you…” Harry can’t help himself from saying it aloud,
can’t help himself from wanting Louis to feel as loved as he is. He’s
not trying to overwhelm him, but simply to remind him and make him
feel all the love Harry will always have for him. He refuses to let any
more time pass them by without Louis knowing and understanding
just how loved by him he really is. “I love you so much.”
Louis hears him, Harry knows that he does, and he hasn’t taken his
gaze off of Harry once since locking eyes with him. Quiet tears roll
down his still wet cheeks as he remains wordless and Harry didn’t
realize until now how much he wants Louis to say it back—needs him
to say it. Harry knows that he could make Louis happy, so very happy
and he could bring that smile back and relight the brightness in his
eyes and Harry swears that he would go to the far ends of the earth to
do it.
Louis tilts his head to the side gradually as he continues to gaze openly
at Harry. He’s fighting something inside, Harry is almost sure of it, but
what he’s not sure of is what it is exactly or which way it’s pulling him,
724
but it’s brewing harshly behind his now stormy eyes. And frankly,
Harry feels utterly terrified by the silence of it all, far too much hanging
in the balance between them.
Louis’ hand is resting on the center of Harry’s chest, while Harry’s are
both still cradled to his teary face. And maybe it’s not exactly the right
time, but when is it ever? There’s never a right time for anything in
this life. Harry is praying that Louis says it, holding his breath that the
next words out of Louis’ mouth are the ones he’s longing to finally
hear.
tell me you love me too…
If all it really is is three simple words, why is Harry so desperate for

them? If all it is is eight simple letters strung together, how is it that
Harry feels as though he might die if he doesn’t hear them pouring out
from Louis’ lips, soft and gentle like a very first kiss. Harry needs to
hear it, like he needs air to breathe, knowing in his heart that even if
Louis were to refuse to be his, Harry would always belong only to him.
please
“H…” Louis whispers faintly, so faintly that Harry almost misses it.
And he honestly would have missed it, if he wasn’t staring so intently
at Louis’ mouth, watching the letter form around his lips. But Louis
doesn’t say anything further, he just starts to slowly shake his head.
And as much as Harry intrinsically understands Louis, as much as he

can sense what he’s feeling, Harry doesn’t know what he means or
what he’s saying with the gradual shaking of his head, but the
conflicted look behind his eyes once again terrifies Harry. Louis’ body
is pulling Harry closer, clinging to him, but yet his eyes are asking him
for space.
It doesn’t make sense, none of it makes any perceivable sense. Is Louis

saying no? No to what exactly? No to this? No to them? Is he just
scared? Confused, maybe? It’s hard to really know, but there are still
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soundless tears flowing heavily down Louis’ cheeks. Harry could ask,
he could open his mouth and ask what the look in Louis’ eyes means,
beg him to say something definite, but Harry would almost rather not
know, terrified of an answer he doesn’t think he could bear to hear.
And maybe he’s not meant to know, because in the next moment,
before either of them can say anything more, Louis’ pager goes off,
ringing and buzzing from where it’s clipped to Louis’ waistband.
“Louis.” Harry says his name gently, quietly, soft fingers still stroking
the tearstains away. Not only does he not want Louis to leave this roof
with all the unanswered questions floating between them, but more
importantly, Harry doesn’t want Louis to be alone somewhere in the
high emotional state that he’s in.
But it seems that’s exactly what Louis is dead set on doing, the sound
of his pager snapping him out of whatever tranced moment he was
having with Harry.
Every instinct Harry has inside is telling him to grab onto Louis and
refuse to let him leave. Pull Louis right back into his arms where he
belongs and hold him until they begin to work through all this. But
maybe Harry can’t save him this time, maybe there are some things
Louis needs to work through on his own. People always say, if you
love someone set them free. Set them free and if it’s meant to be, they’ll
come right back to you. Harry doesn’t know if that’s actually true or
just some bullshit people say to comfort themselves when things don’t
go as planned. But he wants the best for Louis, that’s all he could ever
want and if Louis needs space then Harry won’t deny him.
It’s frustrating, Harry would never lie and claim otherwise. But it’s
worth it, everything is worth it for Louis. He’s going to be patient, he
promised Louis that he would be, and he meant it. As long as it takes,
whatever it takes, as long as he is willing, Harry is determined to be
there for Louis, however he needs, every single step of the way.
||☤||
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Louis makes it from outside on the roof to the inside of the elevator
on a single held breath, only releasing it once the heavy metal doors
have clicked shut. And as the floors begin to ding one by one down
the many hospital levels to Radiology, Louis’ heart starts to plunge
further down inside his chest. He isn’t ready to walk into that imaging
room, he still isn’t ready to review Avery’s initial post-op scans. Worse,
better, the same—it doesn’t quite matter, the fact remains, Louis is
not ready.
He’s all over the place and despite how many deep breaths he forces
himself to take in, it still feels like the walls of this confined space are
slowly caving in on him. And it doesn’t take long before Louis is hitting
the red emergency stop button, bringing the lift to a complete halt.
Louis leans his weight against the wall, shutting his eyes as his forehead
presses against the cool metal lining the elevator walls. His hands hold
tight to the railing along the side, begging himself to just get a fucking
grip.
But he can’t.
Truthfully, if Louis had his way right now, he’d still be curled up
somewhere crying through his vast array of overwhelming fears until
he’d wrung himself utterly dry. It’s why he went up to the roof in the
first place, to ease his panicked terrors and calm all the insecurities
suddenly running rampant through his unhinged thoughts. Going up
there was meant to reassure him, soothe him enough to make it
through the day as it has before. Louis thought maybe the stark
sensation of the cool breeze whipping against his skin or the fresh air
filling his lungs would do something to recenter him, tether him back
to the escaping ground. But in so many terrifying ways he’s still free
falling, hopelessly suspended on a harrowing plane of limbo ever since
he stepped out of that operating room. All he wants to do is plant two
steady feet on solid ground again; take a step and know in confidence
that it’s not going to send him plummeting down even further than he
started.
But the roof couldn’t help him do that this time around, not the fresh
early morning air or the spectacular view or the calming skyline he’s
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come to appreciate so much. Louis is far too forgone for any of that.
No, nothing came close to grounding him, but the familiar arms of
one person.
And maybe Louis will never quite understand how one single
person—one man, can make everything suddenly feel so easy
and right in a world that’s always been so hard and impossibly wrong.
Harry.
God, Harry.
Louis can still smell the sweet, longed-for scent of him, content to be
surrounded by him, wishing to be comforted by him. How does he
always do that—how does Harry’s presence never fail to make him
feel so safe? From the way he held Louis, fiercely protective and
attentive to his every need, yet gentle and patient with his warm touch;
to the way he found him, picking Louis out like a needle in a haystack
as though it was nothing at all.
Louis burrows his nose down to the neckline of Harry’s soft sweater,
inhaling until he actually feels like he’s really breathing again. Harry is
the only breath of fresh air that matters, the only person who gets
through the dense fog that seems to always shadow Louis from
moment to moment.
And he’s also the one person Louis knows that he so desperately
wants, but doesn’t know if he should have—or if he’s meant to have.
But maybe…he’s come close enough for now.
Louis can’t explain it, he really can’t and he’s almost positive he would
sound insane if he tried because Harry is right for him in every way
Louis can begin to think of, in every way that there is—he is, he
really is. And it’s truly cruel how well his beleaguered mind can trap
and chain him in a prism of merciless contradictions, how much it has
the ability to exhaust him to the point where doubt becomes enough
728
and a drop of fear multiplies into an entire ocean and he actually begins
to believe that he shouldn’t have Harry.
Louis’ eyes start to water as he thinks about it, biting down hard on
his bottom lip as he tries to hold it all back, tries to stop himself from
going there before it’s too late to come back. He’s not going to start
full on crying again, he’s not—not right now.
don’t cry, don’t…
He’s barely holding on, barely holding it together, with one hand
covered over his breaking face, head thrown back against the elevator
wall. His pager buzzes again in his pocket with another reminder from
The Radiology Department about the scans and he realizes he never
even replied to say he’s on his way. Probably because he doesn’t want
to be on his way, he doesn’t want to do this yet. He doesn’t know what
the fuck he wants to do—nothing, he wants to do nothing and say
nothing and hear nothing and just…be nothing. Just until he can figure
himself out.
He uses the long sleeves of Harry’s jumper to swipe under his tearful
eyes, taking in whatever breaths he can before releasing the elevator’s
emergency stop. Louis tries as hard as he can to make his thoughts as
blank and empty as possible, choking down the panic, strangling out
the fear and repressing away his out of control emotions until he can
manage some sort of mask and appear passably ok.
you’re fine, everything is fine…
When Louis finally reaches the imaging room, he’s surprised to find
Liam, Zayn, and Niall already there waiting for him.
“Lou.” Liam rushes over and wraps Louis up in a tight hug right away.
And it doesn’t take long for Zayn to join in, followed by Niall until
they’re a ball of tangled limbs holding each other with Louis at the
center.
729
And it feels good, the pressure to his body, the genuine support of his
closest friends by his side, serving as a slight reprieve from the
onslaught of chaos that refuses to leave him.
“What are you all doing here?” Louis asks quietly, mumbled against
Liam’s shoulder.
“We wanted to make sure that you’re ok and we didn’t want you to be
alone when you saw the scans.” Liam replies.
“And we brought you food, because you haven’t eaten anything in

ages.” Niall says next.
“And Skittles.” Zayn adds with a small knowing smile. “Two different
ones just how you like them.”
Louis is rarely one without words, but he really doesn’t know what to
say. It’s sweet and incredibly thoughtful and he has never loved his
best friends more. There’s never been a time where they didn’t come
through for him right when he needed them, in fact most of the time
he doesn’t even have to ask.
“Thanks guys…really, thank you for everything.” Louis manages a

slight smile that just barely meets his tired eyes. He knows it’s not
much of a thank you, hardly the grand thanks they truly deserve; and
Louis swears he’s going to do something really nice for them after all
this is over, but they don’t seem to care about any of that, only caring
about him.
Zayn slips his arm around Louis’ waist. “You know we’re always here
for you.”
Louis nods quietly, leaning his weight against Zayn.
“I know it’s only been a few hours, but how are you holding up?” Liam
asks, pulling back as he intently inspects Louis. “Are you ok?”
730
i feel horrible, fucking horrible
“Um…yeah…I’m ok...” Louis tries, voice raspy and low as he shrugs

off his words.
Niall tilts his head at him, not at all masking his growing concern. “I
think you should go down to the lab and get checked out after this.”
“Yeah Lou, just to be safe.” Zayn agrees, rubbing Louis’ side.

“Radiation poisoning is nothing to play around with.”
“No, I’m ok—I’m fine, really.” Louis insists a bit more believably this
time around. “I’m just…you know—a bit tired, yeah.”
The three of them remain unconvinced, each of them assessing Louis

in their own way and Louis hates being so closely analyzed, like being
under a microscope.
“Honestly lads, I’m a doctor in a room full of more doctors. If there

was really something physically wrong with me, I think we would all
know by now.” Louis reminds. He has none of the usual symptoms
that accompany radiation poisoning. And he knows he’s lucky, if he
had messed around any longer with the radiation during surgery, he
would definitely be in dire need of treatment. But the treatment he’s
probably in most need of right now is a good therapy session; he’s had
multiple panic attacks in only a few hours’ time and there’s no telling
how many more are to come.
“Well, have you talked with Harry?”
And there it is. Louis nearly winces at the sound of his name, afraid of
the horribly emotional response hearing it is sure to bring out of him,
leaving cracks in the masked charade he’s trying so hard to uphold.
“I wish you could have seen his face when Niall told him that Avery
made it out of surgery, he was so relieved—he couldn’t even believe it
at first.” Liam continues without Louis needing to answer. “He nearly
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worried himself sick last night over you and her, he was a complete
mess all night long. And then when you weren’t there after surgery—
he was so concerned about you, he wouldn’t calm down until he knew
where you were and if you were ok. You must know this already, but
Harry cares so much for you, Louis he really does.”
i know he does, i care for him too…
“I…um…” Louis weakly starts to answer but ends up shaking his head
and directing his attention to the screens instead. “Are the scans up?”
He asks redundantly instead, already knowing they are ready otherwise
he wouldn’t have been paged here to review them in the first place.
But he’s not ready to talk about any of this yet. Not the surgery, not
how he feels, and especially not Harry.
“Louis.” Niall tries this time, taking a step closer to him, and his voice
is still drenched in clear worry, an echo of the same stress from the
O.R. ringing through his tone. He’s about to say more, Louis knows
he is, he can practically hear the ghosts of his growing concerns
wafting in the air between them.
But Zayn gives Niall a short look, subtly giving his head a brief shake
before stepping in to address Louis’ previous question. “Yeah, the
scans are up.”
They don’t press him any further, biting their tongues and turning their
attention to the panel of high-resolution screens displaying the SSMC
logo on them. Tentatively Louis logs into the main computer with his
ID, already feeling increasingly queasy as he selects Avery’s patient file.
Louis doesn’t even think he’s breathing at all as he waits for the images
to load, finding himself scared of each new moment and each new
breath.
It can’t be worse, the size and progression of the growths on her brain
can’t be any worse than they were before, not after all he did in surgery.
And on a rational level he knows that, but on the irrational level he’s
currently functioning at, Louis can’t be certain of anything at all.
732
And when the brain scans do eventually queue up on the surrounding
screens, Louis isn’t sure whether to study them intensely or look away.
The room is completely silent, four sets of lungs paused in hopeful
anticipation. But seeing the scans won’t change whatever the true
reality is, good or bad, improvement or unchanged. It is what it is. So,
Louis forces himself to lift his head, forces himself to focus his eyes
and study the images before him. But he doesn’t believe what he sees.
“It’s shrinking…” Zayn gasps first, sounding as stupefied as Louis

feels as he breaks the silence. “Oh my god…it’s already shrinking.”
And he’s right, the margins of the tumor are notably reduced. Even
taking into account the amount of cancerous tissue that Louis
surgically removed, the glioma is still visibly smaller than it was
projected to be, meaning that the virus is actually doing as
hypothesized and targeting the malignant cells. And the most
incredible part is that it’s only been a few hours, who knows how it’ll
look in a couple of days, let alone months, as her body continues to
recover and adjust to treatment.
Louis exhales for the first time in minutes, a heavy, audible rush of air
pushed out of his nose and mouth at once. New tears that he couldn’t
possible hold back, spill over onto his cheeks as he surrenders
whatever is left of himself to a rare feeling of relief. “It’s s-
shrinking…” He stutters on a feeble breath, hand held over his mouth
in disbelief.
“Yeah…you did it, Lou.” Liam smiles warmly, also sounding

emotional as he drapes a comforting arm around Louis’ shoulders.
“She’s…she’s g-going to be ok…” Louis starts to break down and cry;

even to his own ears it sounds like a scared question, the words
uncertain and still he’s somehow afraid to believe it could possibly be
true. He’s staring right at the truth on the screen before him, but...it
hardly feels real.
Niall pulls him into a full hug, holding Louis tightly in his arms. “She’s
going to be ok.”
733
With his head hooked over Niall’s shoulder, Louis’ tears fall harder as
he stares disbelievingly at the monitors, couldn’t tear his eyes away
from it if he tried. If Louis’ entire career as a neurosurgeon or further
still, his entire life only ever amounted to this, to this single moment,
to saving the life of this one beautiful child, then it would have all been
worth it.
At this point, it’s unlikely that Louis will ever be able to pull himself
back together, not when everything is causing him to break right down
again. He’s a complete mess of tears—tears of heartfelt relief spur
from his eyes mixed with the bitter tears of his perpetual torment,
saltwater streaming down his face as forceful as a flood.
“I…I couldn’t—I c-couldn’t lose her a-again...I c-can’t…” Louis

chokes out over heavier sobs. It could never be played down to just
saving one life or one patient, because Avery Elliot Styles isn’t only a
patient or an experimental case study that somehow was a miraculous
success, she’s the spark that causes Louis’ broken heart to beat and
without her…without her, Louis doesn’t know who he would be
anymore. “I can’t, I c-can’t, Niall…”
Niall hugs him even closer, rubbing his palms along his back in slow
circles. “I know Lou, I know. She’s ok. You aren’t losing her. It’s all
ok now.”
But then why doesn’t he feel ok? Louis still doesn’t feel anywhere near
the realm of ok. And he knows he should. After seeing her scans, he
should feel so much better, he should feel the weight of the world
being lifted off of his tired shoulders. He’s just been told that Avery is
not only stable, but already improving—with his own two eyes he’s
still staring right at the scans before him and yet…
That unsettled, scattered feeling is still rooted deep down inside him,
refusing to set him free. And he’s tired, Louis is so very tired of feeling
like this, constantly on edge as though the floor is set to drop from
under his feet at any moment yet again.
734
All three of his best friends are here with him, comforting him. Niall
is practically holding him together with how tightly he’s got his arms
surrounding Louis’ entire body and Zayn hasn’t stopped hovering over
him this whole time, while Liam is ready to do any single thing Louis
asks of him in a heartbeat.
They’re all so worried about him, that much is clear. But Louis doesn’t
know what to tell them, he doesn’t know what will make it better. He’s
at a loss for what he needs, a loss for what he wants, but he knows that
whatever it is, he’s not going to find it here.
Louis shakes his head, pulling back from the hug suddenly before he
can think too hard about it. “I um—I have to go.”
And they all respond as Louis knew they would, speaking out over
each other at the same time.
“What do mean you have to go?” Liam frowns. “Where are you
going?”
“Go where?” Zayn furrows his brow together in confusion.
Niall steps closer to him. “Louis, what are you talking about?”
“I j-just um—I need to get out of here.” Louis decides in a rush,

swiping at his eyes and heading for the door. Although he doesn’t get
more than half a step before running into the human blockade his
friends have made in front of him.
“Slow down and let’s talk about this, Louis.” Liam urges. “Something
is clearly still bothering you.”
“There’s…there’s nothing to talk about…” Louis mumbles with his

head bowed down, refusing to give any further eye contact because it’ll
probably get him to start crying again. His eyes are still burning, and
he hardly has any fight left in him.
735
“If you aren’t ready to talk, we understand.” Zayn promises gently.
“But tell us how we can help you.”
i don’t even know how to help myself
“You’ve already done s-so much.” Louis tries, still talking downward
in a distant voice. Whatever this is, whatever unquieted storm is
brewing up boldly inside him, twisting and tearing him apart from the
inside out, Louis needs to get through it himself, process through it
himself. Because it’s not like anyone can do it for him; right now it
feels like he’s being held underwater, screaming and crying, but no one
can reach him.
“Harry said that—”
Louis shakes his head in desperation, cutting Liam off before he can
finish saying anything Louis can’t bear to hear. “No, d-don’t talk about
H-Harry—please…”
He’s not doing this, he’s not talking about Harry or the fact that he
just left him on top of the fucking roof without so much as a goodbye.
He knows that Harry is waiting for an answer from him, an answer
Louis doesn’t have right now. It’s more complicated than simply
saying that he doesn’t know how he feels, because Louis does know
and maybe that is actually part of the problem.
Niall tries again to get through to him, reaching out him. “Louis—”
Louis hasn’t stopped shaking his head, eyes still burning from the tears
he’s already shed. “No—I can’t do this right now—I c-can’t be here
anymore...”
“But Avery will be looking for you when she wakes up.” Zayn reminds.
“You have to be here for her.”
736
It’s true, Louis knows it’s true and as much as he wants to see her and
be with her, he knows he shouldn’t, knows it could only ever make
things worse. “I can’t—just I h-have to go, ok.”
“Louis, you’re running away from this.” Niall states boldly, taking the
no bullshit, honest approach that Louis normally appreciates. The
thing is, Louis also isn’t normally a runner. He isn’t normally the type
to drop everything in an attempt to escape, it’s not him. They know it
and he knows it.
The key word being normally, and this is not nearly a normal situation.
But right now, he just needs a breather. He needs some space. He can
hardly stand his own thoughts and nearly everything around him
triggers him in some horrible way. Louis just needs to get away for a
bit. Think things through as best he can until maybe something will
start to make sense.
“No, I’m not…I’m—I just need space...” Louis tries to defend

himself, tries to help them understand the confusion he barely
understands himself. “To think and…and to process and…I d-don’t
know—but I can’t be here. I j-just can’t…”
“At least tell us where you’re going.” Liam asks, weary eyes searching
Louis’ face.
Where can he even go when everything in his path is a continual

reminder. Everything is too familiar, holding a memory, sparking
recollections. And that’s when Louis remembers it, weeks ago when
his only focus was on figuring out a way to treat Avery, he got an
invitation to give a lecture at a conference in Portland. Usually Louis
couldn’t give two shits about those pretentious conferences, seeing
them as pointless platforms for surgeons and doctors to bask in
prestige and gloat about achievements that were most likely stolen and
rebranded from someone else who came before them. It’s hardly ever
about the actual medicine. But they were all fun and games when he
was first starting out in his career, the perfect place for a bit of quick-
witted, alcohol induced banter and an easy hook-up. Not that that is
what he wants now, but Louis does want to get away from here.
737
“The Medical Advancements in Neurology Conference in Portland.”
Louis decides in that very moment. “That’s where I’m going.”
“Louis, they don’t need you at that stupid conference, and you hate
those things.” Zayn reminds, pulling a face. “And we were just talking
the other day and you said you weren’t going because of Avery’s
surgery.”
He gets invitations to conferences like this around the world every

month, but hardly ever attends any of them anymore, partly because
he’s uninterested, but mainly because he never actually has the time in
his schedule for it. But he certainly has the time now and he’s going.
It’s not too far away and it’s the perfect work-related excuse to get the
fuck away from Seattle. Maybe the change of scenery will start to clear
his head and bring him the sense of direction he urgently needs.
Louis shrugs a bit, not answering Zayn directly as he starts moving

towards the doorway once more. “Yeah…well…I changed my mind I
guess…”
And there’s absolutely nothing his friends can say or do that will
change it back.
||✚||
Harry doesn’t leave the rooftop of the hospital right away. He instead
stays to watch the sun completely rise, finding it so soothing. The many
warm colors swirled exquisitely across soft cotton candy clouds. It’s
majestic and surreal and it allows Harry a moment to pause and collect
his thoughts.
Eventually Harry makes his way down to Avery’s ICU room, finding
her still under the effects of sedation as he knew she would be. He sits
down at her side, content to just study her face as he holds her hand.
No matter how often he sees it, Harry will never get used to seeing his
daughter with all the tubes and wires hooked up to every possible
place. He can’t wait for the day when she hopefully doesn’t need a
738
single one of them anymore. The day where she can finally go back to
the normal life of a kid. And thanks to Louis that day actually has a
chance of coming sooner rather than later.
Harry’s thoughts continue to be with Louis, unable to stop worrying

about him for more than a few seconds at a time. In his mind he keeps
replaying their short time together on the roof, still coming up short
for what it all may mean. The man that he held in his arms on the roof
is going through so much, far too much for him to even speak on.
Harry can see it storming through Louis’ sapphire eyes and it pains
him so much, more than Harry thought imaginable. He wants to take
that pain away from him, he doesn’t want to see Louis hurt anymore,
but Harry doesn’t know what he can do. Louis needs time, Harry
understands that, of course he does, but the waiting and worrying in
between just might kill him.
But the sound of sputtering coughs, snaps Harry’s attention back to

the present instantly. He looks to Avery’s still body to find that she’s
making horribly strangled sounds that don’t at all sound natural,
growing louder and more congested. Harry doesn’t know what else he
can do but get help. He doesn’t think any more about it, up and
sprinting out to the nurses’ station in no time flat, already shouting to
get someone’s attention.
“I think she’s choking!” Harry yells urgently. “S-She’s making a…a

coughing sound and it doesn’t sound right…”
Dr. Wesley and several nurses drop what they are doing in an instant
and rush right into the patient room. Harry follows after them, but
gives them the space they need to work.
“No, she’s fighting intubation.” Dr. Wesley determines after quickly

assessing her. “She's breathing on her own, it’s a good thing.”
And sure enough, as soon as all the tubes are removed from her
airways, the strangulated sounds stop, and her vital stats return to level
and stabilize once again.
739
Harry deflates in every sense of the word, feeling his own breathing
return to normal as well. It’s hard not to raise hell and panic over every
last thing, especially when he’s been conditioned to expect the very
worst, and it’s probably going to take a while before he no longer
thinks that way. “Does that mean she’s going to wake up soon?”
“Any time now.” Dr. Wesley smiles reassuringly at him. “Let’s page
Dr. Tomlinson.” She instructs the nurses as they file out of the room.
Harry sits back down in the chair near her bed once again, taking her
small hand in his, thumbing over her palm. He knows all the signs up
to this point have been good, but still Harry can’t allow himself to get
too excited too soon, he can’t allow himself to relax.
she’s ok now, she’s ok
He lifts her hand to his lips, kissing it gently before moving her hand
to his cheek, holding it there and focusing on the warmth of it. There’s
reassurance in the warmth, comfort in the thrum of a healthy pulse
under her smooth skin. Harry allows his eyes to slowly fall closed,
lulled into a tranquil state as he ruminates on the assuring presence of
vivacity radiating from her very veins.
And when her small fingers begin curl around his cheek on their own
accord, Harry lets out an audibly shaky breath. Slowly, he lifts his head,
opening his eyes to meet the flickered blinking of a golden hazel gaze
peering back into his teary green one.
“I f-fought…” Avery whispers weakly, head tilted towards Harry even

though her eyes are barely open. “I fought…r-really hard for you, D-
Daddy…”
Harry can only look to her in utter awe, eyes shining as his heart lodges
itself in his throat. He doesn’t have the words and even if he had them,
there’s no way he could get them out properly. It’s one thing to be told
that she’s going to be ok, to hear that and try to believe it, but it’s
something else entirely to see it. To see her eyes begin to open on their
740
own, to hear whispers of her young voice, to feel the faint touch of
her small fingertips. And it begins to hit him in every possible way,
that she really survived the impossible. At the age of nine, his daughter
has already been through hell and back, and what’s even more
amazing, she did it all with a beautiful smile on her face.
Overcome with emotion and without words, Harry hugs his daughter
near, holding her close to his heart and his chest with his face buried
down against her as even more relieved tears spill down his cheeks. It’s
a moment he couldn’t guarantee would ever come twenty-four hours
ago, a moment that was so hard to foresee twenty-four days ago, but
also a moment Harry wouldn’t trade for the world.
“Don’t c-cry, Daddy...” Avery murmurs against him, quiet voice raspy
and slowed. “Please don’t cry…I’m still h-here…it’s ok. You don’t h-
have to cry anymore….”
Avery pulls back just to smile at him, a dreadfully tired but so very
beautiful dimpled smile. And Harry has never been so happy to see
that signature smile spread across her face. Even though her strength
is still low, she reaches up to gently rub her small fingers across his
damp cheeks, only to wipe his tears away. “No goodbyes.”
Harry rests his hand over hers, leaning in to softly press his lips to her
forehead as he always hoped he’d be able to again. And through a
hushed whisper, Harry finds a trace of his voice again.
“No goodbyes.”
||✚||
Avery doesn’t stay completely conscious for long, dozing in and out
over the next couple of hours. After the heavy strain of the surgery to
her weakened body, it’s understandable why she’s so exhausted.
The nurses give Harry permission to lay down on the hospital bed next
to her, holding her sleeping figure close to his chest as he’s done so
741
many countless times before. Harry finds himself drifting off too,
drained by the endless stress of his sleepless night in the waiting room.
He figures they’ll probably have awhile to sleep before Louis checks in
on Avery’s progress and vitals.
But to Harry’s surprise, it’s not Louis who comes by to do Avery’s

official post-op exam, but Niall once again.
“Is that little Miss Avery I see?” Niall gasps exaggeratedly with a wide
beaming smile on his face as he walks into the room, charting tablet in
hand.
Avery sleepily smiles back at him, offering a slight wave of her fingers.
“It’s…me...”
“I’m so happy to see you awake.” Niall enthuses genuinely as he walks

deeper into the hospital room. He does a quick survey of the monitors,
checking over her IV drip and making a few notes on his tablet. “So
how are you feeling, Avery? Do you feel any pain?”
“Um...I’m alright…I think…” Avery answers in raspy breaths as she

groggily rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand. She tries to sit up
a bit against Harry, but her movements are slow and sluggish.
“Nothing hurts... ‘m just tired...really, really tired…”
“But that’s normal, right?” Harry wonders in concern. “For her to be

so exhausted, I mean.”
“Yes, that’s totally normal. I’d be more worried if she wasn’t tired.”
Niall replies easily with a calm reassuring smile. “After a surgery as
long and taxing as that, we can expect her to be at a very low energy
state for the next couple of days as her body recuperates. And the pain
medication she’s currently on only adds to the drowsiness, but that’s
nothing to worry about. If all continues to go well, she’ll be back to
her sassy, giggly self in no time.”
742
Harry looks down at Avery and smiles, hugging her closer. He can
hardly believe that after so many ups and downs, the worst is finally
coming to a close and they can begin to put all this behind them.
Niall returns his attention down to Avery directly, bending down a

little to her eye level. “Alright kiddo, so I need to check out a few
things to make sure you’re healing properly, but I promise I won’t
bother you for too long so you can go right back to sleep with your
dad, ok?”
Avery nods her head. “Ok.”
“Good. Can you sit up a little bit more for me?” Niall asks, starting his
exam by checking under the bandages wrapped around her head,
making sure the incision sites and sutures are free of any early signs of
infection. He checks her respiration rate and breath signs with his
stethoscope, listening for any cardiopulmonary irregularities. He then
reaches to take both of her small hands in his. “Can you give my hands
a squeeze? Just as hard as you can.”
“Avery, you’re too strong, my goodness.” Niall teases, shaking out his
hands as though she’s done some actual damage with her tiny grip.
She laughs a little and Niall moves on to check the responsivity of her
legs next. “Can you give your toes a little wiggle for me? Does anything
feel tingly or numb?”
Avery shakes her head and when Niall begins to tickle the soles of her
feet, she giggles even more than before.
“Can you feel that Avery? I’m not sure if you can really feel it.” Niall
jokes, getting her to smile.
“I can!” Avery continues to giggle.
“Oh, well that’s such a relief.” Niall grins, pulling a slim white exam
light from his lab pocket. “Ok, now I need you to follow the light with
743
your eyes.” He instructs, turning the beam on. “That’s perfect, Avery.
Just like that.”
“Dr. Horan?” Avery questions quietly, eyes focusing back and forth as
Niall conducts the exam. “Where is Louis? Why isn’t he here too?”
Harry looks to him as well, having not seen Louis since he dashed off
to answer a page from the rooftop. It’s odd that he’s not here;
completely out of character for him, especially since he never misses a
thing when it comes to Avery.
“He’s…um…” Niall pauses, mewing over his words as he tucks the

pocket light back in his coat pocket. He shares a look with Harry and
it’s all Harry needs to know that something definitely isn’t right. “Well
Avery, there’s this conference…in Portland for big, important brain
doctors like Louis…and he had to attend and give a lecture last minute.
It’s um…important…”
“Oh…” Avery hangs her head in disappointment, seeming sad.
“But he’ll be back.” Niall pipes up cheerfully, picking up his tone. “He
really wanted to be here when you woke up. And he told me to tell you
that he is so sooo sorry that he isn’t here, and that he can’t wait to see
that great, big, beautiful smile of yours when he gets back.”
Avery nods her bowed head slowly, but without any real enthusiasm.
“He’ll be back, Munch.” Harrys whispers reassuringly against her

temple, not wanting her to get too upset, especially when all she needs
to focus on is resting up and giving her body a chance to heal. “Don’t
worry, ok?”
“But on the brightside, I’m sure he’ll be really happy to know that you
are making an incredible recovery so far.” Niall smiles, giving her hand
a gentle squeeze. “You aren’t showing any major deficits and your
latest scans continue to show improvement.”
744
“Avery, that’s amazing, honey.” Harry hugs her close once again,
snuggling his head down by her cheek. It would usually get her to at
least smile, but she’s disappointed and she’s never been one to be able
to hide her emotions very well. It’s as clear as day that she’s sad to be
without Louis. He has been here with her every single step of the way,
encouraging her and giving her hope and for him to not be here only
further proves how hard this really was for him.
“So Avery you’ll let me know if anything feels funny, ok? And you can
always ask for me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“Ok.” Avery answers quietly.
“Alright Avery, I want you to keep resting, ok?” Niall advises her. “I’ll
be back to hang out and check on you later on and Dr. Wesley will be
monitoring all your vitals.”
Niall offers a farewell wave before exiting the hospital room, but there
are some things Harry wants to ask him without further involving
Avery, she’s upset enough as it is.
“I’ll be right back, Aviebug.” Harry tells his daughter, pecking her
cheek before sliding off the bed and leaving the room to catch Niall
before he gets too far away.
“Niall.” Harry calls, voice carrying down the hall.
Niall pauses and looks over his shoulder, turning around completely
when he sees it’s Harry calling him, seeming to be expecting him.
“Hey, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to upset Avery, I didn’t know what to
tell her…”
Harry shakes his head with understanding. “There wasn’t anything you
could have possibly done about that…I knew she was going to ask for
him.”
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“Poor little thing. She’s so attached to him, I felt like I was breaking
her heart.”
Harry nods sadly, knowing just how special the beautiful bond
between Avery and Louis is, transcending every bound. “Is he really at
a conference?”
“I don’t even know….” Niall sighs heavily as a worried cloud of pure

exhaustion waves right over his features. “That’s what he said but…”
“But what?”
Niall runs his fingers through his hair as he exhales at a loss. “You
were right…he’s not ok.”
Even though it’s not new information, it causes Harry’s stomach to

churn with uneasiness. “What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything, that’s the problem. He avoided everything

and then he started talking about how he needs to think and get
away…but he was so frazzled—he’s so overwhelmed.” Niall worries,
shaking his head. “You can see it on his face, but he won’t talk about
it—about any of it. I’ve never seen him like this before, Harry. I don’t
know where he’s going, but I know I should have tried harder to stop
him from leaving.”
“It’s not your fault.” Harry sighs, feeling so incredibly heavy and
weighted down.
Niall seems to take note, placing a reassuring hand on Harry’s

shoulder. “It’s not yours either, Harry. I know it probably feels that
way, but please don’t blame yourself. Louis wouldn’t want that.”
Harry looks down at the ground, not meeting Niall’s eyes. “I

know…but…”
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“You’re hurting knowing that he’s hurting, and you feel like there’s
nothing you can do to help him, I know. But it’s still not your fault,
ok?” Niall repeats, bolder this time in hopes that Harry will accept it.
“It’s not.”
Niall’s pager begins to sound from his lab coat, but he doesn’t even
check it, seeming to already know what it’s about. “I’ve got a surgery
to prep for, but I’ll come find you later, alright? Hang in there, Harry.”
He gives Harry a reassuring hug before he leaves, rubbing his back.
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
Harry stays back in the hallway for a little while longer, attempting to
settle his racing mind down to a manageable state before going back
to be with his daughter. Lord knows that girl can read his every
emotion like the pages of an open book, and he’d really rather not
bring her any more stress right now.
The only thing Harry can think to do is call Louis. Just once, just so
that he knows Harry’s thoughts are always with him. Louis could
literally be going anywhere and while it’s unsettling to be so left in the
dark, Harry understands that Louis needs space to think and process
his emotions, that’s only fair. Louis has been on a tireless roller-coaster
with no end for months, facing things he hasn’t dealt with in years, and
Harry can only imagine the stress Louis must be under. And however
Louis needs to be supported, whether near or far, that’s exactly what
Harry is committed to do.
The phone rings for a while, but ends up going to voicemail, not that
Harry is at all surprised by that.
“Louis…hi…it’s…it’s me.” Harry starts slowly, unsure of himself. He

takes in a deep breath, leaning his head against the wall of the hallway
as he closes his eyes, trying to think of what to say, of what Louis might
need to hear right now, wherever he may be. “Lou, I can’t imagine
what’s going through your head right now, but I…”
i need to hear your voice
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Harry exhales achingly, holding the phone closer to his ear as though
Louis is actually connected to it. “I’m worried about you…” He admits
quietly, hating how fucking useless he feels, how far away. All he wants
is to be there for Louis, care for him and make him feel safe again, but
how can he from over the phone? What could Harry possibly say that
could make any sort of difference. “I’m worried but I…I know that
you need time to process everything in your own way—I get that…I
really do and I want you to have that time but I…”
i need to know if you’re ok
“I just want you to know that you’re not alone.” Harry reminds,
meaning it wholeheartedly and knowing it’s what Louis needs to hear.
“It might feel that way—it’s always been that way for you since you
were just a kid but…you are never alone…I’m here for you—I’ll
always be here for you when you need me, Louis. I know it’s hard right
now to focus your thoughts and you probably feel so lost and displaced
within yourself and the last thing I want to do is overwhelm
you…but…I want you to remember that you are so much stronger
than you think you are, Louis. You’re strong and you’re brave and no
matter what you face, that will never change.”
i believe in you
“Please be safe, Lou…” Harry whispers into the receiver, clutching the
phone far too tightly, wishing Louis was right there waiting on the
other end of the line. But no matter how he wishes, nothing but
haunting silence echoes back to him.
come back to me
“I’ll be here when you’re ready. Always.” Harry promises from every
part of his heart, eyes remaining closed. He doesn’t want to hang up,
doesn’t want to cut the connection to him. “…Bye…”
i love you…
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||☤||
By the time Louis gets to his house, he doesn’t know what he wants
to do anymore. He only planned to stop so that he could change his
clothes, pack a bag and fill his dog’s bowl up with more than enough
food for the next few days.
He was determined to leave, mind completely made up, seeing his

escape as the only way to chase after his dwindling sense of clarity. But
on the rather short drive from SSMC to his home, Louis received a
text from Niall telling him that Avery is awake and asking for him and
Louis swears to god that he almost turns the car around right then to
rush back to the hospital to be with her.
But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not until he figures some things out. And
it’s so horribly confusing because he doesn’t even know what things
he needs figured out, all he knows is that his thoughts have been
perpetually suspended in a freefall and he needs it to stop before he
loses his mind completely. And the only way he sees to do that is to
leave, to run where no one else will follow so that he can begin to find
a calm from all the wreckage.
Benedict meets him right at the doorway, as eager and excited as

ever—maybe even more so because Louis has been at the hospital for
so long. Louis can admit that seeing his goofy dog unable to stop
bouncing up and down while wagging his tail does put a small smile
on his face.
Louis kneels down to greet him properly, both hands cupped around
his fluffy neck. “Hey Benny Boy. What have you been up to without
me, huh?”
Benedict’s fur smells just like fresh cut grass, probably because he
insists on running through the back doggie-door to the backyard to
roll around in the grass for hours on end. He does it every day
religiously and Louis will most likely never understand why, but if it
makes him happy, that’s all that really matters.
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Louis takes time to scratch behind Benedict’s ears and rub his furry
tummy just as he likes, giving him some much needed love and
attention. Then he walks him over to the kitchen and gives him far too
many treats than are necessary. But he’s such a good boy and Louis
loves to spoil his oversized puppy.
After finishing his treats, Benedict begins following Louis around the
house as Louis goes about throwing different things into his compact
sized suitcase. Benny despises any and all forms of luggage and Louis
has gone through several sets all because his dog took it upon himself
as his own personal mission to chew and destroy them. In his precious
canine brain, a suitcase equals him being left behind and he can’t stand
for it.
Benedict barks at Louis a few times disapprovingly as Louis throws a

toiletry bag into the suitcase.
“Benny, what happened to being my good boy?” Louis questions his

dog, stooping down a little to talk to him face to face. “I gave you, like,
six treats only for you to bark at me like that? Don’t be rude, I raised
you better, B.”
Benedict pouts, but sits down quietly at Louis’ feet, watching him
intently.
“Good lad.” Louis ruffles the fluffed fur on top of his head, before
getting back to his suitcase.
Louis packs a full suit and a matching tie on the off chance that he
actually does go to the conference and speak. He’s not one hundred
percent set on that anymore, at least on the speaking part of it. After
all, he doesn’t even have any kind of formal presentation prepared or
even a general topic, but Louis doesn’t give a fuck about any of that
right now because his only focus is getting as far away from here as
possible.
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Benedict continues trailing Louis wherever he goes, from his closet to
the master bathroom to the kitchen to the hall closet, back up the stairs
to his bedroom. At some point on the tour around the house, Benedict
picks up his leash in his mouth, offering it to Louis as though he forgot
to pack it himself.
“That for me?” Louis wonders, pausing to look down at his dog.
Benedict nudges Louis’ hand with his wet nose until Louis is nearly
forced to take the leash from his mouth.
“We aren’t going for a run right now, Bud.” Louis sets the leash down
and gives Benny’s head another quick pet before returning to his
closet. Louis quickly changes into comfy joggers and a fresh oversized
hoodie, forcing himself to finally take Harry’s off, even though he
doesn’t want to. The one he puts on doesn’t feel as warm and soft as
Harry’s, but he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on it, instead moving on
to pull a baseball cap down over his fringe. When he’s done changing
clothes, he finds Benedict with the leash back in his mouth again,
looking to Louis’ expectantly.
“Benny, I can’t. I have to go.” Louis tries to explain, sitting down on

the edge of his bed to zip up his suitcase.
Benedicts lets out a little whimper, sounding so pitiful. He makes it

even worse when he puts his head down on Louis’ lap and gives him
those sad puppy eyes.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Louis pleads, already feeling guilty.
“I’m not leaving you forever. It’s just like if I was going to work. I’ll
be back in a day or two.”
Benedict doesn’t seem to like that at all, and he starts whining

miserably, growing louder by the second. And Louis hates the sound
of it, reminding him of the night Harry left and Benedict cried for him
all night long no matter what Louis did.
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“Ok, ok Benny, calm down, boy. You wanna come with me?” Louis
wonders, which only makes Benedict lose his shit with excitement,
running in circles and jumping up and down to lick Louis’ face. Dogs
are funny that way, direly depressed one moment and ecstatic the next.
Honestly, Louis wishes he could have that kind of quick turnaround
with his own emotions.
“Alright then, come on, you big baby.” Louis clicks the leash to his
harness, grabbing his suitcase on the way out of his bedroom. He
collects a few more necessary items for Benny before making his way
out of the house with his pup happily in tow.
Maybe Louis shouldn’t be completely alone on this trip anyway, and

Benedict’s weird and amusing self is one of his favorite forms of
company. Although, he has no earthly idea what he’s going to do with
his dog if he does indeed attend the conference, but just like everything
else, he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it.
He opens the door to the backseat of his Rover for Benedict to hop
in, but by the time Louis settles into the driver’s seat, Benedict has
climbed over the center console to sit in the passenger seat right next
to him, wagging tail and all.
“Proud of yourself, are you?” Louis grins a bit, rolling his eyes fondly
at his silly dog. He reaches over to pet the soft fur behind his ears once
more. “Well, Benedict, my old friend, it’s just you and me.”
Out of habit, Louis checks his phone before starting the car and finds
a missed call and voicemail from Harry. He hesitates to click on it;
after all the last time he had a voicemail from Harry, he couldn’t get it
out of his head for months. But that was then, and this is now.
Whatever the fuck that means anyway. Frankly, Louis is just as fucked
up now as he was back then, if not more so.
Louis push-starts the car, selecting the route to Portland on his

navigation system and deciding to get on the road before listening to
whatever is on that message. But curiosity gets the best of him, as it
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usually does, and after only a few miles of driving, Louis hits play on
the recording.
Benedict’s ears perk up at the sound of Harry’s voice filling the space
of the car, seeming to recognize it right away. He whines at first, in a
longing sort of way, but then Harry’s voice seems to slowly pacify him.
It’s something Louis can really identify with because as he listens to

Harry’s words, listens to the eased drawl of his deep voice, Louis can’t
help but want to play the voicemail on a loop, cherishing how calm he
feels as the sound washes over him. There’s so much care laced into
his tone, his words are thoughtful, earnestly placed in the sweetest of
ways and soon Louis becomes certain that nothing could ever save him
like the welcomed sound of Harry’s voice, seeming to always cut out
all of the static noise and confusion buzzing around inside his head.
It’s not just how Harry said it, but what he said that made Louis want
to wrap himself up in it like a warm blanket. And he knows that he
could call Harry back right now and drown himself in all the subtle
comfort his voice naturally carries.
But he’s not going to do that, he can’t do that, and the stupidest part is
that he doesn’t even know how to justify why. Maybe he’s punishing
himself. Maybe he’s afraid—maybe it goes even deeper than simply
being afraid of what comes next. Louis still doesn’t have an answer to
spare himself, but he’s going to drive until maybe he does.
Driving has always given Louis an odd comfort, a way to

constructively channel his drifting thoughts. There’s just something
about hitting the open road, unrushed, unhurried, letting the cool
breeze flow through his rolled down windows. Solutions are born on
the road, problems are solved, crises averted. But as Louis drives with
the sun setting on the horizon, his thoughts are only intensified
without solution.
Louis is waging war on his own sanity, fighting with himself one
minute then hiding from himself in the next and it is a total mind fuck.
He keeps going back and forth against logic, forth and back against his
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emotions, replaying every last thing in his head on a loop until he’s
somehow even more confused.
what am i doing…
He’s driving a bit restless, concentration zoning in and out as his

scattered thoughts cloud his judgment. Honestly, he probably
shouldn’t even be driving at all with the little sleep he’s running on.
His brow starts to prickle with sweat and there’s a pulsing behind his
temple growing stronger with each jumbled thought and every loud
minute. His heart is steadily picking up its rhythm, echoing in his ears
as brassy as a drum.
what do i want to do…
All the things that have happened—the fleeting highs and never-
ending lows of the past decade crash through the forefront of Louis’
mind unremittingly in no tangible order. Each static memory like a
pristine glass mosaic, stained with splendid color and irreplaceable
beauty until suddenly splintering into dull broken shards shattered on
the cold, hard ground. Shrill and sharp everything clashes together,
whether good or bad it clatters and bangs, pounding louder and louder
in his head. And he just wants the answer to jump out at him, scare
him, make him scream. At least that way he’d know in certainty what
he should do.
It’s deafening how intense each of his memories are, as earsplittingly

sharp as the day they were created. He can’t forget, always a linger or
a trace to remind him of what was, what could have been, what never
came. Louis can still hear conversations of times long passed, still
remember feelings tied to recollections that refuse to fade.
Fuck, he loved Harry, he really loved him and he put so much of

himself into it once, he put everything he had—everything he didn’t
have, into loving him as best he could and it didn’t even matter in the
end because Harry still left. Everyone leaves. Not always by choice, but
they do. Things happen, death happens. It can’t always be stopped, it’s
not always under Louis’ control whether someone stays or leaves.
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And Louis can honestly say that in his heart of hearts he has forgiven
Harry for all of it, for leaving, for breaking his heart, for everything.
Yes, Louis can say in confidence that he holds nothing against Harry
anymore, but in every sense, he is still terrified of life repeating itself
in the cruelest of ways.
Life happens, things get hard, people get sick, loved ones die and
leave—Louis has seen it. Lived it. Felt the long-term effects of it
repeatedly flooding his life. What’s to say that any of those things
won’t happen again, what’s to say things won’t get hard time and time
again? Because things always get hard, it’s practically a guarantee of life,
it’d be foolish to think otherwise. And when things do inevitably fall
to shit, what’s to say that the same fucking thing won’t happen, and
he’ll be left all alone once again? Louis wouldn’t survive that. His
career wouldn’t, his life wouldn’t, he wouldn’t.
He already isn’t.
Still Louis is continually overwhelmed by all that he continues to feel

for Harry, needing his love at every possible turn. He feels it when his
heart beats, each and every single time his heart beats in his trembling
chest, swift and strident. He feels it coursing through his juddering
veins like fire—burning, singeing its way through his bloodstream
while he’s left fanning the flames.
But is it enough?
Is it enough just to love him so intensely, to care for him more than
life itself, to need him as much and as desperately as Louis does? Can a
love like theirs, as long-suffering and passionate and beautiful as it has
grown to be, mend the scars of the past that refuse to heal and begin
to unravel all the years of trauma they’ve both learned to live with?
Louis grips the steering wheel even tighter, pressing his foot down
heavier on the gas and feeling the engine rev up under his fingertips.
And it snaps him out of it for a second, drawing his focus back to the
open road before him.
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“Ugh, what kind of short cut is this, Siri?” Louis grumbles uselessly to
his phone as he gradually navigates his car along a very narrow, dim-
lit road. Thirty minutes back, he’d absentmindedly opted to accept
Siri’s seemingly helpful suggestion of an alternate route to save time,
but it turns out the suggestion is anything but helpful. The alternate
route has taken him off of the main highway in favor of some random
roundabout country road twisting through the woods. There’s not
another car in sight, just miles of winding roads lined by thick wooded
trees and no street lighting to guide him along the dark path. Even
with his high beams on, it’s nearly impossible to discern what is
supposed to be the road.
And even better, it’s raining.
“There has to be a different way to get there. This is fucking

ridiculous.” Louis huffs irritably as he reaches towards the navigation
screen mounted on his dashboard, connected wirelessly to his phone.
And Louis only becomes more irritated when Siri’s voice comes over
the sound system saying, “Wireless connection lost.”
“Oh, well that’s just perfect, isn’t it?” Louis sighs heavily to himself as
he drives further into darkness. Maybe coming out here was a mistake,
maybe he should just turn around and attempt to head back to Seattle.
After all, it’s not like Louis has any idea what he’s even doing anyway
and he sure as hell hasn’t made any revelations, if anything he’s only
made things worse for himself.
He fiddles around with the touchscreen, slightly diverting his attention

from the twisting path before him in order to try the navigation system
one last time.
But as he clicks around on the screen, Benny begins barking urgently,

which isn’t something that’s usual for him. Louis adjusts his gaze
marginally, about to address the dog when something on the road
catches his attention out of the far corner of his eye.
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“Oh fuck!” Louis swerves his Range Rover out of the way just in time
to avoid colliding with an already wrecked car stranded in the middle
of the road. It’s all a blur as the wheels spin and screech loudly, tire
rubber burning against the slippery asphalt, the weight of the vehicle
nearly giving way from the abruptness of the sharp turn. But somehow
the car remains upright and comes to a jolted stop along the far edge
of the road.
Louis sits in shocked stillness, gripping the steering wheel so tightly

that both of his hands are lacking any color, pale as a ghost. His
breathing is ragged, chest uncontrollably heaving in and out, eyes wide
as the rush of an adrenaline spike pumps through his body over the
realized concept that he just narrowly escaped a car accident.
“Oh my god…” Louis breathes out after a few dazed moments of

quiet. He turns towards Benny, still sat in the passenger seat. “You ok,
Ben?”
His poor dog is clearly stressed, tongue hanging out of his mouth as
he pants. But he seems to give Louis a look that throws the same
question right back at him, nudging his head towards Louis in concern.
“I’m ok…” Louis whispers both as a reminder to himself and to

Benny.
But it’s only after Louis frantically pats himself down that he truly
comes to realize that he is actually ok. Although his skyrocketing heart
rate would claim otherwise. He reaches over to stroke the top of
Benedict’s head down to his back to try and reassure him back to calm,
but petting his dog seems to not only calm Benny down but also
himself. Louis can’t believe that it all happened so fast—actually, he’s
confused as to what even happened or why there is a car in the middle
of the street in the first place.
“Stay, ok?” Louis commands his dog, who plants himself down on the
passenger seat. “Good boy.”
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Once his heart rate his nearly returned to the realm of somewhat
normal, Louis flicks on his hazard lights and slips his hood over his
hat before hopping out of his car to investigate the other completely
totaled vehicle in the middle of the road. From the looks of things, it
seems as though something had caused the driver to lose control of
the car and swerve so suddenly that it flipped over onto its side.
Almost like what had just happened to him moments ago. Except
there is no indication of what initially caused the accident to occur.
As Louis inches closer, he hears the muffled sound of pained groaning

coming from the general vicinity of the wreckage. He quickens his
pace, moving with caution towards the massively crushed SUV.
“Hello…?” Louis cautiously calls out over the rain, following the
sound of the groans. There’s broken glass scattered along the concrete,
debris everywhere along with fragments of metal. “Is anyone there?
Can anyone hear me?”
There’s a ruffle of varied noises followed by a distant, yet quiet voice

echoing through the shower of water. The sound is heavily muffled
and low, but Louis knows that he hears the distinct calling of help.
That’s all it takes for Louis to push aside everything going through his
mind and immediately rush over to the far side of the wreck where the
driver’s side would be. As the car is lain out on its side, Louis uses the
tire to propel himself up and on top of the SUV. It’s slippery and
unsteady from the falling rain, but slowly Louis crawls along the body
of the car towards the front window, thankful for the trainers he
decided to wear. The driver door isn’t completely smashed in and
when Louis pulls on the handle it still opens with a creak, revealing a
moderately conscious woman trapped on her side in the driver’s seat.
She looks absolutely terrified, most likely still in shock from the
accident, but she’s conscious and breathing. He quickly assesses what
he can see of her injuries. She’s got lacerations all over her arms of
varying severity, and a gash on her temple leaving blood trickling down
the side of her face and more importantly, she’s pregnant—
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very, very pregnant. At least thirty-five or so weeks, Louis would say if
he had to guess.
When she first sees him, she starts to cry hysterically, the shock
morphing right into panic with glimpses of overwhelmed relief at the
sight of another person. She couldn’t have been out here for too long,
but it’s still traumatic to be trapped in a damaged car, no matter the
length of time.
“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s alright.” Louis tries, speaking calmly but loud
enough to be heard over her panicked sobs and the falling rain. “I’m
here to help you. What’s your name?”
It takes her a couple of moments to calm herself down enough to

speak. “F-Frankie…” She stutters with wide, panicked eyes. The
distinct forest green of her irises startles Louis with how scarily familiar
they seem, as though little reminders never fail to follow him no matter
where he goes or how hard he tries to focus on something else.
“Frankie.” Louis repeats gently, holding her gaze as though

mesmerized by it. “Hi Frankie, I’m Louis.”
Frankie’s emerald eyes are locked onto him, seeming to focus all her
attention on him instead of the current situation around her in order
to remain calm. “L-Louis…”
“Yeah, that’s me.” Louis nods gently, taking her closest hand in his to
continue to soothe her. He takes note of her pulse, feeling it start to
gradually settle as he talks to her. “Frankie, can you tell me what
happened?”
And simply asking her that seems to set her off again, spurring fresh
tears from her eyes as she blubbers unintelligibly. It’s understandable
how emotional she is, she’s just been in an accident, she’s scared and
also pregnant. Louis wants to help, but he doesn’t want to risk moving
her before he has somewhat of an idea what kind of injuries she
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sustained. And while he isn’t a trauma surgeon, Louis handles traumas
like these on nearly a daily basis while covering the emergency room.
“Frankie, hey listen to me, ok? I’m a doctor and I’m going to help you.
It’s going to be ok.” Louis keeps his voice calm and his tone gentle but
reassuring just as he would if they were in a hospital. “But I really need
you to answer a couple questions for me…Can you do that? Please,
Frankie, it’s very important that you do.”
Frankie continues to cry hysterically, but she manages to sort of nod

her head and Louis can tell that she is really trying to calm herself
down, but the shock and dwindling adrenaline won’t let her. So, Louis
holds her one hand with both of his own, trying to reassure her as best
he can from the uncomfortable position they’re in.
“Frankie, are you all by yourself, love? Is anyone else in the car?” Louis
asks next, maintaining eye contact with her. He didn’t see any signs of
another passenger, but he needs to have a definitive answer of how
many variables are at play so that he can determine what his next move
should be.
She gradually shakes her head a few times. “N-no it’s…it’s just m-
me…”
“Ok.” Louis nods, still holding her closest hand tightly. “And can you
tell me how far along you are?”
Frankie begins to sob even harder than before, so much so that Louis
has to really focus to understand all that she’s saying. “I’m…I-I’m
thirty-six w-weeks a-and I—I don’t know…I was having a…a w-weird
p-pain earlier and something felt w-wrong with the b-baby and a-and
I’m a-all alone at h-home…so I was going to the h-hospital—I thought
I could d-drive bu—but the rain m-made it so h-hard…and the p-pain
and I j-just I—” Her tears overcome her as she completely breaks
down, and Louis hardly knows a thing about her, but his heart
immediately goes out to her. “I—I can’t l-lose this baby—I c-
can’t…it’s all I—all I h-have left of him…”
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“Left of who?”
“David, my…my h-husband—he…he d-died a few months a-ago and

I’m...I’m just…I’m all alone and I c-can’t…” Frankie hyperventilates,
trembling terribly. It’s clearly a pain she’s still finding the strength to
process, the gaping wound of losing her spouse still fresh on her
broken heart, only heightened by the presence of pregnancy
hormones.
Louis wishes he could wrap her up into a hug, but all he can do is hold
her hand. He feels the losses of others on a personal level, feels it in a
special place in his heart and the last thing Louis is going to allow is
for Frankie to feel the loss of another person. Not if he has anything
to say about it. “Ok, ok, Frankie it’s alright, everything is going to be
fine. I need you to stay calm, ok? Deep breaths for me, yeah.” Louis
tries, giving her fingers a squeeze. “In through your nose and out
through your mouth. Just breathe with me, in and out, ok? In and out,
one breath at a time.”
She breathes deeply along with him just as he instructed, wide eyes
watching him closely as she holds onto his hand. And after a few
rounds, it starts to marginally calm her down.
“Good Frankie, that’s so good.” Louis praises while further assessing

her injuries. The deep gash to her head looks the most pressing; a
laceration that prominent could also be a concussion. He needs to
figure out a way to move her without further harming her. “Frankie,
do you feel any sharp pain anywhere?
“N-No…it’s not sharp really, b-but my head hurts…”
“Hurts like how? Describe it for me as best you can.”
She furrows her brow together in thought. “Um…it’s l-like a strong

pressure…it’s pulsing kind of?”
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“Ok.” Louis nods, thinking to himself and further suspecting her of
suffering a concussion, if not a cerebral contusion. All he can hope for
is that the injury doesn’t drastically diminish her level of consciousness
and she can stay lucid until they can get to a hospital. “Can you move
your arms and legs? Are there any tingling sensations?”
Frankie shakes her head and from the looks of things it appears that
she still has mobility and range of motion intact, which are all positive
signs. But Louis knows all too well that when it comes to
neurotraumas, the brain can be completely unpredictable and things
can change in an instant, so it’s best to always be cautious.
He already knows that there’s no service out here and the street, if it
can even be called a street, is so dark that it’s not safe for them to stay
here in the middle of the road. They would be practically asking for
trouble. Louis almost hit her turning the dim-lit corner, and with the
rain and limited visibility, it’s only a matter of time before someone
else does the same. They’re best bet is to try to get to a civilized area
to call for help or better yet, a hospital.
“Ok Frankie, we have to get you out of here, it’s not safe. I’m going
to help lift you out of the car.” Louis double checks that she’s free
from any buckles or protruding pieces of the car, wanting the
transition to be as smooth as possible. “I want you to twist as much as
you can towards me.”
Frankie nods, doing her best to turn her body towards Louis in the
cramped space.
The fall of rain has slowed down, but the outside of the car is still
incredibly slippery. There’s not much to use as leverage with the SUV
turned over on its side, but Louis wedges his legs against the open
doorway, ensuring that he doesn’t slip off of the edge on accident.
With the position she’s in, as well as her pregnant condition, there’s
not too much she can do on her own to climb out and Louis knows
he’s going to have to do the majority of the lifting in order to help her.
He leans down and hooks his arms under hers, using all he can of his
body strength to carefully hoist her free from the inside of the car.
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As soon as she’s completely out, Frankie falls back against Louis,
catching their breath along the side of the toppled car.
“Are you ok? Still with me?” Louis asks in concern, looking her over
again to make sure that she doesn’t have any other major injuries that
he may have missed before. He’s worried for the baby, there’s no way
for him to accurately check the fetal heartbeat, but he’s almost certain
that the baby is most likely in distress.
“I think so...” Frankie exhales, holding her hands to her protruding

belly protectively. “Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t thank me yet, we’re still on top of this car.” Louis reminds,
but offers a reassuring grin.
Louis crawls along the edge of the vehicle, strategizing the best way to
do this. It’s not that high up from the ground and if Frankie wasn’t
pregnant it would be easy for them both to simply jumped down. But
since she is pregnant, and her physical abilities are limited, Louis
decides to hop down first and then help ease her safely to the ground.
The entire time Louis is internally sending up prayer after prayer,

hoping that she doesn’t accidentally lose her footing and slip and fall
without him being able to catch her in time. The last thing they need
right now is more injuries. But they take it one step at a time, with
Louis never once letting her go and before long Frankie is down on
the ground, safe and sound.
The second she’s got both feet to the rain-slicked road, Frankie throws
her arms around Louis and hugs him tight. She’s trembling against
him, still completely shaken up by the experience, so Louis wraps
himself around her as securely as he can, reminding her that’s she’s ok.
“Come on, we should get away from your car. It’s not safe here.” Louis
suggests after a few minutes, taking Frankie’s hand in his to begin
leading her across the road to where his car is parked a little ways off.
And once Louis starts to think that maybe the worst is over, Frankie’s
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water breaks, right there in the middle of the street, the stress of this
situation putting her into labor.
“Oh my god—no! No!” Frankie immediately starts to freak out,

frantically shaking her head. The newfound calm she just had a
moment ago, gone in an instant. “No! I can’t have this baby right now,
I can’t!”
“Hey, hey Frankie, look at me.” Louis tries, both hands coming up to
her face to focus her attention. In all honesty, he wants to freak the
fuck out too, he has no business being the voice of reason when he’s
been an absolute mess of ceaseless panic for the past thirty-six hours.
It’s been crisis after crisis and absolutely nothing seems to be going as
planned and he has every fucking right to freak all the way out. But
one of them needs to remain calm and considering that he’s not the
one going into labor, Louis knows it has to be him. “Deep breaths,
remember? It’s ok—”
“It’s not ok! It’s so not ok!” Frankie panics, stressed tears streaming
down her cheeks. “I’m going into labor in the middle of the fucking
woods! How could that ever be ok!?”
Louis understands how terrified she must be; a situation like this isn’t
ideal for anyone. And he is so tempted to give in and start screaming
and crying right along with her until something about this situation
starts to change. They only met moments ago and yet Louis feels
incredibly responsible for her and her well-being. There might not be
anything he can do about his own array of problems right now, but
he’s determined to help Frankie through hers. “Do you trust me?”
“I don’t even know you!” She cries, having an entire break down.
“Yeah, well that’s fair I suppose, but you do realize that your options
are a bit slim since we are in the middle of the fucking woods.”
And there must be something about his sarcastic humor that gets to
her because it somehow gets Frankie to crack a small smile through
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her tears, the beginnings of a dimple forming in her cheek. “You’re a
smartass, aren’t you?”
“When I want to be.” Louis grins slightly. “But I’m also a doctor and
I promise that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re
going to be ok, Frankie. Trust me.”
Frankie begins to nod her head while breathing deeply, staring back at
him for a long moment. It’s a similar look she had when they first met
moments ago. Louis thought she was just in shock from the accident,
but maybe it’s something more.
“Frankie, what is it?” Louis asks, already thinking it could have

something to do with her concussion.
She’s still gazing openly at him, seeming slightly confused and maybe
even a bit lost in thought. And when she lightly touches a hand to his
face it seems to be in a sort of disbelieving awe. “That’s so weird…”
“What is?”
“You really look like him.” Frankie whispers timidly, nearly gasping as
she says it.
Louis frowns for a moment at a loss for what she could mean, before
realization slowly dawns on him. “Your husband? I remind you of your
husband?”
She nods, deeply searching his eyes. “I didn’t want to admit that at first
because…I don’t know—it’s bizarre…but…you really do…”
“That’s even more reason to trust me then.” Louis smiles warmly, not
mentioning the fact that her slight resemblance to Harry is not only
alarming but fucking weird as hell. But he hardly has time to dwell on
how oddly strange it all is, because out of nowhere Frankie starts
screaming, the vice grip her hand has on his practically cutting off all
his circulation.
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“Fucking hell, you’re strong.” Louis curses, mostly to himself because
she’s hardly paying him any attention as she braves through her first
wave of contractions. “Deep breaths, remember, Frankie?” Breathe—
”
But Frankie isn’t at all thinking about breathing, her only coping
mechanism right now is to scream and shout any and every thing that
comes to her mind, which mainly includes multiple variations of the
word fuck.
“Frankie, you have to breathe.” Louis reminds once again, trying to

focus her attention. “We’re going to the closest hospital, alright. Your
contractions are just starting so they shouldn’t be too close together
yet and—”
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, that fucking hurts!” Frankie yells, eyes still clenched
tightly shut as she leans over herself. “I’m sorry Louis...just, like, give
me a minute…”
“No, please—do whatever you need.” Louis encourages, giving her

space.
“Ok, no. No, I’m fine—I’m ok, I can do this, it’s f-fine.” Frankie
attempts to calm herself down, hobbling around in small circles. “I’m
just going to breathe—breathe just like you said right, Louis? I just
need to breathe…”
“Right.” Louis nods, watching her closely, ready to run to her side as
soon as she needs him. “Focus everything on your breathing.”
“Breathe Françoise—pull yourself together and just fucking breathe.

You’re fine. You got this.” She encourages herself with a quick pep
talk, exhaling steady streams from her mouth as she bounces side to
side from one foot to the other. “Ok…I think I’m good for now, we
can go.”
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Louis comes up next to her in order to help her waddle the rest of the
way to his car. “Are you French? That’s your full name, right?”
“Actually, it’s Françoise Adélaïde Elvéra Barreau.” Frankie recites,

allowing her accent to come through as she speaks.
“That’s such a beautiful name.” Louis awes, smiling at her.
“My mother sure thinks so. It’s a fucking mouthful though. She says
I’ve ‘Americanized’ myself, but it’s not even true—I love my full name,
but I also think ‘Frankie’ is short and sweet and easy.”
“Well, I think they’re both lovely and—”
“Oh no—there’s another one!” Frankie yelps, once again holding

Louis’ hand in the tightest grip Louis has ever experienced.
“Breathe, Frankie. Breathe through it, love.” Louis encourages gently,

supporting her weight as she leans against him. Louis starts timing her
contractions in his head, hoping that they don’t get any closer together
before they can get to a hospital.
She nods her head with every breath she takes, eyes clenched shut.
“Ok, ok…I’m breathing…”
“Good, are you ok? Can you make it the rest of the way to my car?”
Frankie opens her eyes as she exhales. “Y-Yeah…I can do it...”
“Just tell me if you need to stop.” Louis guides her, moving one
wobbly step at a time. “I’m right here with you.”
They only have a few more feet before finally reaching Louis’ car when
he suddenly remembers that Benny is still waiting inside of it. “Do you
like dogs?”
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“Um…that’s kinda random, isn’t it?” Frankie lets out a sudden laugh,
glancing at him. “Are you trying to distract me?”
Louis laughs lightly along with her. “No uh…I only ask because my
dog is in my car and I don’t want him to freak you out or something.”
“You seem like a dog person.” Frankie decides. “What’s his name?”
Louis pauses before answering. “Benedict.”
Frankie slows her practiced breathing only to give him a look of

curious confusion. “You don’t find that name to be a bit odd for a
dog?”
“Don’t judge me, it’s a long story.” Louis sighs, shaking his head.
Frankie manages a smirk. “It’s gotta be with a name like that.”
They make it to Louis’ Range Rover and just as Louis thought,

Benedict is pressed against window waiting keenly for his return.
When Louis opens the rear passenger door to help Frankie inside,
Benedict sticks his head out towards her, wagging his tail and all too
eager to make a brand new friend.
“Benny, calm down, ok. We don’t have time for all that right now.”
“Ooh, he’s adorable.” Frankie smiles, a bit of the stress creasing her
concentrated face melts from her features. And Benedict takes to her
right away, crowding her as he tries to lick her face. It's odd because
he can be so finicky when it comes to new people, yet he's taking to
Frankie as though he already knows her.
“I’m sorry, he gets so excited—Benny, down, boy. Come on, you’re all
up in her space. Move over there, bud.” Louis commands, directing
the dog back towards the front seat.
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“He can stay by me, it’s ok. I don’t mind.” Frankie gives Benedict’s
ears a scratch, which is the worst mistake she could have ever made
because now he will never leave her alone again. “As long as he doesn’t
mind me screaming and cursing at him every three seconds.”
“I’m sure he’ll manage.” Louis rolls his eyes at his attention seeking
dog and goes back to helping Frankie settle into the backseat of his
car, making sure she’s as comfortable as possible before closing the car
door. Benedict is sat contently right beside her, acting as though he’s
just made a new best friend.
Louis navigates back onto the road, careful to avoid all the wreckage
Frankie’s car left behind. There’s still no service out here, so he’s just
driving aimlessly down the dark path, hoping to get to either a hospital
or a functional cell tower so that he can call for help, whatever comes
first.
“Can I—can I call you Lou?” Frankie asks randomly, once they’ve
been driving for a few minutes. “I feel like we are about to become
very close tonight.”
Louis nods, knowing she is probably right about that. “Yes, of course.
Call me whatever you like, Frankie.”
“Alright. Distract me, Lou.” Frankie begs, squeezing her eyes shut as
another contraction passes. She’s getting a bit better at handling them
now, screaming marginally less than before. “Goddammit! What
the fuck—sorry…sorry. I really can’t control my mouth right now.”
“It’s alright, love. Whatever gets you through it.” Louis supports.
“What do you want me to distract you with?”
“You…your life. You are far too cute to be single and that accent—
god, everyone must be so in love with you. The sweet, sexy English
doctor.”
“Haaa.” Louis half laughs, half sighs.

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“You don’t have a ring or a tan line, so I’m guessing you aren’t
married.” Frankie determines correctly.
“I’m not, no.”
“Why not?” Frankie wonders.
“Um…a casualty of the job?” Louis tries, although he knows it

couldn’t be further from the truth.
Frankie pulls a face, making eye contact with him through the
reflection of the rearview mirror. “I don’t buy it.”
“I’m a very busy man you know.”
“But—motherfucking son of a bitch!” Frankie shouts suddenly,

throwing her head back as she yells through the pain of her next
contraction. They seem to be getting closer together and Louis doesn’t
know how much longer she has.
“Ok, I’m sorry—where were we?” Frankie breathes in deeply as it

begins to pass.
“Um…you were asking me why I’m not married.” Louis reminds

easily.
“Ooh right...marriage…” Frankie exhales heavily, bending down a bit

in her seat. “Well, do you…do you have kids?” She wonders next,
holding up Avery’s missing stuffed Walrus.
“Lemon—oh my god, she’s been looking everywhere for that.” Louis

gasps in surprise. She must have left it in his car months ago when he
had to pick her up from school. He can’t believe it’s been back there
this whole time and he didn’t even notice.
“So you have a daughter then?” Frankie guesses from his reaction.
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“Oh…erm no…I mean kind of—yeah.” Louis stumbles through his
answer, not even knowing how to describe it.
Frankie’s brows furrow together, clearly confused by his choice of

words.
“I have...a…um…Avery.” Louis smiles warmly at just the thought of

her, expression softening. “She’s not mine…exactly—but
she’s...everything.”
Frankie’s expression doesn’t change, but it’s clear that she’s waiting for
an explanation.
“It’s complicated.” Louis sighs, returning the majority of his attention

to the road again. “She’s the daughter of the love of my life, but he
doesn’t exactly know that I still love him.”
“Mmm.” Frankie hums to herself. “And what’s his name?”
“Harry...” Louis can’t stop the upturn of his lips as he says his name,
a hint of a blush ghosting his cheeks while everything warm and good
manifests and unfurls in the center of his chest.
“And why doesn’t Harry know that you love him? Why haven’t you
told him?”
“Honestly…well…I just—I don’t at all know what I’m doing. I’m only
out here in the middle of nowhere because I don’t know what to do—
what I should do rather…” Louis starts in rambled, circled sentences.
“We have so much history…me and him…ten years’ worth of shit
history and we’ve both been though a lot and survived horrible
losses…and uh…it complicates things, I guess? But I…I love him—
after all these years I know that I really love him…I’ve always loved
him and you know what? He loves me back. He finally admitted that
he fucking loves me back and it’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear him say
but yet I—I… I’m avoiding him—it shouldn’t be this hard for me to
tell him how I feel, you know? But I...just—everyone I’ve ever loved
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has died or been taken away from me and I just I…” Louis shakes his
head, shrugging at a loss for what he’s even trying to say. “God—why
am I so fucked up…sorry...”
“No, no please get it all out.” Frankie encourages. “We’re all a little
fucked up, no need to apologize.”
Louis smiles at her in the rearview mirror, there’s something about

Frankie that he can’t help but like, something so familiar it’s almost
unnerving. And he’s about to agree with her wholeheartedly when
Frankie suddenly cries out in pain, clutching her stomach. It’s far
louder and even more urgent than it has been up until now and it
immediately sends off red flags in Louis’ head.
Louis twists around in his seat to get a sideways look at her. “Frankie?
Frankie, is it just a contraction? Tell me what it feels like.”
Frankie continues screaming with her eyes squeezed shut, hands on

her prominent belly, unable to even answer Louis.
“Fuck.” Louis swiftly pulls the car to the side of the road safely before
leaping out and going to the backseat. He turns on all the overhead
lights in the cabin of the car, to gain some kind of visibility in the
darkened space.
Louis palpates his hands over Frankie’s belly, feeling around to try to
get a handle on the situation and gain some kind of understanding as
to what could possibly be going on. But it doesn’t feel right, something
is definitely wrong. These aren’t typical contractions that she’s feeling.
“Frankie, lie back for me, alright? I’m going to do a pelvic exam, ok?
You might feel some discomfort, but just relax as much as you can. I
have to feel what’s wrong.”
Frankie nods weakly, but she’s clearly in so much pain that it’s hard
for her to even acknowledge him.
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Louis quickly runs to the back hatch of his Range Rover, grabbing the
sorry excuse for a first aid kit that he always keeps in the trunk. There’s
not much else he can do but try to somehow make it work. He rolls
up the sleeves of his hoodie all the way to his elbows and squirts hand
sanitizer all over his arms and hands in a shameful attempt at
sterilization, pulling on a pair of thin disposable gloves from his measly
first aid kit.
Frankie is still groaning in pain from the backseat, lying on her back
with her knees hiked up. Her contractions are getting closer and closer
together at a distressing pace and she is almost completely dilated to
ten centimeters from what Louis can feel, but that’s not the only issue
here, he knows it can’t be. Mentally he begins preparing himself for
the prospect of delivering this baby in the back of his car on the side
of the fucking road—not something he was at all planning to do. He
had hoped that somehow, someway, they would make it to a hospital,
but her labor is too forgone at this stage. She’s close to crowning, near
the second stage of labor, except as Louis continues to feel around for
the baby’s position, he figures out exactly what is wrong. Instead of a
baby’s head angling down most prominently towards him, Louis is
horrified to realize that it’s a foot.
“Oh no…” Louis breathes to himself, probably a bit too loud though
because Frankie seems to hear him.
“Oh no? What d-does that m-mean?” She immediately panics in a

shaky voice, attempting to sit up a little but hardly being able to.
“Why…w-why did you say that, Louis? What’s w-wrong—is s-
something wrong?”
Louis doesn’t answer right away, thinking to himself. The last thing he
wants to do is worry her, but at the same time she needs to know the
truth before they can try and do anything about it.
“L-Lou, tell me.” Frankie pleads emotionally.
“It’s a breech.” Louis answers, trying to keep himself calm, while also
figure out what he can do with the limited resources he has. “It could
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be because of the accident or…or maybe it’s the pain you said you
were feeling earlier but…basically your baby is upside down.”
“Oh my g-god!” Frankie shrieks in absolute hysterics, panicked tears

raging down her ruddy cheeks. “Is…is h-he going to d-die—he can’t
die, L-Lou, he c-can’t!”
He continues to feel around, trying to ensure that the baby has a pulse
of some kind and is not having his blood supply cut off by an umbilical
cord prolapse. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he feels the
slight pulsation of the unborn baby.
“Frankie. Frankie, please, love.” Louis calms, leaning up to look at her

face. “I know this is scary, I know, but you have to stay calm, ok? It’s
really important that you stay as calm as possible.”
She’s sobbing so hard that her entire body is quivering, one arm slung
over her face, covering her eyes. Frankie shakes her head repeatedly at
an increasing pace and she is anything but calm. “I…I can’t lose h-him
t-too…”
“Hey, hey look at me.” Louis pleads softly, waiting for her to lift her
arm and meet his eyes. “You aren’t going to lose this baby, ok? I
promise you that.”
“You p-promise…?” Frankie’s bottom lip quivers and it’s clear that
she’s barely holding it together.
“Yes, I promise. Yes.” Louis answers as certainly as he can even

though he’s completely terrified of what might happen. And it’s not
the first time that’s he’s made a promise that he doesn’t know if he can
even keep. But just like the times before, all he can do is try his very
best and hope that his sheer determination is enough.
Louis stops and thinks for a moment, every gear in his mind turning
as he heavily weighs all his options as fast as he can. Starting an
emergency C-section is what would be done if they were in a hospital,
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but they aren’t, and it isn’t realistic for him to attempt one here. Not
with the meager tools he has available in his first aid kit, lacking
antiseptic and any sort of local or topical anesthetic. There’s no telling
how close the nearest hospital is and there’s also no guarantee that
even if it is close that Frankie or the baby would make it there in time.
That only leaves one option.
Whether he wants to or not, Louis is going to have deliver this baby

himself in the back of his Range Rover. To reverse the breech and
properly rotate the baby, he’ll have to use a cross between two related
techniques, an internal and external cephalic version. An ECV can be
risky if not done correctly and it doesn’t help that it’s been awhile since
Louis last did an OB/GYN rotation. It won’t be anywhere near
comfortable for Frankie, but it just may be her only hope.
“Ok Frankie, we’re going to deliver this baby.” Louis decides, blowing
out a gust of breath.
“R-right now?” Frankie worries timidly.
“Right now.” Louis confirms. “But to do that, I have to move the baby
around first.”
“But…h-how?”
“Frankie, love I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt like
hell.” Louis tells her honestly, wanting to be as upfront about it from
the beginning. “Like a fucking bitch probably and I’m so sorry—I
really wish I had an epidural for you to make it easier—but you can do
this and it’s going to be worth it when you get to hold your son.”
Frankie closes her eyes and nods her head, more tears running down
her flushed face.
“It’s you and me, ok. It’s you and me and no matter what we are going
to get through this together.” Louis reassures, speaking a confidence
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he barely has in him. “You can scream and shout and call me names—
whatever gets you through this. Just try your best to breathe deeply
and I’ll tell you when to push, ok?”
She opens her green eyes and she looks absolutely terrified—fear
coating every inch of her teary face. “Lou?”
“Yes?”
Frankie’s wide eyes are earnest as she looks to him. “T-Thank

you…for b-being here w-with me…”
It’s not at all what he was expecting her to say and it takes him a little
off guard, nearly spurring easily reachable tears right out of him. This
baby means the entire world to her—the last piece she has left of the
man she loved, their only child together. And Louis refuses to be
responsible for taking that away from her.
“Ready?” Louis whispers, checking one last time for her slight nod.
There’s no going back from here.
With both hands placed on her abdomen, Louis applies heavy pressure
externally first, pushing upwards in an attempt to move the baby away
from the pelvis and create space. Frankie is already screaming a whole
chain of profanities, and Louis is almost impressed by how many
different ones she can string together in one breath. At one point she
even slaps Louis, looking shocked by her own actions. It’s a pretty hard
slap too, not that Louis is surprised, he’s learned the hard way that
she’s incredibly strong.
“I’m sorry—I’m s-sorry I didn’t mean t-that!” Frankie apologizes

through her pained tears. “It was a r-reflex, I swear!”
“It’s alright, I get it. I would slap me too.”
Louis continues to apply targeted pressure, and Frankie continues to

scream at the top of her lungs. He feels absolutely awful about it, but
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he knows that it’s the only thing that is going to save her life and her
unborn child’s life, avoiding further life-threatening complications.
“I know, I know…I’m so sorry.” He tries as much as he can to soothe

her, wishing he could take the pain away. “Stay with me please, you
can do this. Just a little more, love.”
Louis makes sure to pause every so often to give Frankie a break and
also to manually check the position of the baby. Usually an ultrasound
would be used to monitor the procedure intermittently, but Louis has
to feel it all by hand, hoping that by some miracle he’s getting it as
close to right as possible. It’s a tedious process of pushing and pulling
and manipulating her uterus in terribly uncomfortable ways, but
eventually Louis is able to rotate the baby from completely upside
down to sideways and finally to the head first presentation necessary
for delivery.
Louis gives her a moment to try and catch her breath, understanding
how much discomfort she must be in. Frankie is crying uncontrollably,
and he doesn’t even want to ask her to push, he doesn’t want her to
have to go through anymore of this.
“Frankie, darling, you’re so brave.” Louis says gently, hoping his

encouragements reach her. “You have to push now, ok? You can do
this.”
She’s still sobbing heavily, sounding so insufferably scared. “No,

no…n-no— I don’t want to—no, n-no I…I can’t do it a-
anymore…no…”
“Hey, Frankie, love, it’s ok.” Louis leans up so she that can see him
and hopefully believe him. “You’re ok, you’re going to get through
this.”
“N-No…no I can’t, Lou I can’t— it h-hurts…” Frankie breaks down

even more and Louis can see the pure defeat on her face as she wildly
shakes her head in dread. “It’s t-too much—I c-can’t…”
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“You can.” Louis encourages in confidence, meeting her eyes. “You
can do this, I know you can. You’ve come too far to give up now.”
Frankie holds Louis’ gaze, seeming to draw strength from it the longer
she looks at him.
“Just try for me.” Louis begs softly. “Please try, ok? It’s your baby, I
want you to meet your baby.”
Frankie nods faintly, taking in a few faltered breaths. “I’ll t-try…”
“On the count of three, alright?” Louis prepares, taking in a breath

himself. “One, two, three, push!”
Frankie starts to push, giving her very all even though she doesn’t even
have it in her. And the whole time Louis continues to shower her with
praise and encouragement, making sure that she knows she’s not alone
in this. It seems to help her get through it, giving her something else
to focus on.
“That’s it, Frankie. You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you.”
Her entire face is scrunched up completely, teeth gritted as she screams

her way through it, sweat at her brow mixing with the tears at her
cheeks. She’s out of breath, she’s exhausted herself, but she’s still
trying her very best and Louis can’t help but admire her for that.
“Come on, Frankie almost there, you can do it. Wait—stop!” Louis
says suddenly, noting the fluctuating complexion of the baby’s head.
And it doesn’t take Louis long to figure out that the umbilical cord has
twisted its way around the baby’s neck and every time Frankie pushes,
it asphyxiates tighter around his airway. It’s a common occurrence that
happens with breeched babies and Louis can’t believe he forgot to
continue checking for it as she began to push.
“Why…w-what’s wrong…” She worries weakly, her strength fading.
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“Just hold on, Frankie…” Louis tells her as calmly as he can, deciding
not to give her the full truth this time because he doesn’t want to stress
her out even more than she already is. He takes the small first aid
scissors from the kit and carefully uses them to clip the cord early,
relieving the built-up pressure around the unborn baby’s airway.
“Ok, just give me one more push, love. I know you’re tired, but it’s
almost over, I promise.” Louis reassures, praying that it’s enough.
“One more, Frankie. Just one more.”
Louis doesn’t know where she gets the strength to do it, not after
everything that she’s gone through today alone, but somehow, she puts
in one finally push, which is just enough to fully deliver her baby.
“He’s out—you did it!” Louis announces, carefully holding the newly
born baby boy in his arms. Louis can feel his brachial pulse, but yet
the baby hasn’t made a single sound.
Frankie is completely spent, head lulled to the side in exhaustion as

she exhales heavily, trying to catch her breath. “He’s n-not crying…”
She mutters in a hoarse whisper, eyes barely kept open. “W-Why isn’t
he…crying…”
The newborn still appears somewhat cyanotic and he has yet to take
his first breath. And Louis prays that there isn’t anything major
obstructing the infant’s airways, because he is hardly prepared for a full
neonatal resuscitation considering their less than ideal situation. Louis
uses two fingers to apply repeated pressure to the center of his tiny
chest, counting the beats inside his head and hoping the
cardiopulmonary stimulation is enough to get his system going. It takes
a few lengthy moments before the baby sputters into a healthy cry.
“There he is, there’s a good lad.” Louis smiles emotionally,

overwhelmed by relief as he tears up a little. Gazing down at the new,
innocent life in his arms, it all feels worth it. He doesn’t have a blanket
in his car, so Louis wraps the baby up in a jumper from his suitcase
and presents him to his mother. “You’re a mum now, Frankie.
Congratulations, he’s beautiful.”
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Frankie’s face goes soft as she looks at her precious newborn son.
She’s clearly drained all of her energy, but a peaceful bliss begins to
coat her features until her eyes roll back against her head, before
closing altogether as her body goes completely lax.
“Frankie? Frankie!” Louis taps on her face several times to try and
wake her up, calling her name repeatedly but all to no avail. “Frankie,
can you hear me?”
Louis is now painfully aware of the head laceration Frankie sustained,

the fluid pressure in her brain could have been building this whole
time, hemorrhaging and only exacerbated by the stress of her painful
delivery. She still has a pulse, it’s faint, but it’s holding on and there’s
breath still leaving her nostrils in drawn out intervals.
“Shit.” Louis worries, knowing that he only has a limited window to

get her to a hospital, except there’s still no service in this area and he
has not the faintest idea where the nearest one is. But he’s got to try—
Louis can’t stand idly by and watch her die right before his eyes, not
when they’ve already come this far, and she has a brand new baby who
needs her.
Louis quickly adjusts Frankie’s body enough to buckle her seatbelt,

holding the newborn baby to his chest as he jumps into the driver’s
seat. “Hold on, Frankie—please hold on.”
The stakes are high, the anxious stress of the situation is unbearably
increasing. The curving road is dark as fuck, still slick from the
downpour of rain earlier, and Louis is focusing all of his determination
on trying to drive as fast as he can as safely as he can, all while
balancing a crying infant in one arm.
Benny, bless his heart, is perched protectively by Frankie in the

backseat, making little high-pitched whining sounds, clearly sensing
that something is not right with her.
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Without knowing where he’s going, it feels like Louis is driving into a
hopeless abyss, growing bleaker and bleaker by each desolate mile. He
doesn’t want to lose hope, he doesn’t want to give up because what is
the point of all this if she dies too—what is the fucking point of any
of it? Why is life always throwing him twists and curveballs with no
clue how to decipher what it all means?
“Wireless connection established.”
“Nearest hospital!” Louis screams immediately at the car intercom.
“Would you like directions to the nearest hospital?”
“Yes—yes! Fuck!”
“Starting route to Cedarwood Community Hospital.”
The directions finally load onto the display screen and Louis breathes
a slight sigh of relief when he sees that the hospital is only 2.7 miles
away from where he currently is. It gives him all the push he needs to
just focus on getting to the hospital.
It’s a small, most likely privately-owned hospital that Louis pulls up to

a few minutes later. They don’t even have an emergency room
entrance, so Louis drives to the very front and throws the gear into
park in the loading lane.
He jumps out of the car with the baby curled to his chest, leaving the
driver side door wide open as he runs inside the hospital to the main
lobby, shouting as loud as his lungs will carry. “Help! Help! I need
help!”
There’s not a soul in the entire lobby and that means there’s probably
not too many people on staff at this time of night, given that it’s such
a small facility. But Louis continues yelling anyway, figuring that
eventually someone will hear him. And it works because only thirty
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seconds later a resident of some kind runs out to meet him, looking
utterly alarmed. “Sir, are you ok? What happened to you?”
Louis realizes that he has a lot of blood on himself and it’s hard to tell
what he’s screaming about. He knows how crazed he must look
running into the lobby of a quaint, quiet hospital in the middle of the
night, covered in bloodstains and muddy rainwater with a newborn
baby and a dog, but what else is he supposed to do?
“No—I mean it’s not me—I’m ok. I wasn’t in the accident.” Louis
tries to explain, adrenaline coursing hot in his bloodstream and it’s like
he can’t even catch his breath. He lifts his free hand to point outside
while cradling the swaddled baby with the other. “S-She’s
outside…in…in my car…”
The resident rushes to follow Louis back outside to the car he hardly
parked. Louis flings open the rear passenger door where Frankie still
lies comatose. “She…she was in an accident—she just gave
birth…and—”
The resident leans into the car and briefly inspects Frankie, but it’s
clear that he has little, if any, hands-on emergency response training.
“Is this your wife, sir?”
“No, we just met—I told you she was in an accident—a really bad car
accident and I f-found her and uh delivered the baby but then it—it
was a breech and her head is—she passed out and her pulse
and…and—”
“Sir, slow down.” The resident says, talking to him as though he’s
some sort of child. “You need to calm down.”
“No! No, I will not calm down! She needs a CT scan now!” Louis
insists, focusing himself as much as he possibly can so he doesn’t
sound so scattered. He takes in a deep breath, reminding himself that
he is far better under pressure than this and if Frankie is going to live,
she needs Louis to get his shit together and act like the experienced
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surgeon he is. “Look, she’s already lost a lot of blood—she’s got a
severe head lac affecting her inferior frontal lobe and it’s hemorrhaging
as we speak. She needs surgery right away—”
“We aren’t a trauma center—we aren’t equipped to treat her.”
Obviously, Louis figured that already, especially with the lack of an

emergency room entrance as well as lack of adequately trained staff.
“Do you have an O.R. on grounds?”
“Yes, of course, but we mainly perform outpatient procedures.” He

explains regretfully. “No one here is trained to handle that kind of
procedure.”
“I am—I’ll do it, I’ll operate. Just give me O.R. privileges, I’m a

neurosurgeon.”
The resident seems utterly taken aback by this news, his first instinct
seeming to be distrust. Louis gets that he doesn’t quite look the part
in his current state, but why the hell would he lie about something as
serious as that in a situation like this. “We can't just take your word for
it—I mean things have to be verified and approved. You could be
anyone—”
“I know how the process works—just fucking google me!” Louis

barks, quickly becoming irritated by this resident’s overall
incompetence. “Dr. Louis Tomlinson. I’m the Head of Neurosurgery
at Seaside Seattle Medical Center.”
“Ok, but…um…even if that’s true, there are still papers and forms—
”
“We can deal with the fucking paperwork after, ok!” Louis snaps, not
giving a fuck anymore. “She is going to die if left untreated for much
longer! What part of ‘she needs surgery right away’ do you not
understand!?”
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“I can’t just override the protocol. I’m not authorized—”
“Well then get me someone who is authorized! I can’t believe you’re

really going to stand there and argue this with me when there is literally
a dying woman who just gave birth in your fucking parking lot!” Louis
rants angrily, unable to even pretend to bite his tongue after the
ongoing hours of pure, insufferable hell he’s had. He was bound to
snap eventually, pushed long past his breaking point. “What kind of
hospital is this! I know you’re not a trauma center, that much is
obvious—but anyone with some kind of medical training or at the very
least, common sense, should understand what an emergency looks like!”
The resident gawks, not knowing what to say. “I uh…um…well…”
“Page someone and help her for fucks sake!” Louis is truly
flabbergasted that the resident still hasn’t moved an inch. He swears
that if nothing changes in the next five seconds, he’s going to figure
out a way to carry Frankie and her baby into whatever O.R. they have
at this stupid hospital all by his fucking self and let the consequences
be fucking damned.
But Louis’ boisterous outburst has acquired the attention of what

appears to be another doctor, running over to meet them accompanied
by a few other medical staff. But she looks to be of a higher rank than
the resident he’s been forced to deal with, thank god.
“Dr. Tomlinson?” She addresses him by name, most likely having

overheard most of Louis’ tirade given how incredibly loud he was.
“I’m Dr. Nelson, The Chief here…It’s an honor to have you here,
Doctor. I was actually planning on attending your presentation at the
conference tomorrow.”
Louis just stares at her, not having any decent words left in him. If he
says anything else, it’s not going to be pretty, so it’s best that he just
doesn’t open his mouth anymore. He can’t help how ferociously
protective he gets over people he feels personally responsible for, over
people he cares about. This is a matter of life and death, Louis refuses
to be calm about it.
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“Dr. Tomlinson is right, we can deal with the formalities later.” Dr.
Nelson decides immediately, gesturing towards the other staff that she
brought with her. “Let’s call the O.R. and get Dr. Tomlinson to surgery
ASAP.”
“Right away, Dr. Nelson.” They begin situating Frankie’s body on a

gurney, securing oxygen to her face as they rush her through the sliding
doors of the main hospital entrance.
A nurse requests to take the newborn baby and Louis almost doesn’t
want to hand him over to her; it’s not her fault but he’s quickly
developed a severe lack of trust with the staff of this hospital. But
logically he knows that he can’t possibly hold a baby and operate at the
same time, so he reluctantly passes the swaddled infant to her, eyeing
the nurse the whole time.
“Right this way, Dr. Tomlinson.” Dr. Nelson prompts politely.
Louis first picks up Benedict’s leash from where it’s fallen to the
ground, still tethered to his harness. “Could you…” He hands the
resident Benedict’s leash, giving him a task so he can finally be of some
good fucking use.
The resident takes the leash, but is already shaking his head. “There’s
no dogs allowed in—”
“You’ll figure it out. Great, thanks.” Louis interjects in a clipped voice,

avoiding any more power struggles as he follows after Dr. Nelson.
||☤||
After the surgery, which managed to run for seven long hours, Louis
stumbles to the first available quiet space he can find in the small
hospital and collapses on the couch. He doesn’t think about where he
is or who might come looking for him, he doesn’t have the energy to
care about any of it. Louis curls his body up to fit within the cushions
of the loveseat sized couch he’s using as a bed, and passes out for some
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much needed rest, the stressful exhaustion of the past few days lulling
him right to sleep in seconds.
When he wakes up, Louis finds Benedict cuddled up next to him,

somehow making space for himself where there wasn’t any real space
at all to begin with.
Louis blinks groggily, feeling completely disoriented and hardly

remembering where he is at all. “How’d you get in here, B?”
“He refused to leave you.”
Louis jumps, startled by the unexpected presence of someone else in

the room.
“Sorry—sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I was just picking up a few

things.” Dr. Nelson says from where she’s standing by a desk. “You
seemed like you probably needed the sleep more than I needed my
office.”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—” Louis apologizes genuinely, sounding

mortified as he abruptly sits up on the couch. “I didn’t mean to just
crash in your office like that, I wasn’t even thinking clearly and I—”
“No, it’s perfectly alright, Dr. Tomlinson.” Dr. Nelson waves off
understandingly. “I know how it is.”
Louis flicks his gaze down to his watch and has to do a double take
when he sees the time is nearly seven at night. “Have I really been
asleep for fourteen hours?”
Dr. Nelson nods, giving him a small smile. “You were knocked out.”
“Well, fuck.” Louis scrubs his hands over his face, leaning back against
the couch as he blows out a heavy huff of breath. He knew he was
tired, but not that tired. In an odd way it sort of feels like last night’s
exhaustion and stress had triggered him into becoming The Hulk and
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now he’s back to being Bruce Banner again. “I guess it’s safe to say
I’m definitely not speaking at that conference now.”
“Afraid not.” She laughs lightly. “It’s a shame though, I was looking
forward to hearing your presentation. I’ve followed your work for
awhile.”
“You wouldn’t have been missing anything, I assure you.” Louis says,
sighing to himself. “Between you and me, I didn’t even have a
presentation prepared. I was literally planning on going up there and
just winging it. I’d probably would have pulled an old case study out
of my ass and hoped for the best.”
“You’re joking.” Dr. Nelson gapes in surprise, chuckling. He’s really

not living up to the name that precedes him—she probably thinks he’s
a damn quack doctor now.
Louis shakes his head, laughing a bit with her. “Nope. Totally serious.
That’s just the kind of week I’ve had.” He sighs again, running a hand
though his oily hair—ugh, he’s a mess. “I really am sorry for
commandeering your office like that, it was rude and—”
“Dr. Tomlinson, it’s fine, really.” Dr. Nelson assures again. “We all
have weeks like that. I completely understand.”
Louis offers her a thankful smile. “How’s Frankie doing?” The surgery
all feels like a distant blur now and he’s hoping that in his manic state,
he didn’t botch up her brain.
“Fantastic, thanks to you. She’s been asking for you actually, if you’d
like to go see her.”
Before making his way over to check in on Frankie, Louis knows he

has to do something about his hygienic appearance. Louis feels
absolutely gross, wearing a pair of ugly puce colored scrubs that he
operated in the night before, but still feeling traces of all sorts of grime
on his skin. He showers in the tiny intern locker room, scrubbing away
787
the remaining grunge until he feels even more like himself again. His
comfy joggers are still all muddy and blood stained from the accident,
so Louis changes into the only other outfit he foolishly brought with
him, which happens to be a full suit. It’s a lot, but at least he’s clean.
Louis also makes a point to track down the poor resident from the
night before and apologize to him for his outburst, as well as thank
him for watching his dog. Although he was right in many senses, Louis
recognizes that it also wasn’t his most professional moment and for
that he is completely apologetic.
“All dressed up just to see little old me?” Frankie teases when Louis
walks into her hospital room in his fitted black suit. And the way she
says it somehow reminds him instantly of Gemma. It’s exactly
something that she would say to him. The features of her face are
sweet and kind, freckles peppering her cheeks that Louis didn’t notice
in all the chaos of before.
Louis smirks out of the corner of his mouth as he leans against the
doorway. “Obviously.”
“You clean up really well, you know. Not that you were in any way
hideously unattractive in a hoodie and sweats or anything, but…” She
smirks at him knowingly.
He laughs, walking into the room, taking a look at her monitors as he

picks up her chart. They still have paper charts at this hospital, which
is hardly shocking considering their level of care. “So how are you
feeling?”
“I’m on so many drugs and pain relievers and shit, how the hell would
I know?” Frankie shrugs a bit, smiling wide.
“You really are such a mess.” Louis shakes his head in a fond sort of
way. “I thought it was just because you were in labor, but no…that’s
just 100% you.”
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“Charming, I know.” Frankie grins, and it’s a bit lopsided, only one
dimple in her cheek. “It’s how I get all the boys. My husband used to
call me ‘the most endearing kind of eccentric’.”
“That’s cute and it suits you, I think.” Louis compliments. “It sounds
like he knew you very well.”
“He was my best friend…” Frankie’s voice dies out and she gazes off
for a second in thought as something dark flickers over her features, a
shadow of tremendous sadness. But then she blinks out of it, shaking
her head to move herself on before lifting her gaze back up, completely
refocused.
“So, I’ve thought of a name.” Frankie announces around a growing

smile that brightens her face back up again.
Louis sits down on the edge of her bed. “For your baby?”
She nods eagerly, pretty green eyes lit up with excitement.
“Is it French? Because I’m expecting a full French name. Nothing else
will do him justice.”
“Um…unintendedly yes, actually. But nothing like my name, I’m

afraid. I mean—my name just can’t be topped.”
“Let’s hear it then.” Louis encourages, curious to hear it.
She pauses purposefully, holding his gaze steady for a few moments
before revealing the name. “Louis David. And I’m going to call him
little Lou all the time.”
“You’re naming your son after me?” Louis asks in utter disbelief,
totally taken aback as blinks at her.
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He’s waiting for her to tell him that she’s only joking, that she just
wanted to see his reaction or something like that, but she never does.
Instead Frankie takes his closest hand in hers, looking to him with so
much thankful admiration in her eyes. “He never would have been
born without you, Lou. You saved both of our lives and for the rest
of my life, I’ll always be thankful to you for that.”
“Frankie…” Louis shakes his head at a loss for words, hand limp in
her hand.
“No, Louis it’s not even just that…it’s…” Frankie pauses, growing
emotional as a few heavy droplets fall from under her eyes, rolling
along her cheekbones. She glances up, trying to collect her thoughts
and stop herself from full on crying. “…I don’t know how to put it
into words but…I was so scared of being alone when it was time for
the baby to come...I didn’t want to have to do it all by myself
and…and…you were here. He—David… he c-couldn’t be here with
me…but I don’t know—you were and it’s…it’s almost like he was
too…and it may not make sense to you or at all but—”
“It does.” Louis whispers behind a soft smile, holding onto her hand
tightly. “I get it.”
“I want you to be his godfather.” Frankie tells him next, water still
lining her eyes.
Louis can only stare back at her, mouth open in surprise. “Frankie,
that’s…I mean—are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m fucking sure, Lou!” Frankie smiles expressively, wiping her
tearful eyes. “It has to be you.”
Louis feels so incredibly honored, moved beyond belief. “I’m…I mean

I’m speechless—I really don’t know what to say…”
“You don’t have to say anything.” She assures him, giving his palm a
squeeze. “But…you know what you can do?”
790
“Anything for you, Frankie.”
“I want you to go home and tell that Harry of yours exactly how you
feel about him.”
Louis laughs sardonically, scoffing down at his feet.
“I’m serious, Louis.”
“I’m sure you are.” Louis glances to her.
“It doesn’t have to be perfect, it doesn’t even have to make sense…just

tell him how you feel.” Frankie urges, inclining her head towards him
gently. “You just have to say it, Lou.”
It really does sound so simple and easy when she says it like that. But
it’s not simple, nor is it anywhere near easy. He knows that she is only
trying to help, but she may not know how much it’s actually asking of
him.
“Look, I know I only just met you, but I feel like…I don’t know—I
feel so close to you somehow and I also feel completely indebted to
you for saving my life and my son’s life and I just…I really want you
to be happy—it’s important to me.” Frankie tells him earnestly, with
her hand clamped around his. “There’s a pain hidden in your eyes,
Lou. And the only reason I can see it, is because I understand it—I’ve
felt it. I can see it on your face, like a dark cloud weighing you down
and the only time it begins to fade away is when you talk about him.
About Harry.”
Louis lifts his gaze to her, already shaking his head, wanting to make
her understand. “Frankie—”
“No, Louis listen to me for a second.” Frankie interjects before he can

even begin to argue with her. She takes a deep breath, dropping her
gaze down to her lap for a moment as she gathers her words. When
she lifts her head back up, there’s even more water brimming at her
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emerald eyes, an unparalleled vulnerability in the emotional expression
on her face. “I…I would give everything to have my h-husband back
with me a-again. He was the love of my life…my f-favorite person in
the world—he knew me better than anyone…and I s-spend every last
moment without him feeling like there’s an unfillable hole in my h-
heart. I would give a-anything to be able to tell him how much I love
him just o-one more time…”
As he listens to her speak, Louis’ heart aches from the deep within his
chest, eyes stinging as a profound sadness hallows his core,
internalizing the grave loss she feels. It’s inconceivable, to lose your
love, your heart—Frankie didn’t deserve to experience a loss like that
so young, no one deserves that, and Louis can’t even fathom how she
could possibly be coping with it. “I’m so s-sorry…I…”
“I don’t w-want that for you…” Frankie tears up fervently, holding

tight to Louis’ hand. “The love of your life is out there waiting for you,
Louis…he’s w-waiting for you. You still can tell him you l-love him,
don’t w-waste that. P-Please don’t waste it...” She begs him adamantly
through her growing tears and Louis can physically feel how much she
cares, only further triggering his stinging tear ducts. “I don’t know you
personally Louis—I don’t know what exactly you’ve been
through…or what Harry has been through, b-but what I do know is
that nothing is that big that it should keep you apart forever…not if
you love each other as strongly as you clearly do. He’s your family, Lou.
They both are. Harry and Avery are your family. You need them. And
it's because you need them so much that you shouldn't waste any more
time.”
Louis gives up on trying to hold his own burning tears back anymore,
allowing the fresh saltwater to finally rage freely down his cheeks. Part
of him knows that what she is saying is undoubtedly true, but he can’t
bring himself to fully accept it, feeling like a prisoner chained against
his own free will, bound to trepidations that persistently outnumber
him. He begins to shake his head, sniffling away the overwhelming
emotions. “B-But I…I could still l-lose them…there’s always a c-
chance that I could lose them completely a-and…and I don’t know if
I can h-handle that…not…not a-again…”
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It’s that same unquieted fear, the one he never fails to come back to
no matter what he does, despite how hard he tries or even how often
he wishes. It’s there, always, always there, lurking in the shadows of his
past, grappled onto his life, infecting him like a poison without a cure,
parasitic in the way it drains his every hope and corrupts his thought
process. It is the all-consuming fear of losing everything once he has
it, once he dares let his guard down.
Frankie tilts her head to him empathetically and there’s so much gentle
understanding behind her heartfelt, green eyes. She cups one hand to
the side of his face in comfort and when she speaks again, her voice is
so caring and soft. “You’ve lost people before, people you loved
dearly, and I get that…I know how it changes you. It’s so hard to live
on without them and it makes it almost impossible to let anyone else
in again because the fear of losing them is always there.” She takes the
words right out of Louis’ mouth, almost as though she has direct
access to his thoughts. “But maybe that’s the tragic beauty of it, Lou.
The minute you realize all the things you have is the minute you see all
you stand to lose. But you can’t be afraid of it…if you give in to those
fears, then you’ve already lost.”
The tears that once rolled silently down his cheeks, are having an
increasingly greater effect over him and Louis feels so much at once,
far too much at once. So much that he can’t even begin to control how
he expresses it, pouring out of him freely.
“When my husband first got sick…he kept repeating this famous, old
quote that he read somewhere from some English poet, and he would
go on and on about how it was the truest thing he’d ever read. ‘It is
better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all’. I hated it…I fucking
hated that quote so much…I told him it was cliché and rooted in pure
fucking ignorance, but it was only after he died that I realized how true
it really was…” Frankie recounts, breathing deeply as she speaks of
her late husband. “If I could go back with every knowledge that my b-
best friend would die before our first child was even born…I’d s-still
love him just as much and…I’d still treasure e-every last second we
had left together no matter how long it lasted. The length of love
doesn’t determine its value…long or short, it’s never in vain—not if
793
you loved with everything you had, with e-everything you are. The time
you have together is precious and it’s worth it—every single moment
together is a-always so worth it. Even if it was the very last
together…it’s worth it…”
“Things happen. Bad, ugly—fucking horrific things happen all the
time no matter how hard we try to avoid them. You’ve seen it, I’ve
seen it…we’ve both lived it. But please don’t let things happen without
telling the people you love how much they really mean to you. Don’t
wait till it’s too late and don’t live your whole life in fear of the worst
happening. Just…live, Louis.” Frankie pleads, still holding a hand to
his teary face as she stares right into his blue eyes. “There’s always
going to be what if’s in life—always, but don’t let them hold you captive
anymore. Because life is far too short and far too beautiful to wait and
let it all pass you by, wishing you’d done it all differently. Live now,
love now, see all the good there is in life while you can still enjoy it.”
Losing his family at such a young age forced Louis to grow up faster.
It forced him into living his life unattached, uncommitted. It allowed
him to be numb and apathetic, the sheer idea of being hurt like that
again easily controlling the vast majority of his actions, denying anyone
complete access to his heart.
But it’s no way to live. Louis knows it’s not—because if he constantly

tries to protect himself from getting hurt, tries to spare his heart from
breaking any further, he will always be left empty. He will always be
looking and searching for something to fill that gaping void, patch that
permanent hole in his heart. A hole that he knows Harry and Avery
fill.
His life is better with them in it—with Avery’s bright, brave spirit and
Harry’s sweet, encompassing gentleness. Regardless of the past and all
that comes entangled with it, Louis’ life is so much better with the
people he loves in it.
Frankie is saying all this to him from such a real place, a place of
painfilled experience. Frankie has lived the nightmare Louis fears more
than anything and yet she would still go through it all again. She would
experience all the sorrow, she would take the hurt and the loss, and
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the pain for love. A love that made every terrifying thing worth it and
still stands the test of time long after the pain.
Love is worth the uncertainty, it’s worth the risk and the fear, the ups
and the downs. It’s worth it all.
And it clicks together for him, like finally seeing for the very first time;
everything put into perspective so simply by someone who was a
complete stranger to him twenty-four hours ago. The peace he
couldn’t seem to find, the clarity he struggled to rectify, the answer to
a question he couldn’t even formulate into words.
Louis leans in suddenly and envelopes Frankie into a hug, a warm,

solid hug, letting his body depress against her. His eyes have fallen
closed, lingering trails of water coating his face as he embraces her.
“Frankie, thank you...” He whispers in all sincerity through a rush of
exhaled breath.
She’s still weak from the surgery, but she hugs him back as best she
can, both arms coming up to encircle around his back. “No,
Lou...thank you.”
There’s no such thing as coincidences, Louis believes that to be

unendingly true. It can’t be chance that brought them together when
they both needed it most, it can’t be accidental that their paths
intertwined in such astoundingly personal ways, reminding each other
of the people they love most. And it’s so strange how life sometimes
brings people along unpredictably, unassumingly—dropping in when
least expected only to make a huge, lifelong impact.
Louis is still holding Frankie close, feeling so incredibly appreciative

of her. “I don’t know why I met you like I did…and I may never know,
but I’ll never, ever forget you…”
“I’d say I got pretty lucky. Of all the people that could have found me,
I got a fucking neurosurgeon. And a good one at that.” Frankie teases
lightly. “Still a smartass though.”
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Louis’ lips upturn into a slow smile as he laughs, rubbing at his watery
eyes. And he feels so much lighter than he did yesterday, it’s an odd
sensation, but in the newfound airiness he feels determined, suddenly
antsy to get back to his family and begin moving forward with his life.
He glances down at his watch, before returning his gaze back to
Frankie curiously. “Fancy a trip to Seattle?”
Frankie looks taken aback, pulling her eyebrows together.

“What? Now?”
“Well, I have to get back and I can’t just leave you here with these
people—erm, no offense to them.” Louis glances over his shoulder,
hoping none of the staff overheard him outside of the room. “I’m
going to call for a helicopter from my hospital to come rescue you and
my godson from this backwards place.”
“Wow, you are important over there aren’t you?” Frankie smirks at
him.
“Oh hush.” Louis waves her off, smiling. “You’re my patient and
you’ve just had a major brain surgery, I have to monitor you. God
knows, no one here is going to do it.”
Frankie laughs, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Are you done

roasting the fuck out of them? Jesus.”
“No, I’m not, they almost let you die, Frankie! It was very traumatic
for me!” Louis insists adamantly. “We are leaving.”
“Ok, but that means I get to meet Harry, right?” Frankie beams,
wiggling her eyebrows excitedly. “And Avery!”
“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah. What can I say, I’m a sucker for a happy ending.” Frankie
shrugs slightly, giving him a knowing look. “Besides, someone has to
make sure you don’t fuck everything up.”
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||☤||
Louis calls SSMC and arranges for a helicopter to transfer Frankie and
baby Louis to Seattle, accompanied by a neuro fellow under his
department to monitor them on the way. He’d ride with her himself,
if it wasn’t for Benedict. That dog has already had far too much
excitement for his little heart to handle at one time, and he would
probably do better if they drove back.
Although, Louis still has half a mind to just leave his car in Oregon
and hop onto the helicopter with Benny anyway just to get back to
Seattle faster. He’s nearly exploding with all things he needs to get off
of his chest and tell Harry. It’s funny, or maybe not so funny, that he’s
been within talking distance of Harry for weeks not saying a single
thing, but now, when he’s miles away he wants to scream everything
at once.
Louis can’t waste any more time—too much time has already been
eaten up and if he has been reminded of anything on this unexpected
trip, it’s that life is truly precious, and it shouldn’t be taken for granted
or squandered. So, Louis drives through the night, using the time to
really organize his thoughts and feelings into the words he wants to
finally tell Harry.
Fuck, but he’s so hopelessly anxious, nervous energy ricocheting

around inside as he imagines what Harry might say or what’s to come
next. There’s excitement mixed in with the nerves, but still he’s
worried as all get out. It’s not going to be easy and it may take him
more than one try to get it right, but Louis is not going to let fear keep
him away from the people he loves any longer.
Once he reaches Seattle, he quickly stops by his house to drop

Benedict off, before heading straight to the hospital where he knows
he’ll find Harry and Avery. He takes the quickest route to Avery’s
room, not stopping for anything or anyone.
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The second Avery notices Louis at her door, her smile grows as wide
and bright as ever, practically stretching from ear to ear. “Louis!”
“Aves.” Louis whispers, unable to hold back his full smile as his heart
flutters at the sight of her, alive and awake and so incredibly beautiful.
He hurries into the room, wasting no time in wrapping her right into
his open arms for the warmest hug. “Hi little love. I’ve missed you so
much, my darling.”
“I missed you too.” Avery squeezes him as tightly as her weak

recovering arms can manage, eyes closed as she nuzzles her face to his
chest. The two of them stay that way for a while, content to be
surrounded in each other’s embrace. Eventually she pulls back and
looks up at him with a slight pout on her face. “You weren’t here when
I woke up like you promised.”
“I know, Aves. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Louis apologizes regretfully,

tracing the side of her face with his thumb. “I just had a lot on my
mind that I had to sort out and I know that’s no excuse, but I really
am sorry. I should have been here for you, love. Will you find it in your
heart to forgive me?”
Avery nods slowly in understanding, never able to stay mad at him for
very long. “Did you figure it out? Your thoughts, I mean.”
Louis studies her sweet face, taking in every last detail that he almost
forced himself to live without. From the light freckles cutely dusting
her nose, to the deep crescents folded into her cheeks that make her
look so much like her beautiful mother, the stunning gold flecks that
glimmer in the syrupy honey of her brilliantly colored eyes. He could
never dream of living without her, of letting another second pass him
by without being there to watch her grow up, to be that other parent
she can always turn to, the parent he was always meant to be.
“Yeah, I think I did...” Louis answers after a beat, smiling softly at his
favorite girl.
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“Good.” Avery nods once succinctly, sitting up a bit more in her bed.
“Now get out.”
“What?” Louis wonders in complete surprise, eyebrows shooting up.
“Get out, Louis!” Avery demands again, tapping his thigh lightly to
push him along. “I don’t want to see you until you tell my Daddy that
you love him. Enough is enough.”
“Avery Styles.” Louis gasps amidst his amused laughter, smiling fondly
at her.
“I’m serious!” Avery frowns adorably, getting that same crease in her
brow that Harry gets when he’s frustrated. “Get out of my room and
go find him!” And when Louis doesn’t immediately move, she deepens
her frown even more. “Right now! Right now!”
“Alright, alright! I’m going.” Louis holds his hands up in defeat and
slides off the bed. “I just wanted to stop and check up on my girl
because I missed her so much, but it seems I’m apparently not
welcome.”
“Not right now, you’re not.” Avery states defiantly. “We can hang out
later, this is more important. Now go please!”
Louis leans down to kiss the top of her head goodbye, but Avery even
rushes him through that, making a shooing motion with her hands and
practically pushing him away from her bed. Louis obliges with another
fond smile, blowing her a kiss from the doorway before heading down
the corridor. But it soon dawns on him that he forgot something; and
with a quick run to his car, Louis is back at Avery’s door in under ten
minutes.
“No! Why are you back?” Avery pouts, crossing her hands over her
chest. “I thought I was very clear.”
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“Oh, you were.” Louis nods with amusement. “It’s just that you kicked
me out so fast I forgot to give this back to you.” He pulls the long-lost
walrus from behind his back to surprise her.
Avery’s practiced frown breaks completely at the sight of her favorite

plush walrus, excitement reframing her features. She hugs the stuffed
animal right to her chest, smiling up at Louis thankfully. “Lemon! You
found him! Where was he?”
“Apparently in my car the whole time.”
Avery appears happy for about three more seconds before she schools
her face back into a frown that she thinks is stern and convincing. “It
probably could have waited but…I’ll allow it.” She decides with an
adorable huff. “Now leave.”
“Geez, tough crowd.” Louis sighs dramatically, heading back towards

the door. “You really want to get rid of me, don’t you?”
“Yes! Don’t come back if my Daddy’s not with you.” Avery calls
behind him.
But not even a minute later, Louis is right back in her room, already
giggling to himself because he knows that he’s about to be scolded by
a nine-year-old yet again.
“Louis!” Avery hisses at him, clearly growing more frustrated.
“One more thing, I swear!” Louis defends, trying to mask his laughter.
“What is it this time?” Avery sighs, completely exasperated with him

but it’s so cute, Louis almost wants to keep bothering her.
Louis smiles widely as he comes in closer. He kneels down by her bed,

so they’re at eye level with each other before he continues. “I just
wanted to tell you that you are everything and more to me. You’re the
light of my life and I don’t think you’ll ever really know how happy
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you make me, but I love you, Aves.” He tells her earnestly, kissing her
forehead. “I love you so much, sweetheart and I couldn’t wait any
longer to tell you that.”
Avery throws her short, little arms around his neck, pulling him in for
a hug and Louis can feel her smile against his neck, like it’s all she ever
wanted to hear him say. “I love you too, Louis. So, so much.”
Hearing her whisper her love back to him, sounding so unequivocally

enthusiastic about how she feels, touches Louis’ inner soul. His heart
could truly explode, not nearly enough space in his ribcage to contain
all the love he has just for her.
“Now go say it again, but not to me this time.” Avery encourages, arms
still draped around his neck.
Louis nods in complete and total agreeance, pressing one more kiss to
her temple before he stands to his feet and starts to leave. But it’s
hardly two seconds later when Louis returns once again to her room,
grinning sheepishly in the doorway.
“Again!?” Avery huffs in exasperation, throwing her hands up. “I love

you Louis, really! I do! But I need you to go!”
Louis chuckles, shrugging his shoulders apologetically. “Ok, ok I’m

sorry, I’m leaving for real this time! I promise! But um…do you
happen to know where your dad is exactly? Could you maybe point
me in the right direction?”
Avery purses her lips at him, sighing to herself with nothing, but
affection in her gaze. “He went to get us gelato.”
“For breakfast? It’s only five in the morning.”

Avery shrugs, a bit of mischievousness in her eye. “I really,
really, reaallly wanted it and it’s open right now, so he promised he’d
go out and get it for me because I begged him.”
801
It’s only open because of its prime location by the hospital; the owners
keenly aware that the cravings of medical professionals as well as
patients have no time constraints. Even Louis can admit that he’s been
a time or two with Zayn at two A.M. after a late surgery.
Louis shakes his head at her, rolling his eyes dotingly. “And how was
I ever supposed to know that’s where he went, Aves?”
“Well I don’t know, Louis.” Avery shrugs again, biting back a small
laugh. “I thought you’d just bump into him or something like in the
movies.”
“You’re a silly, silly girl.”
“Maybe so, but you love me anyway.”
“I do...” Louis’ smile only grows on his face, eyes crinkling. “I love
you.”
“And I love you too. Now leave!” Avery urges again, pointing towards
the door.
Louis can’t help but laugh to himself, starting to turn away and pausing
midway. “Wait, how do I look?” He does a little spin just for her. The
suit may not have been planned, but he still needs the complete outfit
approval of his little opinionated stylist.
She surprisingly doesn’t rush him away this time, instead waving Louis
closer with the beckoning of her hand. Louis walks across the room to
her and she reaches up to straighten out his apparently crooked tie.
She flattens her hands by the lapels of his jacket and leans up to sweetly
kiss his cheek. “Perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Avery nods, both of her dimples peeking at her cheeks.

“Good luck, Louis.”
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This time when Louis leaves, he doesn’t come back a few minutes later,
instead making his way down to the main level floor in search of Harry.
He’s got butterflies in his stomach, nerves bubbling up inside him, but
at the same time Louis has never felt more determined in his life. He
feels ready.
He runs out of the sliding hospital doors in a rush, turning his head
right then left as he tries to remember which way that little gelato place
is from this side of the hospital. He hasn’t been in a while and it’s hard
to think back and remember details like that when all he can focus on
is Harry, having a one-track mind. Louis choses to go right in a snap
decision, taking off down the courtyard and avoiding the occasional
pedestrian or nurse pushing a patient in a wheelchair.
And maybe it’s a bit serendipitous, if not ironic, that Louis does
actually bump right into Harry as Avery envisaged he would, colliding
with each other at the blind turning of a corner.
“Oh, shit—” Harry startles, dropping the tub of light pink gelato
ceremoniously to the concrete at his feet. He hasn’t even looked up
yet, seeming a bit flustered as he slides a hand through his windswept
curls, mumbling to himself under his breath about how he’ll have to
go back to the shop.
“Harry...” Louis slowly exhales, reaching out to steady Harry

instinctively.
Harry’s head snaps up, clearly recognizing the sound of Louis’ voice
and when their eyes meet, Harry visibly deflates with heavy relief,
looking as though he can finally begin to breathe freely again, and
Louis feels exactly the same way. He doesn’t even say anything,
moving right in to surround himself around Louis completely, no
longer giving a fuck about the spilled gelato.
Louis relaxes into the embrace, burying his head to Harry’s neck only
to be calmed by the distinctive smell of his saccharinely scented skin.
He could stay just like this forever and be perfectly content,
wonderfully at ease.
803
“Louis, you’re ok—well—are you ok?” Harry abruptly pulls back and
searches Louis’ eyes in question, the frequency of his voice bathed in
uneasiness. “I thought something happened to you—I’ve been so
worried about you but I…I didn’t want to suffocate you or pressure
you or I don’t know—I mean I—”
“I’m sorry, H, I’m sorry.” Louis rushes to say before anything else. “I
shouldn’t have run off like that…without saying anything,
I’m…I…I’m sorry…”
Harry shakes his head gently, a curl flopping down over his face. “It’s
alright, I’m just glad you’re ok...” He gradually unwraps his arms from
around Louis, seeming to suddenly be aware of how tightly he was
holding him. “Where did you go? Niall said you were speaking at a
conference…but he didn’t know if you went or not…”
Louis doesn’t even know where to start; it’s unbelievable how much
he’s experienced since he decided to go on his little adventure. “I
uh…well…I delivered a baby? In the back of my car? Yeah…there
was a…um…car accident and I was there? I don’t know why I was
there really, but I was and…god, it happened in the middle of nowhere
and the girl—Frankie, she…I don’t know—she looked kinda like you?
And I guess I reminded her of her husband…it was really fucking
strange, but…I…I don’t know…the whole thing just kinda woke me
up, I guess? Cuz I was…well—I was in a place? You know? Just like a
really dark and confusing place…trying to understand myself and what
I want…but…” Louis shakes his head at a loss, still a bit confused and
frazzled by the whole experience. “But out there I…I delivered a baby?
A baby? And I know I’m not making any sense—I know and I’m
sorry—but I’m uh…I’m trying my best so bear with me please...”
Harry stands patiently with a gentle expression. If he’s confused by the

rambled words coming out of Louis’ mouth, he doesn’t at all show it,
eyes remaining nothing but soft.
Louis briefly touches his own cheek only to find that it’s already wet.
“Oh fuck—god and now I’m crying—it’s a thing I do now. I cry. I cry,
and I cry, and I cry…it’s like a whole new me.” Louis swipes at his eyes,
804
sniffling as he shakes his head to move on. “But whatever, just ignore
that—anyway I’ve been thinking…probably a bit too much actually,
but I uh I realized a lot of things…like about you and about um me—
us. And there’s so much I need to tell you, so much I want to say, and
I haven’t and ugh—I’m rambling now and I’m not making any
sense…” He groans, growing more and more upset with himself,
feeling his speech start to pick up its pace, an awful habit he has when
he’s nervous. “I’m shit at this. Just right fucking shit. I practiced this
all in the car, you know? Yeah… the whole drive back from Oregon.
I thought about everything I wanted to say to you and I went over it
out loud and in my mind—the right words, the perfect words are
somewhere in my head and now I’m fucking it up. Fuck…”
Harry gazes at him, tilting his head supportively. “It’s ok Lou, take
your time. We have time—”
“But that’s just it! What if we don’t have time, Harry!” Louis panics,
voice picking up once again in both speed and frequency. “What if
we’ve wasted all of our time playing stupid games? Letting fear and
uncertainty keep us apart? And…and now! It’s not promised! Life is
not promised! And it’s not enough time! It’s not! It’ll never be enough
time with you!”
“Louis, stop. Stop, it’s ok.” Harry tenderly touches his palm to Louis’
cheek to calm him back down. “Just talk to me, babe. What are you
saying?”
Louis gazes at Harry openly and the charge between them grows,
passion flooding into his bones like blood to his veins. His chest is
heaving every time he breathes, rising and falling at a steadily hastening
rate and god, he feels so much for the man standing before him. This
beautiful, beautiful man—beautiful like Louis has never seen, like he
could have never imagined. Louis looks into the gorgeous green of
Harry’s gentle eyes and lets whatever is left of his mighty walls cave in,
allowing his whole heart to become completely exposed.
“I want to be yours.” Louis whispers earnestly in the still wind, like the
very first words of a lifelong love letter. “And I want you to be mine.”
805
Harry blinks back at him in silent earnest, seeming to be almost
holding his breath.
“I want to have brunch together on Saturdays because you’re right,

Sundays are seriously far too cliché.” Louis starts, lips slowly spreading
into a smile. “And I want to randomly throw all of our shit in a car and
go on a spontaneous trip to god knows where for no reason at all—
just because we can and we want to.”
Harry’s lips part as he gasps quietly, a wave of emotions already

breaking through his face, seeming absolutely stunned by the familiar
sentiments coming out of Louis’ mouth.
“I want a whole collection of weird birthday traditions that maybe

don’t make sense to the rest of the world, but make perfect sense to
us, so fuck the rest of the world.” Louis continues, keeping his eyes
trained only on Harry. “And I want to dance in the moonlight and
have the world just be ours for the night. I want to waste hours at a
time in bed together doing absolutely nothing but those silly crossword
puzzles from the Sunday paper while drinking coffee and eating eggs
on toast. I want to take long, late night drives with you and talk all
night while we watch the sun rise and I then I want to go right back
out in the evening and watch the sun set while holding your hand. I
want huge, ridiculously over the top Christmases with all the
trimmings and traditions—so festive that it’s literally shooting out of
our asses.” Louis grins knowingly and Harry let’s out a watery laugh,
biting his lip as tears pour down his cheeks.
Louis takes another step closer to Harry, reciting more things from
Harry’s Someday List that he long ago committed to memory. “I want
to keep dating even when we’ve been together and married for decades
because there is always something new I can learn about you. I want
to fall more and more in love with you each and every day.” He
declares, speaking straight from his heart. “And I want kids, lots and
lots of kids—our kids that we love to death and embarrass all the time.
I want a big family and a house that never feels empty because it’s filled
with so much love and the sound of tiny feet running around
everywhere. I want photo album after photo album of us and our
806
family and our beautiful life together and I want to be able to look
back on all of it and smile when we are old and grey and senile and can
barely see straight anymore.” He describes, unable to keep the wet,
emotional smile from his face as he says it. “I…I want a life with you,
Harry.”
“Oh L-Louis…” Harry whispers through his heavy tears, mouth held
open in breathless wonderment. He shakes his head incredulously as
he closes the last bit of space separating them. “All these years and you
never forgot a single thing.”
“I could never forget because I want it all—every single last thing on

that list and anything else you can think of. I’ve wanted to give all that
to you since the very first time you told me on that day we spent in
our meadow. I hate that it took me so long to say it, but I want it and
I want it with you—only you. I want to be your love.” Louis confesses
from the very core of his trembling heart, tears matching the ones on
Harry’s face. “All I want is a full life with you and I’ve been so afraid
to admit that up until now b-because I didn’t think it could ever really
happen…but I…I w-want it, Harry…I want it so m-much. Even
though part of me is still a-afraid, I want it more than I want a-anything
else.”
Harry cups both of his hands gently to Louis’ cheeks, thumbing at the
saltwater trails that continue to flow down his face. “Why are you
afraid, Lou?”
“I think I’m j-just…I don’t know—I’m afraid sometimes that I…I

love you too much. As fucking stupid as that sounds. I look at you and
I…I just love you and it fucking t-terrifies me. I would do anything for
you and it scares the living shit out of me because i-if there is one
constant in my life it’s that I can never k-keep anything that I love—I
always end up l-losing them. And if…if I love you t-too much and I
let you in completely only to l-lose you…I..I was a-afraid of what
might h-happen.” Louis cries, as that feeling comes over him again,
the same feeling he felt on the roof the other day. But he pushes it
aside, focusing on the tenderness in Harry’s eyes and the feel of his
soft hands to his face, finding so much newfound strength in it. “But
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I realized—or I’m s-starting to realize that I also love you too much to
ignore it a-anymore. To pass off my f-feelings for you, to n-not be with
you…to not h-have you…to stay s-stuck in the p-past…to not f-
forgive you…to p-pretend that I’m over you—I l-love you too much
to give up on the chance to have t-that life with you…”
“And I’ve l-learned to keep people at an arm’s distance, you know? I
p-push people away to protect myself a-and I tell myself that…t-that
I can live w-without them—that I’ll be f-fine on my own b-but…but
with y-you...I—the thought of pushing you a-away h-hurts so much
m-more…and I…I fucking l-love you too much…” Louis sobs openly,
but it feels so good to get it off his chest, it feels cathartic to finally
release all the emotions he has kept locked inside, to no longer hide
away from them. “I t-told you that you make me f-fall apart…but really
I d-don’t mind falling a-apart if you’re there to put me back t-together.
Because…I…I…” His voice breaks right down the middle as
continuous tears pull harshly at his eyes, shoulders shaking against the
magnitude of his cries. “I l-love you too much, Harry...” He whispers
with raw emotion, heart lying open and vulnerable. He shakes his head
twice, wiping his eyes as he looks up and scuffs a bit at himself. “God,
even hearing that—it sounds so s-stupid to say…”
“Oh baby, it’s not stupid, it’s not…I get it…” Harry whispers softly,
still tracing the sides of his face as he shakes his head. He lovingly
strokes away the tears on Louis’ wet cheeks, drying his eyes. “I get it
because I love you just as much, Louis. I swear that I do—I love you
and I’m so terrified of ever having to live without you. You don’t know
how much I need you...”
Harry slowly leans in to gently press his lips against Louis’, the initial
feeling even more kinetic than the very first time. There’s a familiarity
in the way they complement each other so perfectly, something so
effortless and easy about how natural their lips slot together. It’s
overwhelming in the softest of ways, in the way Harry tilts his jaw just
so or in the way his tongue moves so smoothly against Louis’, gliding
with purpose and practiced ease.
Louis can’t remember a time when a kiss has ever inspired him so. It’s
a revelation, the revitalizing taste of everything that is Harry surrounding
his every sense in a swirl of infinite colors like a kaleidoscope dream.
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And Louis is lost to it, completely letting himself go only to find parts
he didn’t know had been adrift. Like realizing he’s been downing this
entire time, only to be saved by taking in his first breath above water,
finally coming up for much needed air.
“Damn that pager.” Harry groans breathlessly as they break apart. His
lips are already puffed pink and Louis can hardly take his eyes off of
them. He was so ridiculously lost that he didn’t even register the sound
of his pager or feel it vibrate in his pocket.
Louis blinks as he snaps back to reality, tearing his eyes away from
Harry’s perfect lips to look down at the ringer. He’s not even on-call
right now so it’s either an emergency in his department or nothing
direly important that someone else can handle. “It um…it does save
lives, you know.”
“I feel kind of selfish about saying this, but I really don’t care right
now.” Harry doesn’t even give Louis a chance to really look at the page
before kissing him again, powerless to control himself.
“You should be ashamed...” Louis mumbles to his lips, unable to pull

himself away either. Harry’s mouth is a drug, sweet like candy and oh,
so addictive. A single taste isn’t nearly enough, it only makes him crave
more and more and more. “…Someone needs me more than you right
now...”
“That’s impossible.” Harry whispers before claiming Louis’ lips again

as though he needs them to breathe. The way he kisses Louis is
unprecedented and Louis doesn’t want to feel anything else. Only this,
for as long as he lives, only this, only him.
Louis pulls back to dig around in his back pocket for his keys. He slips
a house key from the loop and places it inside Harry’s warm palm,
holding his hand over it for a moment. “Go back to mine and wait for
me.”
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“I’ve already got another key.” Harry smiles, biting his flushed lower
lip as he looks down at his hand with a twinge of nostalgia.
Louis closes Harry’s hand around the key before separating from him.
He slowly begins to walk backwards, smiling stupidly at Harry the
whole time, a giddiness building up inside him that he’s never felt
before. “Wait for me.”
“Yeah…” Harry nods slowly with an equally dumb smile on his face
as he gazes on in longing and excitement at Louis. The energy between
them is nothing but electrifying, the thrum that always lies latent under
their skin, the subtle humming of dormant sparks, buzzing openly
around them.
But Harry still can’t seem to control himself, unexpectedly closing the
gap between them and pulling Louis back in for another hot kiss. Louis
melts right into him, hands coming up to cup Harry’s face. Every time
their lips connect it’s even more intoxicating, the sensation is new and
exciting, but still edging on familiar and comfortable, like coming
home.
“Hurry.” Harry murmurs breathlessly against his lips, desperation

thickly covering his already deep voice. And the look in his eyes when
he pulls back sends a fresh wave of unexpected shivers down Louis’
spine.
With his hands still resting on the sides of Harry’s face, Louis pulls
Harry’s lips to his several times in quick succession; each short, but
passionate kiss jolting his senses individually. The very last thing Louis
wants to do right now is separate himself from Harry, the magnetic
pull towards him is stronger than anything he could ever begin to
explain or even understand.
But the warm memory of this cherished moment and the promise of
better ones still to come is what gets Louis to finally let Harry go and
begin walking backwards once again towards the medical center.
They’re both sporting the same dopey grin, so helplessly enthralled by
each other.
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“Wait for me, H…” Louis repeats again for the third time, only
because his brain can’t possible think of anything else to say; head so
high in the clouds.
“What else am I going to fucking do?” Harry smiles broadly, all deep
dimples and windblown curls and gorgeous teeth and Louis doesn’t
even realize he’s stopped walking altogether just to look at him, taking
in just how beautiful he really is. But Louis is snapped out of his trance
by Harry impatiently shooing him away, a lot like another Styles he
knows.
“Faster Louis, go faster!” Harry urges in an almost frustrated tone.

Sexually frustrated most likely, after all, it is nearly ten years in the
making.
“Ok, ok!” Louis laughs a little, tugging his bottom lip through his teeth.
“I can’t wait forever—I mean I can, of course I can, but I’d really
rather not.” Harry sighs in lustful yearning, shameless eyes rooming
over Louis in a way that definitely wasn’t meant to be done in public.
“God, Louis…that suit…” He whines in desperation, he actually
fucking whines and Louis can hardly take it, feeling utterly weak and
powerless. “Please go before I can’t let you go anymore…I want you
right now…”
And Louis swears to all the surgical gods that he is only one second
from saying fuck it to all his medical responsibilities and letting his
pager be damned to hell, when that same pager begins to sound off
again, indicating that maybe it is actually an emergency of some sorts
that needs his immediate attention. Or it could be Frankie, now that
he thinks about it and if it is, then he really does need to go.
“I’ll be quick, I promise.” Louis calls as he begins jogging backwards,

forcing his legs to move against their will away from Harry.
“Come home to me as fast as you can.”
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CHAPTER 18
like only you can.
||✚||
“Sorry I took so long, Munchie.” Harry apologizes as soon as he walks

into her hospital room, carrying a fresh tub of strawberry gelato. “I
accidently dropped your gelato and I had to go back and—”
“Did he tell you?!” Avery bursts, hazel eyes opened wide with urgency
as she sits all the way up in her bed.
Harry frowns, wheeling the tray table towards the bed before sitting
down on the edge near her. “Did who tell me what?”
“Louis!”
“Louis what?”
“Did Louis tell you!?” Avery practically screams at him.
“Tell me what?” Harry plays dumb again, opening the lid of the gelato
container and sticking two spoons in it. “Are you gonna make me eat
all this by myself? I worked so hard to get it for you, Avie.”
“Daddy!” Avery throws her head back in absolute frustration and it

makes Harry’s heart full because she looks exactly like her mother
when she scrunches up her features like that. It reminds Harry of all
the many times he would purposely annoy his sister and all the times
she would react just as Avery is now.
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“Avery!” Harry mimics back, copying her disgruntled face, trying not
to let his lips morph into a smile.
“Did Louis tell you he loves you!” Avery emphasizes with raised
eyebrows and adorably bugged out eyes.
Harry holds his face frozen for several moments, just staring back into
Avery’s eyes as stoically as he can manage. But not only is Avery
adorable, she’s also quite the stare down master and before he knows
it, a smile slowly creeps across his face.
His smile seems to be all the confirmation Avery needs and she breaks
out into a smile of her own, clapping her hands together in delight.
“He did!”
She’s far more excited about this than Harry expected her to be and
he has no idea how she always seems to be two steps ahead of him.
“How did you know he was going to tell me that?”
“Because I know things.” Avery answers obviously. She reaches for

one of the spoons, scooping out a big pink chunk before gasping with
what must be an idea of hers. “You should go make him dinner!”
“I should?”
“Yes, Daddy yes. That’s what any good boyfriend would do.”
“But Louis isn’t my boyfriend. Yet.” Harry adds, digging his own
spoon deeper into the creamy gelato.
“Maybe he would be if you made him dinner.” Avery sasses. “Make it

really, really, reaaalllyy nice and surprise him. He’ll love it.”
“You think so?” Harry considers.
“Mhmm, I know so.” Avery nods confidently.
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Harry grins warmly. “And how’s that, Avie?”
“Because I know things, Daddy. I told you.” Avery tilts her chin
up. “I’m grown.”
“Oh Avery, my sweet little girl, you’re so silly.” Harry gently pecks her
nose.
She points her spoon at him. “I’m also right.”
Harry narrows his eyes, still grinning. “Alright missy, since you
know everything, what should I make for him then?”
“Something impressive.”
“Impressive like what? Spaghetti?”
“Spaghetti is the opposite of impressive, Daddy.” Avery turns her nose

up disapprovingly. “It’s basic. I can make spaghetti and I’m in
2nd grade.”
Harry laughs. “But I love your spaghetti.”
“This isn’t about me! If I made Louis spaghetti, it’d be impressive. If

you did it, it’d be lame.” She explains knowledgably all while sucking
on her spoon.
“I see.” Harry nods, smiling. “Well help me then Avery! What should
I make?”
“Something that sounds really super fancy.” Avery describes slowly,

still thinking to herself. “Something that when you tell him what you
made, Louis will be like…ooh?” She raises an eyebrow and sounds
distinctly similar to Louis in an odd way.
Harry laughs a bit, completely amused. “Is that how he’ll sound? Ooh?”
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“Exactly like that.” Avery nods certainly in all seriousness. “And that’s
how you’ll know you’ve won him over.”
He laughs once again, shaking his head fondly at his daughter’s advice.
“I really don’t know what to do with sometimes, silly girl.”
||☤||
Louis’ page turns out to be a rupturing aneurysm in a patient just

emitted into the E.R. and he happened to be the only neurosurgeon
on grounds not currently busy with other patients. And even though
clipping aneurysms is probably his least favorite surgery to perform,
Louis goes through the whole procedure with a giddy grin behind his
mask and a steady, excited thrum butterflying in his stomach.
Truthfully, Louis can’t recall the last time he was this genuinely excited
about someone, about all the possibilities that could potentially come
next for them. Everything is basically suspended in limbo and it’s all
new and unknown and even though it’s a bit of a daunting realization,
Louis still can’t help but be even more anticipative. All he wants to do
is rush straight home, but unfortunately, he still has a few
responsibilities to attend to first.
After the surgery, Louis quickly rounds on the rest of his patients,
swinging by Frankie’s room last to do a quick assessment of her post-
op progress and make sure she’s settling in alright. He finds her asleep,
which isn’t at all surprising considering that she is not only recovering
from surgery, but she also just gave birth only days ago.
Which leads Louis to his last stop, down at the NICU to check on his
newborn godson. He peeks his head through the archway that leads to
the silent, dimly lit space, filled with little premature babies. The only
sound is the ventilating machines around them whirling and beeping
methodically.
Niall is sat on a wheeled stool, draped in a soft pink gown as he

monitors his infant patients. When he lifts his head and notices Louis
815
approaching, he jumps right to his feet in surprise, a million questions
on his lips. “Louis, what are you doing here? When did you get back?
Where were you? I was so worried—”
“Shh.” Louis hushes, trying to honor the sanctity of the NICU’s

silence and peace. He walks passed Niall towards the clear incubator
that holds the tiny, sleeping little boy that Louis helped bring into the
world.
Niall follows in confusion, watching Louis closely. “Where have you

been? Were you at the conference this whole time?”
“Mm…uh…I’ll tell you later.” Louis whispers distractedly, still in a

state of transfixed awe over the baby. “Look at how cute my godson
is.”
“Your what?!” Niall gasps in genuine surprise.
“Shh!” Louis silences again. “You’re too loud.”
“Louis, where the hell did you get a godson? Whose baby is
that? Louis? Where have you been?”
“It’s a really long story, I’ll tell you everything later I promise.” Louis
says, turning towards him fully. “Hey, are you on-call tonight?”
“Yeah…” Niall nods, expression still riddled in absolute bewilderment

as he begins logging back in to his tablet. “Why?”
“Could you monitor Avery for me another night? And also sit with
her a bit if she wakes up or gets bored or lonely or—”
“Lonely? Why, where’s Harry?” Niall’s frown deepens, and he glances

up briefly in question. “Is he going to L.A. again for work or
something?”
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“Erm…not exactly…” Louis shrugs offhandedly, backing away
toward the door.
“Tommo, are you finally getting some?” Niall jokes halfheartedly, not
even bothering to look up from his chart this time.
“U-Uh…mmm...” Louis stutters in a flustered kind of way, feeling his

cheeks uncontrollably flush. “Uh noo—I d-don’t know um? We
haven’t…I haven’t—”
“What the fuck!” Niall’s jaw drops, head snapping up to look at Louis’
guilty face. “Oh, no way! Are you kidding me? What happened!? Did
you talk to him! Did you tell him you’re in love with him? Oh my god,
you did! I need details—I need—”
“Shut up!” Louis hushes, slapping a hand over Niall’s loud mouth as
he looks around the NICU. A few nurses narrow their eyes at them
oddly for making such a ruckus in what should be a tranquil space.
“There are innocent little babies sleeping and healing.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Niall whisper shouts, leaning in closer, hardly
containing his giddiness. “But! You fuck off to god knows where for
days on end and then you come back and suddenly—I don’t know!
Are you and Harry, like…? A thing now? A couple!?”
“I don’t know what we are but…” Louis shrugs coyly, offering a telling
smile in place of a solid answer.
“Are you serious!?” Niall bursts again, apparently unable to retain or

quiet his excited energy. “So what did you say to him? Was it dramatic?
Did he cry? Did you cry? Of course you did, you’re like a full on
crybaby now—oh my god, I can’t believe you finally did it! I’m so
proud—”
“Shh!” Louis yanks Niall by the V of his scrub top and starts pulling
him out of the intensive care unit to the open hall. The nurses are
glaring at them with unamused faces the entire time and the last thing
817
either of them want to do is piss off the nurses because they’ve woken
up all of the babies in the NICU. “What kind of kid doctor are you?!”
“So are you going to do it?” Niall leans in wiggling his eyebrows and
ignoring Louis’ question completely. “Please tell me you’re finally going
to fuck each other. Because, Louis, honestly enough is enough—the
sexual tension between you and Harry nearly chokes me. I get burned
if I stand too close to you two.”
“Niall, god…you’re such a child.” Louis rolls his eyes, sighing. “And a
horrid gossip.”
“I just want the answers I’m entitled to. I haven’t watched this sob
story for the past nine years of my life to not get answers.”
Louis gives Niall a mischievous look, leaning in a bit. “You know

what’s better than sex?”
“Nothing?” Niall ponders with a frown.
“Anticipation.” Louis winks as he spins on his heel and starts to walk

away.
“I hate you.” Niall grumbles, sighing.
“Thank you for monitoring Avery for me!” Louis calls cheerfully over
his shoulder as he giddily struts down the hall. “I love you, Ni!”
“I want details, Tomlinson! The whole story! From start to finish!”

Niall hollers down the hallway with a cupped hand over his mouth as
Louis pushes out of the double doors of the Peds Floor. “I expect a
full report and—ok, right. Good talk. Have fun, be safe!”
“Thanks, Dad.”
||☤||
818
When Louis finally gets home, Benedict doesn’t come running to the
front door to greet him as he always does and that can only mean that
he’s happily reunited with his other favorite person. And Louis doesn’t
know why, but just the simple thought of that tugs his lips into a small
smile.
Louis shrugs out of his jacket as well as his suit blazer, rolling up the
white sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows. He sort of wants to
change out of his suit completely, but he’s also far more interested in
finding Harry, just wanting to see him again.
“Harry?” Louis calls as he creeps deeper into his house. It smells

absolutely amazing, an aroma of fresh herbs and spices wafting
through the halls from the kitchen and it’s the first time all day that
Louis realizes how hungry he actually is. And come to think of it, Louis
can’t even recall the last real meal he ate in the last thirty-six hours that
wasn’t an energy bar or some form of caffeine.
“Har—oh my god.” Louis gasps in surprise as he shuffles past the

dining room, greeted by a perfectly set table. A table that, for the
record, he has probably used properly only once since he started as an
intern a decade ago. But now there’s a bouquet of fresh cut flowers
displayed in a crystal vase and candles lit along the table, giving the
space a warm, romantic glow.
Harry walks in from the kitchen carrying a dish in both his hands. As
Louis expected, Benny is right at his heels, wagging his tail as he trails
after Harry’s every move. Harry sets the lidded dish down on the table
before straightening himself back out.
“Hi.” Harry blushes, meeting Louis’ eyes.
“Hi…” Louis whispers back, still a bit caught off guard. “What is all
this?”
“I was literally losing my mind waiting for you so...”
819
“You made me dinner?” Louis adjusts his gaze from the table to
Harry’s face.
“Chicken piccata.” Harry lifts the lid of the dish he just set down on
the table and it looks unequivocally perfect, like a gourmet meal. And
Louis can’t believe all the trouble Harry must have gone through to do
all of this for him so quickly. “It was Avery’s idea really. She told me I
had to impress you.”
Louis’ smile turns into a fond laugh. “That girl.”
“She’s ridiculous, I know. But she also gives the best suggestions.”
Harry smiles slowly, clasping his hands together behind his back as
though he doesn’t know what to do with them. “You know you have
no food in your fridge. Literally just alcohol and rotting take out
boxes.”
Louis shakes his head regretfully. “I’m aware, yeah.”
“So, I went shopping and yeah… I made dinner.” Harry shrugs a little,
hands still behind his back in slightly nervous kind of way.
Louis walks further into the room, closing some of the distance
between them. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” Harry smiles softly and the way he looks at Louis is so
intent, like he’s peering right into Louis’ soul.
A blush of his own creeps up Louis’ neck, so he looks down at the

table again. But looking at all the effort Harry put towards making this
evening perfect for them, blows Louis away yet again and he doesn’t
even know what to say next. “This is so sweet of you, Harry. Really,
thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Harry’s smile brightens even more, which cause

his gorgeous dimples to make an appearance. And Louis can’t, for the
820
life of him, stop staring at him, finding him just so enrapturing. “I
um…I did forget wine though.”
“Well lucky for us, I do have a pretty impressive collection of

unimpressive wine in the basement.” Louis offers with a light chuckle.
“I wouldn’t drink it with anyone else but you, and I bet some of them
might even be aged to drinkable decency by now.”
And so they enjoy a candlelit dinner together, sat adjacently next to

each other at one end of the large table. It’s delicious, of course it’s
delicious. As long as Louis has known Harry, he’s been an amazing
cook. Louis didn’t even realize how much he missed the little things
about Harry, like how he used to cook for him all the time.
When they finish eating, the room falls suddenly quiet, the kind of
quiet that becomes more noticeably obvious the longer it passes. Like
the adjustment period has passed and now all the attention has shifted
from the food and small talk and is suddenly on the fact that they are
alone. Alone together. Alone together and both well aware of each
other’s feelings.
There’s a charged tension in the air, riddled with nerves and sexual
confusion as to what they’re next move should be. They haven’t so
much as touched hands since Louis confessed his entire soul to Harry
in front of the hospital. It’s obvious that they’re both itching to
rekindle the fiery spark between them, pick up right where they left off
and start testing the waters…but it’s weird. Not a bad weird or
anything, just weird in the sense that this relationship is both new and
old at the same time and neither of them seem to know where to
fucking start.
And Harry is fidgeting—literally fidgeting uncontrollably like a little

kid, looking so young and boyish as he squirms around in his seat. One
second he’s shuffling his feet around under the table, next he’s picking
at the hem of his jumper, then he’s twisting his rings off and on his
long fingers, only to start the whole song and dance all over again. He
just can’t sit still and truthfully, he hasn’t been able to all night since
Louis first set foot in the dining room.
821
“Are you nervous?” Louis wonders quietly, glancing towards Harry.
“I’m just—I uh…yes.” Harry admits, cheeks flourishing in flushed

shades of red.
“I’m making you nervous.” Louis grins, tilting his head as he continues
to watch Harry closely.
Harry’s blush only darkens, coloring his entire face. He sets down his
wine glass and turns his body more towards Louis. “Yes, cuz well—
it’s you.”
“Exactly it’s just me, you know me.” Louis murmurs, closing a bit of
the space separating them by leaning in towards Harry.
Harry timidly nods his head, nibbling on his lower lip. “I know but
I…god—I feel like a teenager—you make me feel like a fucking
teenager. Sitting next to you…being here again...it’s actually
happening—I can’t get used to the fact that this is really happening,
and I can’t stop thinking about how ridiculously gorgeous and pretty
you are—I mean, fuck, look at you…you’re just…breathtaking...” He
exhales in a way of longing as he looks to Louis once more. “And I
can’t stop squirming because I can’t stop thinking about how badly I
want to touch you again and kiss you again—but then it just makes me
so nervous all over again because I’m not just attracted to you, I love
you—I actually full on love you and I’ve never felt like this about
anyone and I don’t want to mess things up for us, I want everything
to be perfect and—”
Louis kisses him, deciding to just take the plunge, refusing to waste
another second as he catches Harry’s lips with his own, stopping his
rambling. Louis can feel just how tense Harry is under his touch, pulse
racing. It’s a bit of an odd realization because despite how long they’ve
known each other, this is still new uncharted territory for them.
There’s so much more pressure than if they were to have just met.
“You’re really cute when you ramble.”
822
Harry smiles a little, looking slightly more at ease than a moment
before. “The last time I felt this nervous about someone…it was with
you, years ago...”
“I’m nervous too.” Louis admits in a whisper, foreheads held towards

each other.
“You don’t look nervous at all.”
Louis takes one of Harry’s hands and places it right over his rapidly
beating heart. “I’m dead nervous, honestly.”
Harry pulls back enough to really search Louis’ eyes, a slight trace of
uncertainty lining the green of his irises. “But not the bad kind of
nervous, right? The scared, this-is-a-bad-fucking-idea kind of nervous?”
“No…no, never…” Louis closes the small space between them and
kisses Harry again, slow and soft and reassuring. The trepidation is
understandable given their history and Louis knows Harry is overly
worried about somehow hurting him again. “It’s more like the holy-shit-
this-is-actually-happening kind of nervous.”
Harry grins slowly. “Yeah…”
Louis sits up then, glancing down at his watch briefly before standing
up to his feet. “Hey, I have an idea.”
Harry frowns in complete confusion as Louis proceeds to take one of

his hands to drag him up to his feet without any more elaboration.
Harry seems to be so caught off guard, he ends up just following Louis
from the living room to the hallway and right out of the front door of
the house without protest. “Wait—but Louis, where are we going?”
Louis smiles gently, pausing to bring Harry’s hand to his lips. “You’ll
see.”
||✚||
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They’re almost completely out of breath, slightly buzzed from the
ridiculously cheap wine aerating through their systems as they tumble
after each other uphill, following along a dewy path well known by
their feet. So familiar, it’s like a muscle memory the way their legs just
know where to go, where to step next. Harry could close his eyes right
now and trust that the next time he opens them, he would be standing
in the center of their special meadow.
Although Harry still doesn’t have the faintest idea why Louis suddenly
decided to drag them both up here, but he’s repeatedly asked him as
much. Each time Louis only answers with a knowing smile or the
reassuring brush of his thumb along Harry’s palm where their hands
are linked together, refusing any sort of verbal answer. But Harry can’t
rightly complain, not when it’s such a lovely spring night outside and
he’s holding the hand of such a beautiful boy.
The moon is out tonight, glowing clear and luminescent in the open
midnight sky. And as entrancing and awe-inspiring as the moon is
tonight, Harry finds himself even more captivated by how the full
gleam strikingly catches every bright hue in Louis’ eyes as though he’s
simply made of stardust.
“Lou, are you going to tell me why we are up here now?”
“Just one sec, H...” Louis tosses over his shoulder, giving Harry’s hand
another reassuring squeeze. He is completely resolute in his
determination to pull Harry to a particular spot in the vast field of
rolling grass, a spot that only he seems to know.
Harry follows along easily, grinning as an unexpected excitement

comes over him. He would follow Louis anywhere, he’d follow him
right off of the edge of a cliff if Louis asked it of him and Harry
wouldn’t even think twice about it.
They get to a spot in the field that is in prime view of the moon. It’s
the perfect spot really, giving off the wonderous illusion that they are
somehow closer to the stars above. It hardly even looks real, majestic
and breathtaking, like something right out of a dream.
824
Louis finally turns around to fully face Harry, unlacing their fingers as
he takes in a deep breath. And then he smiles, an adorably shy but still
hopeful and so very beautiful smile and Harry honestly couldn’t tear
his eyes away from him if he tried.
“Ok, so I’m nervous—obviously…and um I know you’re nervous too

but…I thought maybe we could come up here and start checking
things off of our list. Why waste any more time, right?” Louis chews
on his lower lip, fidgeting a bit with his hands. “You said that you
wanted to dance to the song, Dancing in the Moonlight, but I’m going to
do you one better. That’s why we’re up here, really…” His voice is
thoughtful as he looks up at the open sky above them in quiet awe.
“Because the moon is so gorgeous tonight and it’d be a shame to waste
it and….and I don’t know…I thought that you might like to dance
under the actual moonlight while dancing to Dancing in the Moonlight—
wow, that’s a fucking mouthful, isn’t it?” Louis sort of offers a small
laugh, but it’s masked by pure nerves. “I’m bloody rambling again,
aren’t I? Shit…”
It’s the sweetest gesture, causing Harry’s lips to spread into a deeply
dimpled smile while his heart begins to flutter in his chest as though
suddenly sprouting wings of its own.
“Right well, enough of that then.” Louis properly clears his throat,
inclining his head towards Harry with his palm outstretched in
question. And there’s that smile again, the one that makes Louis’ eyes
begin to crease at their corners, the one that never fails to make Harry’s
stomach do complete somersaults. “Harry Styles, would you care to
dance with me, love?”
And he’s staring, Harry knows he’s staring at Louis, but how could he
possibly look away from him when Louis is looking at him like that,
like nothing else could even begin to matter more to him. Like the
gorgeous stars above, Louis is a thing of dreams, a vision of absolute
wonder. The way he makes Harry feel with only a smile, only a look,
only a sweet, nervous gesture, is an experience so rare and utterly
breathtaking, Harry continually hopes to god he’s not dreaming.
825
Harry is nodding his head repeatedly before finding the words to
speak, and he just knows he has the fondest, most ridiculous
expression painted across his face. But he can’t fucking help it and he
doesn’t fucking care because he’s so endeared, so in love, and all he
wants is for Louis to know it.
“I’d love nothing more.” Harry finally answers softly, taking Louis’
proffered hand in his own.
If Harry thought Louis’ initial, nerve-riddled smile was everything, the

one he gives Harry next is nothing short of extraordinary, leaving
Harry spellbound. He looks bashfully to Louis as the classic 70s’ song
that Harry used to listen to on a loop, the song he always envisioned
as the perfect song to fall in love to, starts to play from Louis’ phone.
And they dance. They dance like there is no one else on the earth apart
from the two of them, like time doesn’t exist, like nothing else exists.
They dance and they laugh, all while bathed under the welcomed,
gentle glow of the moon. While held close in each other’s arms, the
nerves seem to float right away with the gentle breeze swirling around
their bodies.
There is only them and this moment and not a thing else.
Who knows how many times people throughout the years have said
that the world always seems to stop when they’re with the person they
love, it’s so commonly said, it almost becomes a throwaway sentiment
after a while. But Harry feels something opposite from that; his world
hasn’t stopped, it’s finally turning as it should, finally filled with life.
It’s brighter and richer when looking at it through the spectrum of
Louis’ eyes, sharpened into focus. The vibrancy and fullness Harry
feels is unparalleled, unprecedented by any other relationship of the
past. Will it always be like this when they’re together, even when time
has had its effects, when they’re older, wiser, greyer? Right now, they’re
in the beginning, the start of a new chapter together, blank pages upon
blank pages, empty lines waiting to be written, and Harry can’t wait to
see how much brighter and fuller his life can become with Louis at his
side.
826
This whole thing, dancing in an open field, illumed only by the moon
is so spontaneous and unexpected, but still so very romantic and sweet
and thoughtful, far exceeding any expectation Harry could have ever
had when he first envisioned it as a part of his quixotic hopes for his
future self. Harry’s initial list of someday hopes and dreams have taken
on a new form since he met Louis a decade ago. Louis breathes life
into Harry’s dreams, life Harry couldn’t have ever imagined, translating
his hopes from more than just wishes and dreams, but into realities he
never thought would happen.
They dance long after the song fades, still wrapped up in one another’s
arms, slowed feet still swaying to a rhythm synchronized to the beat of
their racing hearts. Breathless and enamored, they gaze into each
other’s eyes, magnetized by the gravity of their growing emotions.
Harry’s eyes flick down to Louis’ lips, now only a small breadth away
from his own. Louis lifts his jaw upwards and moves in the rest of the
way, locking their lips together in a slow kiss.
Harry cradles Louis’ cheeks with both of his hands as their slow kiss
gradually begins to grow more passionate. And they each get so lost in
it, lost in the moment, lost in each other and it’s not long before they
soon tumble down together against the soft bed of grass, giggling
happily in between gentle kisses, any and all residual nerves between
them dissipated.
Lying together on their sides along the cool, damp grass, legs
intertwined and slotted together interchangeably, feels so easy, so
natural. There’s such a relaxed air to them now, in how their mouths
move against each other, in how their hands roam across the clothed
curves if each other’s bodies. It’s unhurried and languid, no sense of
urgency. They’re just making out like horny teenagers on a school night
and yet Harry could lie right here in this very spot, under the moon,
kissing Louis for days and nights on end and not do a thing else and
still consider his time wonderfully well spent.
Louis shifts from his side, rolling over until he’s lying on top of Harry,
bracketing Harry’s hips with his knees as he deepens the kiss further.
He pulls back slightly, face hovering right above Harry’s, so close that
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the ends of his fringe brush against Harry’s forehead. Harry gazes into
the crystalline pool of Louis’ eyes, continually amazed by how very
blue they still are even when there is hardly any light shining on them.
“I love you.” Louis whispers, his voice stays so soft and comforting,
but strong in a way that makes Harry really feel his words.
Harry doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to hearing Louis tell him that,
but he knows he will never grow tired of it. And there’s something so
incredible about being able to freely express how much Louis means
to him, to be able to be completely transparent about how deeply he
cares for him. “I love you too.”
And Harry would tell Louis all day and night how much he loves him,
just to keep that happily peaceful look on his face forever. Louis
nuzzles his face towards Harry’s neck, leaving a few tender kisses near
his ear before cuddling up against him.
“All those times we came up here and we could have been doing this.”
Harry grins slowly, hands resting on Louis’ lower back, holding him
close.
“What a waste.” Louis sighs against Harry’s exposed skin followed by

a shiver, his entire body jolting against the steady wind that’s beginning
to pick up as it breezes through the grassy field.
“You’re cold, aren’t you?” Harry asks, already knowing the answer.
He’s not wearing a jacket at all, only a thin white dress shirt and he has
a bit of a track record of getting cold easily.
“I maybe didn’t think this all the way through? It was a bit of a spur of
the moment kind of thing.” Louis laughs, sitting up with his legs
straddling Harry’s hips. He tucks both of his hands under his arms to
retain some of his own body heat. “I probably should have grabbed a
jacket or something before dragging you up here.”
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Harry shakes his head fondly as he sits up as well, shrugging off his
own sweater and dropping it over Louis’ head without further question
or thought. “I’m running out of jumpers to give you.”
Louis laughs appreciatively, burrowing himself inside the warmth of

the sweater before draping his arms around Harry’s neck as he sits
comfortably in his lap. “In my defense, it is really fucking cold up here
and I didn’t expect it because it’s the middle of May.”
Harry grins, leaning in for a short kiss. “You really should know by
now that it’s always cold at night.”
“Yeah, in the winter, it’s supposed to be spring now.”
“Next time, we’ll bundle you up in a full winter parka just to be safe.”
Harry teases.
“Well that’s no fun.” Louis frowns, snuggling half of his face all the
way up to his nose into the neck of the sweater. “How am I going to
steal your clothes if I already have my own?”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Harry smiles knowingly, still feeling Louis’
body quiver from the windchill. “But for now, we should probably get
back inside before you freeze to death. My sweater can only do so
much.”
||☤||
Even with Harry’s jumper engulfing him, Louis is shivering even more
by the time they make it back to his house. Standing in the front
entryway, Harry rubs his palms up and down Louis’ shoulders to warm
him up and Louis curls up against him, trying to suck up the heat that
seems to always be radiating from Harry’s body. How Harry manages
to be a portable space heater all the time, Louis may never understand.
But he’s enchanted by him regardless.
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He lifts his head a bit to kiss the underside of Harry’s jaw, not with any
sort or purpose, just a gentle brush of his lips to Harry’s skin. And his
skin is so soft, the smell intoxicating just like his jacket, just like
everything about him, all Louis wants to do is drown himself in it.
“Louis.” Harry calls quietly and Louis’ can feel the vibrations of his
voice from where his lips are still pressed under his chin.
Louis straightens himself out to meet Harry’s eyes, both arms still
circled around his midsection. And nothing more need even be said,
both expressing the same thing in one single look.
It’s hardly a second later when Harry determinedly crashes his lips to
Louis’, like he just can’t stand the separation any longer. Louis opens
his mouth and a quiet moan escapes him as Harry’s tongue slides
against his own. There’s more intent behind it now, less easygoing than
it was out in the field, both bolder. They move along with the kiss,
tripping up the wide staircase, chasing after each other’s lips.
When they reach the second floor, tumbling onto the landing, Louis
presses Harry’s back along the wall of the hallway. They’re breathing
fast, moving faster, legs slotted together, leaving no space between
their hips. Louis’ fingers rest on the tops of Harry’s hips, inching under
his t-shirt. He bunches the material up Harry’s chest and over his head,
dropping it carelessly to the floor, leaving his skin bare. Harry lulls his
head to the side and gasps when Louis cups his palm over the
constrained fabric of his jeans. He’s so reactive, letting out small
groans under his breath and gentle sighs every time Louis lays a single
finger on him, and it already has Louis wanting more and more of him.
Louis guides Harry into his bedroom by his hips, fingers curled to his
beltloops. Harry hasn’t taken his mouth off of Louis’ neck, sucking
persistently as his fingers begin to dip inside the back of his trousers.
They fall onto the bed together, kissing passionately once again with
Harry’s body lying over Louis’.
And Louis doesn’t know why, but suddenly his mind is flooded by a
sea of timestamped memories of all the times they’ve spent in this very
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room. Memories he didn’t expect to have, not right now. Early
mornings when Harry would crawl in his bed and wake him up just to
talk to him about nothing particular and late nights when they laughed
and joked for hours at a time together. And it’s all mirrored with all
the other early mornings and terribly late nights that they spent apart
and Louis spent alone.
alone.
Now Louis can’t stop thinking about how lonely this room has
become, how isolated he’s felt in this very bed for so many long years.
He never thought he would ever have Harry back, have Harry right
back in his bed with him, holding him. And for whatever reason, it
makes Louis surprisingly emotional, more emotional than he’s
prepared to be. So many stupid unwelcome emotions that he doesn’t
want right now, catching right up to him anyway.
Harry must immediately sense that something is wrong because he

pulls back enough to study Louis’ face. “Hey…what’s wrong? Is it too
fast?” He worries softly, single hand cupped to Louis’ rosy cheek. “We
don’t have to do anything, Lou.”
Louis quickly shakes his head, attempting to push aside his impeding
thoughts, but a few small tears persist regardless. It’s not that it’s too
fast—he wants to be here with Harry, he does, he really does, but the
urge to cry is so close to overpowering him. His voice is wavering with
a mix of rising feelings, but he continues shaking his head regardless.
“Nothing—nothing’s w-wrong…I don’t know… it’s the new me,
remember? I cry…”
Harry gently wipes a tear from his eye, nodding in understanding.

“You cry.”
“Mhmm...” Louis nods, pressing his lips tightly together as he once

again tries so hard to brush off whatever this is, trying to internally talk
himself down from whatever mental break this is about to be. But his
racing mind just won’t let him, ceaselessly bombarding his entire
thought process and he fucking hates this feeling, but he really can’t
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fight it. And it’s only seconds later when his face breaks completely, a
choked sob splitting his features apart, spurring heavier tears from his
eyes. So Louis drops his head and puts both of his hands over his face,
feeling a bit embarrassed that he just can’t ever keep himself together.
“Oh Louis.” Harry sits up, gently pulling Louis up with him into his
lap to cuddle him right to his naked chest. “Please tell me what’s wrong
baby, just let me in. Talk to me.”
Louis shakes his head again, lowering his hands to look up at Harry.
“It’s n-nothing—I’m sorry I’m—I promise I’m not trying to cry o-or
upset you—I…I can’t c-control it and it’s just been so much recently
w-with…with Avery and t-then you and…I don’t k-know…” He’s still
shaking his head wildly, trying not to panic himself, but it might be too
late.
Harry softly holds his hands to Louis’ his face, calming him as he
thumbs away his tears. “Hey no. Don’t be sorry. Why would I be
upset? I could never be mad at you for having feelings. You have every
right to cry, I only want to comfort you…I want us to always be honest
and open with each other…I want you to trust me.”
“I do t-trust you, Harry I do…I l-love you and I…I…” Louis lowers
himself down to bury his head against Harry’s chest again, not evening
knowing how he wants to finish that sentence.
But Harry doesn’t seem to need him to finish it, understanding without
words, lips pressed to Louis’ temple as he just holds him. “It’s ok…I
know…”
Both arms curled tightly around Harry’s waist, Louis breathes him in
for several quiet moments, focusing on the presence he has, allowing
it to begin to ground him. He’s not going to do this again, he’s not
going to run away from himself or his emotions, hiding them deep
within himself, so far down that he can pretend they don’t exist. They
do exist and there is a history between them that maybe Louis needs
to talk through a bit more. Process through the root of why he’s being
barraged by on onslaught of heavy emotions right now, there has to
832
be a reason for it. Harry just said he wants them to be open and honest
with each other. And if he and Harry are going to do this and be
together, they have to be able to address and verbalize all the emotions
and feelings that got lost in translation while they were apart.
Louis continues breathing in and out slowly as he does an internal

assessment on what exactly he’s feeling and how to express it to Harry
in a way that doesn’t sound like complete garbled nonsense. After a
few minutes, he decides to just speak honestly, saying whatever comes
out first.
“I missed you s-so much H…” Louis murmurs barely at a whisper,

breath stuttering around the words. It’s what he realizes that he feels
the most, a lingering sense of loss over the time Harry wasn’t beside
him, all the many times he sat in this very room alone, wishing he
wasn’t. “And…I wished that you’d come back to me…every day I
wished you were here more than anything…and I thought it would
never happen…but now you really are here…with me…and…” He
swipes under his eyes as a few more tears fall. “It’s just—that night…t-
that night you came in here...I don’t know…I can’t stop thinking about
it now…”
“I’m sorry.” Harry cuts him off, blurting out the words as though he
can’t hold onto them any longer. His voice is raw, hoarse like
it aches and the emotive nature of his shining eyes, wide and earnest,
alarms Louis. “Lou, I’m…I’m so sorry.”
Louis lifts his head and shakes it, meeting his teary eyes. That’s not
what Louis is even trying to get at. “No Harry…you were so s-sad and
h-heartbroken that night—during that whole time you were h-hurting
so much that you weren’t even yourself anymore. And that
night…god—it hurt so m-much to watch you go through that...watch
you fall apart” He tightens his grasp around Harry’s naked waist. “And
I j-just—I wanted to help you, I wanted to make you stop hurting but
I…”
Louis knows it’s not beneficial to get caught up in the what if’s and if
only’s of life. To hit replay on the recording of his life and wonder what
would have happened or what could have happened if only he had
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made a different decision. What if it all went down differently? What
if he gave in to Harry that night? What if he professed his feelings
earlier? Would it have made a difference? Would Harry have stayed?
Could all of this somehow have been avoided?
But Louis knows that getting lost in all that shit, won’t help either of
them and it’s not what Louis wants to focus on any more. Because if
he allowed himself, Louis knows he could go round and round about
this for centuries. But in the end, Louis can’t deny that Harry leaving
triggered a cascade of events that pushed him to an elevated point in
his career as a surgeon. A point he might not have ever reached if
Harry and Avery remained in his life during those pivotal years. With
nothing else to distract him, nothing to call his own, Louis became the
best in his field, world renowned and respected. And as a surgical
intern, years ago, he was so close to throwing that away for her,
unknowing of how much she would one day need him in the future.
Maybe he would have changed specialties, opted for something far less
rigorous to be able to balance raising her with Harry. Maybe he
wouldn’t have been so involved in innovative research or as disciplined
in becoming trained and certified in so many minor precise subsets of
his field, maybe he wouldn’t have been the best. Louis knows he still
would have been happy, they were his entire world and if he had them,
how could he not be happy? But one day Louis would wake up and
find out that his baby was sick, and he wouldn’t have been able to help
her at all, powerless to watch her body become overtaken by a
malignant disease and he would have ultimately lost her still, for good.
Without the connection he and Avery had, without the unbounded

drive, no one would have gone to the lengths Louis went through to
save her. No one in their right mind would have crossed given
boundaries and did what he did, it wasn’t sound medical judgement or
logical practice. From an outside prospective, what he did was
outlandish. It was risky and dangerous for everyone involved, but he
would still do it again and again and again to save Avery.
So if Louis thinks about all that, if he attempts to rationalize the

alternative trajectories his life could have taken, he has to start to
834
believe that maybe things really do happen for a reason. As horrible as
it was to spend those eight years apart, maybe it was necessary in
certain respects and in the end, they were always meant to come back
to each other.
“For years I always went back and forth about that night in my head,
you know? I replayed everything about it over and over. And then I
started thinking about the day you left…and the h-horrible fight we
had and every time I always just wanted to take it all b-back…I wanted
to just hold you and remind you that everything was going to be ok
and that you would get through it, we would get through it t-together.
I wanted to tell you t-that I loved you and never let you go…” Louis
exhales along with his tears, trying to make sense of his thoughts. “But
it didn’t work out that way…and only recently have I been able to
consider the possibility that maybe…m-maybe everything does
happen for a reason, maybe there’s m-meaning in everything, even the
little t-things…” Louis tries to explain, voice wavering as he accepts it.
“Avery did that for me…she changed e-everything for me…”
Harry has just as many tears racing down his cheeks as Louis does,
linking their fingers together between them.
“I…I don’t know if that makes sense but…I just want you to know
that what happened to us in the past isn’t your fault, love…” Louis
tells him seriously, looking right into his eyes with all the sincerity in
his heart. He is gripping Harry’s hands tightly, searching his eyes. “We
shouldn’t find blame anymore...and wherever this goes between us, I
don’t ever want you to feel like we aren’t even or level with each other
because we are. We are, Harry. I love you and I’ll always love you no
matter what happened then or what happens now.”
Harry leans in and kisses him, more tears spilling over as he seems to
acknowledge all that Louis has said to him. Louis pulls Harry even
closer, the kiss edging on the realm of desperation, both of them
needing something from each other. Louis presses Harry’s back to the
fabric lined headboard from where he’s positioned on his lap, both of
his hands flat to Harry’s exposed chest.
835
“I’m all yours, Lou.” Harry murmurs intensely, passionately, like it’s
the only thing he knows without a shadow of doubt to be true. “What
do you want?”
“I want you.” Louis mumbles desperately to Harry’s jaw, fingers

grazing up along his neck to hold his face. It’s all he could ever want,
all of Harry in every way. He needs Harry, needs his hands on his body,
needs his lips pressed to Louis’ own, needs that closeness with him. “I
just want you…”
Harry nods silently, clearly feeling the same way as he holds Louis’
charged gaze. Louis reaches behind him to the bedside table to grab a
small bottle of lube and a condom packet, handing them to Harry
without saying anything more.
“Ok.” Harry whispers softly, sealing their lips together amorously.
Harry removes the sweater he let Louis borrow earlier, lifting it over
Louis’ head. Then he gradually begins unbuttoning Louis’ shirt, one by
one, gentle fingertips brushed against nervous, nearly trembling skin.
There’s an air of trepidation between them, hesitation hitching his
movements as though still scared to cross an invisible line that doesn’t
exist, seeking permission with every touch as though he’s terrified of
something irrational.
“It’s ok…” Louis murmurs, trailing his hands along the sides of
Harry’s face in reassuring motions, locking eyes. There’s still a question
there, trapped in the emerald green of Harry’s gaze, a silent yet urgent
question of approval, of confirmation that Louis really is ok. “It’s ok,
H…I’m sure, I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”
Louis lays back on the bed, head rested against the pillows as he slowly
pulls Harry with him. Louis runs his fingers along Harry’s shirtless
back, sliding his hands under Harry’s torso to unfasten his jeans. Harry
gets Louis completely out of his dress shirt, sitting up with both palms
pressed to his hips.
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“God, you’re so fucking fit.” Harry groans, staring at Louis’ naked
chest seeming ready fall to his knees to bow down and worship him.
Louis lifts up as well, adjusting in Harry’s lap, straddling his legs around
his hips.
“I run every morning.” Louis answers between kisses along Harry’s

jawbone, nosing along the veins of his neck. The smell of his soft skin
is wildly intoxicating, Louis could get drunk off of it, maybe he already
is utterly wasted off of it. He smells divine, he smells of soft rose petals,
of celestial gardens and warm herbaceous notes.
And Louis can feel the pulse thrumming under Harry’s soft delicate
skin growing more frantic with each new minute, rabid with every new
touch. It’s not rushed though, there’s nothing rushed about the tender
exploration of each other’s bodies, learning what draws out a reaction.
Louis want to know exactly what makes Harry gasp, what makes him
scream, what makes him completely lose his mind. Because for the
first time, they have time, they have all the time in the world to just be
together and figure out what that means for them.
Harry and Louis finish undressing each other until there’s not a single
stitch of clothing between them. Harry’s naked body lies heavy
between Louis’ legs, and Louis can feel just how hard Harry’s cock is,
resting thickly against his thigh.
“You’re so beautiful, Louis.” Harry utters in reverence, as his hands

praise Louis’ body unceasingly, devoting his mouth in tribute.
“Everything about you is beautiful.”
“Harry…”Louis exhales, breathless and heady, already panting as

Harry sucks his mark purposefully to divot of Louis’ shoulder. Louis’
lashes flutter closed, fingertips tangled through Harry’s curls, grazing
his scalp.
Harry hasn’t even touched a single finger to his dick, yet Louis already
feels so undone, hard to the point of pain. All he wants is for Harry to
touch him, wrap his hands around him. Louis adjusts his hips upwards,
seeking more contact with him, more friction. Like chasing after the
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effects of a drug, he can’t get enough of Harry’s touch, of Harry’s skin
flush with his own.
Louis watches mesmerized, as Harry gradually moves down his body,

leaving a trail of tactful marks and love bites. Each loving touch to his
skin, to his nipples, to his ribs, his abs, his hips—anywhere, sends sparks
of electricity straight to his groin, nearly jolting his entire body with
the sheer intensity of it. Louis can’t stop staring at how Harry’s muscles
take the shape of hard lines, yet curve and bow so enticingly, so
brilliantly, to every movement of his body.
Harry nudges Louis’ legs apart with his nose, pressing adorning kisses
to his inner thighs, teeth lightly nipping at his sensitive skin as his long,
slicked fingers begin opening him up. Harry takes his time with one
lubed finger, then two, then three—fuck, each digit driving Louis
utterly mad with want, until he’s writhing against the sheets.
All the while, Harry’s lips murmur awed praises against Louis’ skin,
acting like it is his sole mission to make Louis feel adored in every way
imaginable. He’s meticulous in the deliberate way that he touches,
adaptable in how he caresses, discovering exactly what Louis’ body
responds to and taking careful note of it. Louis can hardly comprehend
how Harry seems to be everywhere at once, his hands, his mouth, his
body all envelope around Louis in the most astounding ways.
With his knuckles gently spreading Louis apart, Harry takes his time
kissing his way up the length of Louis’ erection to the tip, causing every
hair on Louis’ body to stand completely on edge. Each press of his
worshipping hands is transfixing, every minor trace of Harry’s lips
makes him gasp, each slight movement is magnetizing. Louis has never
wanted someone so badly in his life, he’s never so urgently needed to
feel every part of someone else pressed against him, but fuck does he
need Harry. Louis needs his fingers freely rooming along his
goosebumped skin, he needs Harry’s mouth hungrily claiming
whatever part of Louis he wants next. And Harry seems to answer
Louis’ every need without it needing to be verbalized, so in tune with
each reactive sound he makes. But now Louis needs Harry inside of
him more than anything else.
838
“H…please…” Louis begs with a slack jaw, hands entangled in Harry’s
hair, going limp as he feels long fingers spread even further apart inside
him. It’s already so intense and at this rate, Louis isn’t sure of how long
he can last. “Now…I want you now…I’m ready…please, love.” Those
indomitable fingers of his are still moving at a methodical pace,
brushing against his prostate and making Louis scream, arching into
Harry’s touch. “Fuck—right now, Harry please, please…”
Harry unhurriedly drags his lips back up the spans of Louis’ aroused
torso, sucking at targeted points on his neck and collarbones until he
seeks out his lips yet again. Louis moans right into his mouth, lowly
whining and whimpering as he grips onto Harry in desperation. Harry
sits back briefly to slip on a condom, rolling it on smoothly. He applies
another squirt of lube before lowering back down, adjusting himself
right back over Louis. Harry kisses Louis deeply once more, the tip of
his erect head positioned just outside Louis’ primed hole. His heart is
stuttering in anticipation, breath coming in ragged bursts as he gazes
up at Harry.
“I’ve got you, baby.” Harry promises in a soft spoken whisper,

soothing him.
As soon as Harry presses in, Louis inhales sharply through his open
mouth, the very air stolen from his lungs. He can’t think or process,
rendered useless as he adjusts to the overwhelming feeling of having
Harry inside him. The feeling itself is so much fuller than he
expected, deeper, a sensation so strong it utterly overrides all normal
functioning.
Louis lulls his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to remember
how to breathe. Harry hasn’t even moved yet, but it’s so much all at
once. It’s been awhile since he last did this with anyone and there’s a
slight painful edge to way his body expands around him, Harry
completely filling him up—but god, it’s still so good.
Harry is hovering just above Louis’ face, starring down at him in what
could only be described as pure wonderment. His pupils are already
blown, breath just as ragged as Louis’. Harry’s biceps bracket Louis’
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sides as he restrains himself from moving, patiently waiting for Louis
to adjust.
“Are you ok, Lou?” He’s so gentle in how he says it, how he seems to
cradle Louis with his entire body, carefully studying his face for every
reaction.
Louis holds his palms tenderly to Harry’s upper neck, right near his
jaw, and he lifts his head up to meet Harry’s lips in an answering firm
kiss, hardly able to form tangible sentences in his fogged mind. Louis
drives his hips forward slightly, goading Harry into moving.
Harry slowly slides out and back in once, a low almost guttural groan
escaping his throat as his eyes momentarily flutter closed. Louis’ back
involuntarily arches up off the bed, matching Harry’s groans with his
own. Louis shifts his hands on Harry’s steady shoulders, slowly
skimming them down the tantalizingly curved muscles of Harry’s arms
until their fingers are intertwined against the sheets. When Harry’s eyes
come to focus on Louis again, they’re so expressive, emotive beyond
the constraint of words. Just watching the intensive look in Harry’s
darkened eyes turns Louis on even more, making him simultaneously
feel heated all over and tremendously loved.
The pace sets itself between them, gauged naturally through each
other’s gaze. It’s slow, intimate in how close they are to each other,
tender and gentle in how they touch, adoring. And Harry is so attentive,
entire focus zoned solely on Louis beneath him. Louis surrenders
control, he would surrender every tangible part of himself to Harry,
it’s already his, everything he has, everything he is belongs to Harry.
Louis clings his arms around Harry’s broad back, fingers digging
against the hard outlines and strong ripples of his muscles as he presses
further into him, finding a new, faster rhythm. Every single stretch of
Louis’ skin that is touching Harry’s is on fire, burning under his touch,
leaving every square inch of his body hot and flushed. The way Harry’s
body moves against him is rapturous, affecting Louis down to his very
core. He lifts his legs to lock behind Harry’s lower back, right above
the swell of his bum, sweetening the angle and allowing Harry to go
840
deeper and deeper, hitting that spot dead-on with each and every
thrust.
Louis doesn’t ever want it to stop, so wrapped up in everything about

the man above him. He’s so beautiful, and in every possibly way Harry
takes Louis’ last breath away. There’s a sheen of fresh sweat starting
to coat Harry’s body and the sound of the sweet, salacious moans
falling from his mouth, carnally alights Louis.
It feels like all the excitement of a first time, a delicate balance of nerves
and uncertainty spiking their blood stream faster than an infused drug.
Every touch is novel, every motion is unmatched, but yet how they
move is like falling right back into a well-known routine. Bodies so in
sync and oddly familiar with each other even though it’s all so very
new.
Maybe that’s because they’re so in tune with each other day to day.
Louis always knows what Harry is feeling just by looking at him and
the same goes for Harry when it comes to Louis. Like hearts tied
together on a single string, they’re linked to each other in a way that
defies understanding. And now, coming together physically like this,
there’s a much higher element to it that Louis has never experienced
with anyone else he’s ever slept with in his life. An emotional element,
making it feel like so much more than sex. Louis feels vulnerable in
ways he never thought he could possibly manage, stripped down and
naked in every way. To be fully known and loved unconditionally by
Harry, without constraint, without stipulation—it’s overwhelming, it’s
unusual, it’s inspiring, it’s frightening. Oh, but it’s everything.
No one knows him like the man above him, no one understands the
absolute mess inside him, no one pulls him out of the spiraling
darkness within himself. They’ve been through so much, together and
apart, and Louis could cry because the raw line of intimacy between
them is overtaking every last cell in his body, physically overpowering
his emotions. He has spent so much time hiding from his life, hiding
away from his emotions, years passed by filled with unfeeling moments.
But in this moment, Louis is completely transparent, opened wide to
every emotion that comes waving over him. Louis wants to remember
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this feeling forever, immortalize it along the folds of his mind and
ruminate on it for years to come. He wants to think back on it long
into the future and remember every ardent sensation, every passionate
realization about his very first time with the love of his life.
Harry drops his head weakly, face buried to Louis’ neck as he gasps
out a rasping moan that makes Louis lascivious with want and
emotional desire. Harry’s arms come to circle around Louis’ upper
back, clinging to him as though he needs Louis to be somehow closer
to him.
“I love you...” Harry mumbles breathlessly to his collarbone, and his

voice sounds wrecked with desperation and longing, like he’s on the
verge of crying too, mirroring Louis’ every last emotion. “Fuck,
Louis—baby, I love you so much.”
Several silent tears begin to freely streak down Louis’ cheeks as he

closes his eyes, holding on just as tightly to Harry with his entire body.
As though embodying one soul, their racing hearts are as interlaced as
physically as their joined bodies, spirits intertwined so thoroughly, it’s
almost like they can read each other’s every thought. And it’s
unbelievable, because it shouldn’t be possible to be so bound to one
person, to feel so fucking much all at once.
Louis cups his unsteady hands to Harry’s reddened face as he searches

his eyes, the words caught somewhere between his heart and his
throat. So instead he brings his lips to Harry’s gently, kissing his lips
raw until his impassioned words spill right out of him. “I love you.”
He exhales, dropping his head down, mouth open as he sucks along
the center groove of his chest. And as soon as he says it, the phrase
makes Harry’s whole body tremor uncontrollably, having an
overwhelmed reaction to the earnestness of Louis’ voice. So Louis
keeps going, wanting to feel Harry come completely undone above
him. He lifts his head towards Harry’s ear, chanting his undying love
over and over again as he holds him. “I’m so in love with you, H…I
love you with everything I am. I love you…I love you, Harry.”
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“Oh, Louis.” Harry utters his name in pleasured reverence, heartfelt as
though just saying his name does unmeasurable things to his entire
system. His hips continue to rut steadily, and Louis doesn’t know how
much more he can physically take, he’s never felt more connected to
him and it’s compelling and breathtaking all at once.
Harry slips a hand between their glistening bodies to wrap around

Louis’ cock, and Louis lets out a muted whine from somewhere deep
in his throat on contact. It was already too much, but now with Harry’s
smooth strokes matching the paced rhythm of their merged bodies,
Louis knows he could come at any second. And it’s all making him so
vulnerable, nakedly exposed to the point of neediness. There are even
more tears pooling under his eyes and he’s once again overwhelmed
by how severely his emotions are affecting his entire body. He never
wants to lose this feeling, this man, he never wants to spend another
moment without him again.
“Baby, promise you’ll never leave me—promise you’ll a-always be

mine…” Louis whimpers emotionally, fervent. He’s still holding
Harry’s face in his hands, still looking deep into his blown eyes,
needing to hear it, needing so much just to hear Harry promise those
words to him.
Harry crashes their lips together hard, almost hard enough to hurt,
teeth clinking roughly together as he seems to try and physically
reassure Louis about how he feels. “I promise—I swear I’m yours
forever, Lou…you own my heart, you always have.” Harry whispers
tenderly, twisting his wrist determinedly around Louis’ length while
still moving inside him. “Yours…yours…only yours…”
And Louis swears he sees stars to the point of almost blacking out
completely, he can barely breathe, barely function beyond the
powerful spell Harry holds over his entire body and heart. It tugs more
tears from his eyes and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so loved, wholly
surrounded by it. Louis can feel a pressured heat unfurling inside him,
he’s so close, teetering right near his edge.
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“I need you so much, Louis…” Harry’s breathy voice is cracking and
weak and Louis can clearly see the fresh tears shining under his eyes
that match his own. Honest and earnest, born from such a raw place
inside him. “…I’m so lost without you. I never want to live without
you.”
And maybe it’s that, Harry’s promise, Harry’s wrecked voice as he said
it, the emotional wetness under his eyes, that sends Louis right over
the edge, unable to hold out any longer. His lips form the revered
shape of Harry’s name, moaned out in utter veneration, exhaled with
pure love as he casts his head all the way back and rides the intense
rippling waves of his orgasm, coming into Harry’s hand.
It doesn’t take many more moments for Harry to follow suit, seeming
to be overwhelmed by the sheer sound of Louis finishing, clenching
down around him. With a final thrust, Harry’s muscles tense as he
comes inside Louis, fervidly groaning his release. His frame essentially
collapses after that, falling on top of Louis, their sweaty heaving chests,
sticking together. Louis is left positively wonderstruck, and he can’t
think of a time when he’s ever had sex that meant so much and felt so
unreal.
Louis keeps his arms locked around Harry’s back as they try to catch
their breath. Harry’s eyes are still closed, cheek resting upon Louis’
rising chest, biceps curled tightly to his waist as if he doesn’t want to
let go either. Louis doesn’t know how long they hold each other like
that, Harry wrapped around him while Louis absently cards his fingers
through Harry’s slightly damp hair, pressing gentle, repeated kisses to
the crown of his head.
“You’ve always made the most beautiful sounds.” Harry tells him
quietly.
Louis laughs a little, blissed out grin splayed across on his face.
“That’s my favorite of them all.”
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“My sex noises?” Louis laughs again in surprise, louder this time.
“Your laugh.” Harry drops his lips to the very center of Louis’ chest
before peeking up at him seriously. “It’s everything to me.”
Louis hums contently, eyes falling closed as his lips part into a soft
sleepy smile. Harry lifts up to kiss him, torsos sticky. He’s a mess, they
both are, but also too lazy and too comfortable to do anything about
it. Louis snakes both of his arms around Harry again as he settles
himself back down to Louis’ chest. And Louis can’t help but softly
sigh, loving the simple feeling of having Harry’s warm skin flush
against his own. He’s never felt more at peace.
“It feels like a dream...” Harry whispers, fingertips drawing gentle

patterns along Louis’ lower ribs. “A dream so good…I’m afraid to
wake up...”
“Like if you fall asleep, you’ll actually be waking up…and the dream
will end, and tomorrow will come too soon?” Louis whispers back,
fingers toying gently at his curls.
Harry nods his head slightly. “Yeah…”
Louis tilts Harry’s jaw up to meet his eyes, lightly tracing along the
outline of his face. “For as long as we’re together, I promise the dream
will never, ever end, love.”
||☤||
Louis’ alarm goes off promptly at four A.M. and although it feels like
he only slept for two minutes, it also feels good not to wake up alone
in his bed. It’s different; feeling a warm body aligned with his own,
arms and legs tangled up together between the sheets.
He shuts off the alarm quickly, not wanting to unnecessarily wake

Harry up. But when Louis twists back around, he finds Harry still fast
asleep, cuddled against Louis, curls splayed over the side of his face.
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Louis takes a moment to comb his fingers through Harry’s hair and all
he can think about is how much he doesn’t want to leave this bed, not
now, not ever. But he has a cordotomy scheduled for seven this
morning that he still needs to prep for and he’s also got a crap ton of
discharge charts to sign off on under his department from the days he
wasn’t at work.
With a small sigh, Louis carefully begins to unwrap Harry’s arms from
around his waist, attempting to untangle their legs. But Harry, whether
consciously or not, keeps protesting, relentlessly clinging all his limbs
to Louis’ body.
“I’m sorry, love.” Louis whispers, edging towards the side of the bed.
“Mm nooo…” Harry grumbles in his sleep with a cute disgruntled

frown indenting his brow. “Don’t leave me…”
Louis dips his head down and kisses the little indent. “I don’t want to.
I really don’t want to.”
Harry still refuses to let go, shaking his head sleepily with his eyes
closed and he really does look adorable. “Then don’t.”
“I have patients to follow up on and a surgery this morning.” Louis

tells him with another sigh, tracing the edges of Harry’s face. “But
you’re welcome to whatever’s in my kitchen—which is probably
nothing—shit, I’m sorry. I do have cereal though, I think?”
Harry hums contently, smiling with eyes remaining closed.
“Oh! There’s leftovers—your leftovers.” Louis remembers suddenly.

“You’re welcome to your leftovers.”
Harry’s smile deepens along with his dimple. “Oooh, what a treat.”
“I know. I’m really spoiling you, aren’t I?” Louis jokes, making a
mental note to go shopping this week.
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“Stay.” Harry whispers, cracking his eyes open just enough for Louis’
to catch the freshly awakened green of his irises. “Eat leftovers in bed
with me.”
He makes it sound all too appealing, with the graveled deepness of his
voice that still manages to sound so soft and the relaxed earnestness
in his gaze. It’s so appealing that parts of Louis have already begun to
give in, leaning closer to kiss him, morning breath and all. Harry’s skin
is warm to the touch, still naked and soft against Louis’. Everything
about him is so lovely, Louis swears he could stay like this forever.
“Stay…” Harry repeats quietly against Louis’ lips, lying face to face
with his fingers coming to rest on Louis’ bare back.
Louis pouts a bit, his resolve dwindling the longer he lies here. “Stop
asking me to stay, it’s unfair because you know I can’t.”
“I know, but I thought I should at least try.” Harry hums, arms

refusing to relinquish their strong hold around Louis’ frame as he
closes his eyes again.
Louis has already been absent from work for the past four days and
his department isn’t going to run itself, his colleagues can only cover
for him for so long. He can only imagine how many voicemails and
emails he has waiting for him by now. It’s making him both tired and
anxious just thinking about it.
“Ok you’ve gotta let me go, I’ll be late.” Louis pulls back, cupping
Harry’s displeased face, eyes still closed as he drifts in and out of sleep.
“You don’t have to leave, I’ll be back in a few hours. I only have one
surgery today and it’s not a long one.”
Harry nods blearily and it seems like he’s nearly fallen right back into
the folds of sleep.
“Sleep tight, I love you.” Louis whispers and it feels so good to say it
freely. Harry sleepily mumbles the words back to him under his
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incognizant breath and Louis smiles softly. He drops a final kiss to the
crown of Harry’s head before ducking off to the bathroom for a quick
shower.
||✚||
It wasn’t hard for Harry to fall back asleep, Louis’ bed is incredibly
comfy and it smells just like him. And he probably would have stayed
asleep if it wasn’t for the presence of a very needy dog pawing at his
hands to wake him up. When that doesn’t exactly work, Benny jumps
right onto the bed, licking Harry’s face.
“Alright, alright, I’m up.” Harry giggles, blindly petting the pup’s head.
“Good morning to you too, Benedict.”
Benedict drops himself completely in Harry’s lap, ready to soak up any

and all attention he can. And Harry gives it to him gladly, rubbing his
tummy and scratching behind his ears, even saying nonsense words to
him. Benedict absolutely loves it though, how could he not when he’s
such a big, fluffy baby. Harry really did miss him.
After a while Benedict suddenly hops off of the bed and runs down
the hall, something that causes Harry to frown in confusion. But he
doesn’t think too much about it because Benny has always been weird.
It’s not until Benedict returns with a leash hanging from his mouth
that Harry begins to understand what his dog is really after.
“Benedict, I don’t know what Louis does with you every morning, but
I am not up for a run right now.” Harry tells him, shaking his head. All
he really wants to do is stay in bed and think about the next time Louis
will be in it with him.
Last night was…everything.
Like breathing for the first time in his life, like nothing else before ever
even mattered—that may all sound ridiculously melodramatic, but
Harry doesn’t care in the slightest because he’s so deeply in love with
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Louis, properly gone for him. His heart sings a continuous outpouring
of love for one man.
Benedict barks once at Harry in warning, shaking him right out of his
drifting, overly romantic thoughts.
“Benny, a run is not happening, ok?” Harry repeats. “If you’d like to
try a nice walk or something, I’m your guy.”
Benedict very much did not want to go for a walk and he made that
known from the very moment his paws hit the sidewalk. Determined
to get Harry up to Louis’ speed, Benedict ran as fast as his old little
heart could take, which was pretty damn fast, dragging Harry right
along. And Harry, in accordance with his poor unprepared legs, regrets
the second he ever decided to leave Louis’ bed.
||☤||
When Louis gets back home from the hospital a little past noon, Harry
isn’t in bed anymore, not that Louis expected him to be, it’s been
nearly nine hours since Louis left him there. But his bedroom isn’t
completely alone, there’s a small note left on the bedside table.
L,
As much as I’d love to lie in your bed forever, I’ve decided it probably isn’t the most
responsible thing to do with my time. I’ve gone to the hospital to spend time with
Avery for a bit, maybe I’ll see you there. But if not, I’ll certainly see you later.
Back soon.
I love you xx H
P.S. I don’t know how you run with Benedict every day, he’s so fucking fast. I
was not prepared.
849
Louis smiles as he reads it several times over, absently biting on his
lower lip. It’s such a Harry thing to do, leave a note. Texting exists and
is probably far more efficient, but Harry is still the kind of person who
leaves little handwritten notes and it’s just so endearing.
Sadly, he didn’t get to see Harry at the hospital. Avery was the very
first patient he rounded on, as she usually is, and he spent a good
amount of time hanging out with her long before Harry probably even
woke up.
Louis places the note back down on his bedside table and then moves
to start busying himself with cleaning up the mess from last night.
Except, he soon realizes there is no mess from last night because Harry
has cleaned up everything from the dishes in the kitchen to washing
the soiled linens of Louis’ bed.
It has Louis smiling to himself yet again and it’s honestly starting to
get ridiculous how giddy and fond and soft Harry keeps making him.
And the man isn’t even here right now! God, Louis needs to get a grip,
but truthfully, he doesn’t really care to. Not when he feels this good.
He pulls out his phone and gets ready to send Harry a lengthy thank
you message, when Louis hears a knock at the front door.
Louis opens the door and giggles to himself when he finds Harry
leaning against the doorframe. “Did you lose your key already?”
“No…” Harry is grinning at him like he has a secret or something.

“It’s just that I gotta do this right.”
“Do what right?”
Harry clears his throat, moving his hand from behind his back to
present Louis with a lovely bouquet of fresh cut roses, ruby red and
gorgeous. “Louis Tomlinson, will you do me the honor of going out
on a date with me?”
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“Oh my god.” A slow grin grows on Louis’ face as he takes the
bouquet. “Are you, Harry Styles, courting me?”
“A little.” Harry smiles stupidly and his dimples only get deeper.
“Yeah…maybe…”
Louis leans in like he’s revealing his own secret, cupping a hand to his
mouth as he whispers loudly. “You do realize we already slept
together, right? Mere hours ago?”
“Yes, obviously.” Harry cheeks flourish with color. “But that doesn’t
mean that I would ever miss out on a chance to take you out on our
first official date and woo you.”
“I think I’m down to be wooed.” Louis ponders with a slow

considering nod.
“That’s a yes?”
“That’s a yes.” Louis nods his head once again, unable to keep the wide
smile off of his face.
“He said yes! I’ve got a date!” Harry turns around to boisterously shout
at the unassuming neighborhood, exaggeratedly fist pumping like he’s
won the lottery or something. And it makes Louis laugh behind the
palm of his hand because he’s such an endearing dork and Louis is so
in love with him. “Pick you up at five?”
“Oh, this is quite official isn’t it?” Louis asks, impressed. “Picking me
up and everything, how gentlemanly.”
“Yes.” Harry insists, widening his eyes. “Come on, Lou, get with it.
I’m seriously courting you.”
Louis laughs again fondly. “Is there a dress code too?”
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“Good question.” Harry smirks, narrowing his eyes in serious
deliberation. “Very good question.”
“One awaiting an answer.”
“Comfy.” Harry answers simply with a shrug.
Louis raises an eyebrow. “Comfy?”
“Mhmm. The comfiest of comfy clothes.” Harry nods once,

knowingly. “That’s the dress code.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a comfy first date. I’m excited.” Louis leans
in closer, attempting to kiss him, but Harry dodges right out of the
way.
“No, don’t kiss me.”
“Harry. What.” Louis deadpans, face flat and confused.
Harry holds his hands up, putting notable distance between them.
“Not before our date.”
“What the fuck, Harry?” Louis finds himself laughing as he always

seems to when it comes to Harry. “We literally just had sex last night!
And now you won’t even kiss me.”
“What part of seriously courting do you not understand?”
“All of it, to be honest.” Louis admits. “I’m genuinely confused by

whatever that means.”
Harry grins, winking. “Good, that’s all a part of my master plan to

seduce you.”
Louis only laughs even harder. “And again I say, what the fuck, Harry.”
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Harry laughs along with him. “Seduction is an art form, you know.”
“God, you’re so weird.” Louis smiles fondly.
||✚||
Harry makes sure to show up at Louis’ doorstep on time, better than

on time actually. He’s quite a bit early and he’s also antsy, a tendency
he often has when he’s really nervous or excited. In this case, Harry is
beyond excited, unable to think about much else but his very first date
with Louis.
True to his word, Harry is dressed in his finest. And by finest he

obviously means, his most comfy set of black Nike joggers. Louis
might have thought he was joking about the whole comfy thing, but
he was two hundred percent serious. Tonight, they are going to have
the most comfortable, relaxed first date to ever exist.
“More flowers?” Louis smiles warmly as Harry presents him with yet
another colorful arrangement.
“Yes, get used to it.” Harry pecks his cheek lightly.
“I think I’m going to need to invest in more vases or something.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“I’ve got the ones from dinner last night, and the ones from this
afternoon and now these.” Louis lists as though it’s some kind of
burden, but Harry can already tell that he loves it.
“And who knows you may have more by the end of the night.” Harry
winks. “I’m going to shower you in flowers.”
Louis’ cheeks blush as pink as the delicate roses he’s holding, and he
drops his gaze down for a moment. All Harry can do is stare at how
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his long eyelashes seem to always gracefully dust his cheekbones. He’s
mesmerizing and perfect and Harry is so utterly gone for him.
“Well, how do I look?” Louis asks, gesturing to his own jogger

ensemble in a dark grey. “This is as comfy as I can reasonably manage.”
“You look amazing.” Harry answers without needing to think about it.
“I just love a man in grey sweatpants.”
Louis smirks, tilting his head. “I can’t tell if that was genuine or just a
horny joke.”
“Why can’t it be both?”
Louis shakes his head, failing to hide his fond smile. “Alright H, so
what do you have planned for our first date?”
“We are going to let the road lead us.” Harry replies simply.
“No plans?”
“Nope.”
Louis narrows his eyes as he thinks about it. “So our first official date
has no official plans.”
“I guess you could say that, but it’s a planned unplanned date.” Harry
explains. “I put a lot of thought into this, it’s premeditated.”
“Premeditated.” Louis grins.
“Mhmm, but in a way that’s uninhibited. Just you and me on the open
road with the top down and the setting sun on the horizon.”
“Alright then, count me in.” Louis gives him a smile like he’s ready for
any and everything and it’s just the answer Harry hoped for.
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And it seems to become perfectly clear to Louis from the second they
walk out onto the street that Harry really did put a great deal of thought
into this date.
“Oh my god, Harry?” Louis looks back at Harry in complete surprise.

“Where the hell did you find that?”
It’s a pristine sky blue 1965 convertible mustang and Harry spent all
afternoon tracking it down to rent for their date. The top is already
folded down, revealing the refurbished cream-colored leather
upholstery lining the inside. Harry just figured that if they were going
to take a drive to who knows where, they might as well do it in a bit of
style. And besides, he’s always wanted to drive one. What better
opportunity than their first date?
“I have my ways.” Harry shrugs nonchalantly, although in reality he

busted his ass hunting this car down. It’s not as easy as he expected to
find a vintage convertible in such short notice. But once Louis said yes
to his date proposal, Harry knew he would haul ass to make it perfect.
“I’ll admit, I’m no expert on cars or anything, but that’s pretty sick.”
“Right?” Harry swings open the passenger side door for Louis to get
in.
“I love it already.” Louis grins as he climbs inside.
Harry gets in on the driver’s side, turning towards Louis as they get
settled in. “Alright so, we’ve got a full tank of gas, a picnic basket full
of the best snacks, essentially the crème de la crème of junky comfort
food.” He describes animatedly, and it already has Louis giving him
the softest smile. “Then we’ve got a ton of different playlists curated
by yours truly to accommodate any mood we might have on our
journey. And last but certainly not least…a winter coat.”
Louis laughs as Harry pulls a thick parka from the back seat. “Is that
for me?”
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“Yeah, I mean, the top is down and it’s supposed to be 49 degrees
tonight, so you might get a bit breezy.”
Louis smiles wide, completely amused.
“But it’s actually my coat so it’s also something for you to steal.” Harry
adds knowingly.
“You thought of everything didn’t you?” Louis continues grinning,

leaning over the center console to the driver’s side of the car to kiss
him appreciatively. Which Harry completely allows this time around.
“We can only hope. After all, it is an unplanned planned date.” Harry
smiles against his lips. “Ready to take a drive with me?”
“Born ready.”
And so they take a drive to nowhere in particular, determined to enjoy

the journey of getting to know each other again. They know each other
well, but they’ve each missed so much in each other’s lives over the
years and they’ve promised to be open and honest about it all from the
highest points to the very lowest. The conversation never stops as is
custom for them, never reaching a dull point or awkward pause.
Louis tells Harry all about how he became The Head of Neuro at
SSMC, going through the various turning points of his career. He talks
about his favorite patients, the ones that touched his heart, the ones
that changed his outlook on life, the ones that made him better. And
Harry will ask questions from time to time, wanting to know
everything Louis is willing to share. Harry keeps a hand on Louis’ knee
as he drives, unconsciously running along his thigh as Louis talks.
Louis tells him all about his three best friends and how no matter how
much he fights them, they never stop caring and mothering over him.
And he fills Harry in on each of his friends’ ridiculous roller-coaster
love lives that have been up and down over the years, especially Liam
and Zayn. Lastly, Louis tells Harry the full story of how he delivered a
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baby earlier this week and how amazing Frankie is and how much he
will absolutely love her when he meets her.
Louis takes over driving when it’s Harry’s turn to talk, and he does end
up putting on Harry’s jacket, the breeze getting to him as Harry knew
it would. Harry tells Louis about his time in Los Angeles and how he
became the lead marketing consultant for a start-up business. It can be
demanding sometimes, depending on the client he’s working with, but
he really enjoys it and he’s good at it. Harry of course talks about Avery
for a while, because she is his entire life, everything he does, he does
for her.
They talk about things that aren’t as comfortable too, like how Harry
got with Jesse and how much of himself he’d been ignoring all those
years. Louis holds his hand as Harry describes how awful and shocking
it was to find Jesse cheating on him, and how he still can’t help but
think about it whenever he sets foot in his bedroom. He can’t sleep in
there at all anymore, and if he does sleep at his house it’s usually in
Avery’s bed, if not the guest room.
Louis threatens to turn the car around, so they can go find Jesse and
“fuck up that dickhead’s life” and Harry thinks he is joking, but maybe
not because Louis reveals exactly how much he hated Jesse from the
moment he met him. Not that Harry is surprised, if the roles were
somehow reversed, Harry can’t imagine himself treating Jesse even as
politely as Louis tried to.
Harry gets back in the driver’s seat and they decide to take a break
from talking in favor of popping in one of Harry’s mixtapes and
belting out random songs together. They laugh a lot. Probably too
much, to the point where Harry’s cheeks ache from smiling so hard
and his sides burn from all of their dumb jokes that never seem to stop
coming. But it’s so good to know that the banter between them still
flows just as easily as it did a decade ago. Their odd niche of humor
still comes so naturally. Being together feels so comfortable; it’s right
and just so easy.
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After three hours of talking and laughing, they pass a sign advertising
a drive-in movie theater.
“Should we?” Harry wonders, glancing to Louis.
“Of course we should.” Louis answers without hesitation. “Isn’t that

what letting the road lead us is all about?”
“You’re right.” Harry nods decisively. “Drive in movie it is.”
Harry parks the car and they both climb into the back seat, Harry
settling in between Louis’ legs with a blanket thrown over their bodies.
It’s an old movie, probably as old as the car they’re sitting in and there
is hardly anyone else in the carpark, making it feel like it’s all just for
them.
The movie has only been rolling for all of five minutes and Louis is
already leaving gentle kisses behind Harry’s ears. It’s slow and
purposeless how he moves his lips along his skin, just simple touches
of affection.
“Excuse me, can’t you see that I am trying to watch the movie?” Harry
twists around a little to peek back at Louis.
“No, you’re not…” Louis whispers knowingly, nosing along the lines
of Harry’s neck, right over his pulse points.
“Yes, I am.” Harry lies, tilting his head up, only proving Louis’ point
by exposing more of his neck for him.
Louis seems to love sucking marks along the grooves of Harry’s skin,
taking pride in watching his body react to every deliberate move he
makes. Harry knows his neck is going to be littered with little purpling
love bites in the morning, but he likes the idea of being marked by
Louis.
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Under the blanket, Louis’ hand gradually slides down Harry’s abs,
reaching towards the waistband of his joggers, but before Louis can
even get anywhere, Harry smacks his hand away.
“It’s our first date!” Harry reprimands, as though genuinely appalled.
Louis smiles against Harry’s shoulder. “As if we’re sixteen and I

promised your parents that I’d bring you home by nine without a single
hair out of place.”
Harry giggles. “Exactly like that. Please respect my fictional parents’

wishes to protect my virtue.”
Louis laughs hard, always so amused by the dumb shit Harry says. But
it’s just the reaction Harry never stops craving and he can’t help but
bathe in the warm, full sound of his laugh. “Fuck, I really love you, H.
Like a lot.”
“I love hearing you say that. Like a lot.” Harry melts back against Louis
contently. “And I love you, like a lot too.”
“I love you.” Louis whispers again, serious this time as his gentle lips
brush against the lobes of Harry’s ears.
It gives Harry chills, goosebumps prickling his sensitive skin, causing

the hairs of his neck to stand up. And all he wants is to hear Louis tell
him that over and over again, until nothing else even matters anymore.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
||☤||
“Walking me to my door and everything.” Louis grins, hand in hand

with Harry as they approach his house. It’s nearing two A.M. already
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and Louis’ doesn’t even know where the time went. “Again, what a
gentleman.”
“Well, I’m trying to get lucky, so...” Harry shrugs nonchalantly.
Louis giggles, pulling Harry’s hand up the front porch steps. He

unlocks the door and then slowly turns back towards Harry. “Do you
want to come inside?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Harry hovers closer to him, eyeing Louis’ lips.
“Who says our date has to end right here?”
“I don’t know your little courting rules. It could break tradition or

something.” Louis teases, toying with the drawstrings of Harry’s
hoodie.
“Fuck tradition.” Harry grunts suddenly, pressing Louis against the

door without restraint.
“Gladly.” Louis seals his lips to Harry’s, winding the drawstrings

around his hands only to walk them backwards into the house, tugging
Harry inside. “I’ve been waiting all night for you to say that.”
They spent the entire evening together all the way to the wee morning
hours and yet they still don’t want it to end. They end up taking a bath
together, Louis insisting on contributing something to their first date
by spending twenty minutes strategically placing candles until the
entire master bathroom is illumed only by candlelight. Harry loves it
of course, and they make a shameless mess of lavender scented bath
water when Louis fucks Harry along the smooth porcelain of the tub.
Their skin is quickly becoming pruned from how long they’ve been sat
in this tub, but neither of them seem to care, perfectly comfortable and
content in each other’s arms. Louis sits in between Harry’s legs, eyes
closed with his head lulled all the way back against the divot of his
shoulder as Harry trails adorning kisses down his wet neck to the dips
of his collarbones.
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Harry lifts his arms from the water to drape around Louis’ chest,
dropping his chin down to rest on Louis’ right shoulder. “Louis?”
“Hmm?”
“So I know this is technically only our first date and I look forward to
many more but—”
“Yes.” Louis interjects simply, not even opening his eyes.
“There wasn’t even a question in my sentence yet.” Harry laughs

against Louis’ temple.
Louis turns around in Harry’s lap, sloshing water around until their
naked chests are aligned together. “Will I be your boyfriend? Yes.” He
leans in to peck Harry’s lips amorously, smiling into the kiss.
Harry pulls a stupid face, scrunching up his features at Louis.

“Actually, um…this is a bit awkward, I was going to ask if you would
write me a prescription, because good healthcare is so hard to come
by these days and—”
“Using me for my ability to write pharmaceutical scripts, I should have

known.” Louis jokes, trying to hold back his laugh. “What’ll it be this
time?”
“Viagra.” Harry can’t even keep a straight face as he says it.
Louis lets his head completely drop down against Harry’s shoulder as
he bursts into laughter. In fact, he laughs so hard that he snorts, which
only makes him laugh harder.
“I know I’m young and healthy, but this guy I’m seeing is wearing me
out already. He’s insatiable! He expects so much, I don’t know if I’ll
make it much longer without the help of that sweet, little blue pill.”
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“Oh my god, stop! You idiot.” Louis can’t stop laughing, bursting into
another round of fond giggles, swatting Harry’s bare chest.
Harry laughs proudly at his own joke, sticking his tongue out playfully.
“An idiot that is now your boyfriend.” He lowers his lips to wetly
mouth along Louis’ jawline, hands gradually inching down from his
waist to cup the cheeks of his ass, spreading them apart enough for his
fingers to graze over his hole.
Louis sighs blissfully against Harry’s purposeful touch, fingers toying

with the short wet hairs at the nape of his neck. He’s truly amazed
when his dick twitches once again in interest, seeming to have such a
narrow refractory period. Louis has to be at work in just a few hours
but somehow, as reckless as it sounds, he can’t seem to give a fuck
about that right now. He can sleep when he’s dead. “Mmm…well
come on then, boyfriend…take me to bed and prove you know how
to actually use that tongue of yours.”
Harry pulls back with a questioning frown. “I’m sorry, but was that a
yes to writing me a prescription or…”
“I hate you.” Louis cackles.
||☤||
“Sooo.” Niall slides in next to Louis, draping his arm over his shoulder
as he begins staring at his profile intently.
“Hmm—what?” Louis blinks, startled back into sipping on his coffee

that he forgot he was holding. In the past forty-eight hours, he’s
probably only slept a combined total of five hours thanks to his now
boyfriend. And he’s sore, the good kind of sore though. The kind that
sends tingles down his spine every time he moves and reminds him
exactly what he has to look forward to the next time.
And that’s why Louis is currently slacking off at the nurses’ station,
sipping on his coffee while shamelessly daydreaming about the next
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time he’ll get to see Harry. Just simply thinking about him makes Louis
smile and he doesn’t know when he became this sappy, nauseating
person who sits and dotes on their partner all day, but he’s starting to
just embrace it.
“I want to hear everything.”
“Everything about…?”
“Oh, don’t be coy, Lou.” Niall gives him a flat look. “You’ve been
keeping this story from me. A story you owe me after listening to you
for the past I don’t know how many years.”
“What story?” Louis smiles behind his coffee cup.
“Don’t do this, Tomlinson. Don’t play this game.” Niall warns

seriously. “I may be a nice, friendly, kid doctor, but I’m resourceful,
ok. I will get the truth I deserve.”
Liam and Zayn walk up to the station together, each of their faces
softening when they spot Louis.
Zayn doesn’t hesitate to drag Louis by his shoulders into a tight

embrace. “Long time no see, Tomlinson.”
“Oh, it’s so good to see you, Louis.” Liam smiles warmly, pulling Louis
into his own arms next.
“Where is my hug?” Niall frowns, so Louis transitions into another set

of open arms.
He’s being passed around like a ragdoll between his friends, but
somehow he doesn’t quite mind it so much. “Missed you, lads.”
“You look so much better since the last time I saw you.”
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The last time they saw him, Louis was two seconds from breaking all
the way down in the imaging room, fighting himself as hard as his
persistent tears. He was at the end of his rope, frazzled and exhausted
and emotional. The sheer worry on their faces that day, told Louis
everything he needed to know about how poorly he looked. Leaving
Seattle that afternoon was probably the best thing he could have done.
Louis offers a shy smile, shrugging. “I feel really good, yeah…”
“I was just trying to get him to tell me about Harry and where he’s
been all this time.” Niall explains.
Zayn nods. “Oh yes, I think we are all more than entitled to that story.”
“Right?” Niall agrees right away. “That’s exactly what I said Z.”
“Honestly, I found a grey hair the other day and I know for a fact it
was caused by all the stress Louis has put me through over the years.”
Liam claims.
“Have you considered that it’s probably from the stress of your
career?” Louis offers.
“Uh no sorry. It was you.” Liam teases lightly, arm slung over Louis’
shoulder. “My career doesn’t stress me out half as much as you do.”
“Now tell us about Harry.” Zayn practically demands, clearly growing

impatient.
“Spill it.” Niall insists at his side.
“Hurry up, Lou seriously.” Liam urges next. “I want to hear it before
my next surgery.”
Louis sighs. “You’re all seriously such gossips.”
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Zayn rolls his eyes. “You say that like we don’t already know.”
“You know you want to tell us.” Niall encourages, leaning in with
narrowed eyes. “We know you’re dying to tell someone. We know
you.”
“Fine.” Louis exhales heavily as if it’s so much work for him to talk
about Harry. It’s quite the opposite and he isn’t fooling anyone, he
could talk about Harry for days on end and not once tire from it. “Well,
how much do you want to know?”
“All of it! I want to feel like I’m literally there watching it happen scene
by scene.” Niall describes.
“You know there are these things called movies? And basically, you
watch other people act out really dramatic stories and—”
“Shut up, you ass.”
Louis laughs to himself, always getting a kick out of teasing Niall.
“Louis!” All three of his friends give him the exact same look of utter
exasperation.
“Ok, ok, ok.” Louis holds his hands up in surrender. “God…”
Louis goes through the whole story as it were, telling his best friends
all about the conference he never made it to. About his near-death
experience when he met Frankie in the middle of nowhere and
somehow ended up delivering her baby. He explains how confused he
was up until that point and how the experience put things in
perspective for him and gave him the push he needed to finally admit
his feelings for Harry. Louis admits that yes, he did cry when he told
Harry and no, it wasn’t embarrassing, and he doesn’t regret a thing
about it. He probably blushes a million times when he describes how
Harry surprised him with the sweetest romantic dinner and how they
ended up in their meadow dancing under the moonlight, which led
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right into the emotional but unforgettable first time they had. And then
there was their first date when Harry properly courted him and how
easy and relaxed and comfortable the whole night was. Louis can’t help
but talk about how often Harry makes him laugh and how they can’t
seem to keep their hands off each other for more than two minutes at
a time which more often than not leads to them having sex again and
again and again and again…
Louis should probably be far more exhausted than he actually feels,

but he’s high on the lingering feeling, the residual aftermath of it all.
When he’s finished, he feels like he’s been talking nonstop and he
doubts they’re even listening to him drone on anymore. But it’s quite
the opposite, Niall pulls him right in for a bone-crushing hug,
squeezing him so tight, Louis nearly loses feeling in his arms. “Aww
Louis, I’m so happy for you. You deserve to be loved.”
Louis’ face colors up with a slight blush and it’s really nice to have the
support of his best friends. They’ve really been there for him through
thick and thin, volunteering themselves for every emotional roller-
coaster Louis has thrown at them and if he says it every day till he dies,
it won’t make it any less true, but Louis swears he loves each of them
more than words can say.
“You should see your face when you talk about him, Lou.” Zayn
describes. “It’s almost embarrassing.”
“It’s like…I don’t mind it?” Louis smiles, shrugging.
Liam’s eyes are soft and genuine. “I’m really glad you both finally got
your acts together. It was about time.”
“Dude, I remember when we first met Harry and I asked him if he and
Louis were fucking.” Zayn starts cackling to himself. “I basically
predicted the future.”
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“I hated you for that.” Louis frowns. “I was honestly so fucking
embarrassed by you.”
“I know, it was hilarious.” Zayn continues to laugh before sighing

contently. “Ahh, good times.”
||☤||
“Well don’t you look refreshed.” Frankie smirks as Louis walks into her
room with an evaluation and small stack of discharge forms.
“I have no idea what you mean, I’ve hardly slept since the last time I
talked to you.”
“Not that kind of refreshed. Loved up suits you.” Frankie smiles

knowingly, looking him over fully. “You’re literally glowing, I swear to
god.”
Louis sighs, biting back a smile. It’s like everywhere he goes, all of his
friends feel the need to talk about how happy he looks, and Louis
wants to be annoyed but he physically can’t be. “Alright, yeah,
enough.”
“It’s true! Have you seen yourself recently? Harry has really done a
number on you.”
Louis’ face colors instantly, but he shakes his head and determinedly
moves on with why he actually came here. “Ok, so I need to assess
your post-op progress and evaluate you for discharge. Have you been
experiencing any pain or—”
But Frankie doesn’t even let him finish before going right back to
talking about Harry. “I want to meet him, Lou! You promised me. It’s
literally the only reason I’m in Seattle.”
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Louis grins at her. “Frankie, you’re in Seattle because I’m your doctor
and I transferred you here for monitoring.”
“No, I’m in Seattle because I needed to make sure my friend Louis

gets his happy ending with Harry, who I still need to meet. Now.”
Frankie emphasizes seriously as she sits up. “If you don’t bring him in
here, I’m going to get up and go find him myself. He’s somewhere in
the building, I’m sure.”
Louis smiles, shaking his head fondly at her. “You’ll meet him I
promise.”
“I’ve heard that before.” Frankie rolls her eyes.
“Ok, answer these questions and sign these discharge forms and I’ll
bring him in here.”
Frankie narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Are you bullshitting me?”
“What? I never bullshit.” Louis denies, fighting a smirk.
“That’s bullshit!” Frankie laughs, whacking his forearm lightly.
“Ok, maybe…but I’m serious, alright?” Louis assures. “Let’s get you
discharged and then I swear on my godson’s life that you’ll meet
Harry.”
“If you swear on my baby and break that promise, I’ll kill you.” Frankie
states seriously, looking right into his eyes dead on.
“I know that. So obviously I’m not gonna break it.”
“Fine.” Frankie huffs, holding her hand out. “Ask your dumb
questions and give me the paperwork to sign.”
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Louis smirks triumphantly, handing her the forms. He goes through
his neuro assessment, evaluating her cranial nerve functioning one by
one. He makes sure to emphasize how she needs to take it easy these
next few weeks, explaining that being discharged doesn’t mean her
body is completely healed. He doesn’t want her to overdo it too
quickly, which is something she obviously would do, knowing her.
Lastly, Louis goes over all the medications he’s prescribing her for pain
and discomfort, stressing that she call him if she has any symptoms or
adverse effects.
“Alright, that about does it. I can officially discharge you from my
service. You’ll just need to be discharged from OB/GYN as well and
then you’ll be home free.” Louis announces, scribbling his signature at
the very bottom of the form. “How’s the baby, by the way?”
“So cute, oh my god. I’m so in love with him.” Frankie gushes, beaming
wide. “Have you seen him? David and I really made one adorable kid.”
“I saw him the other day actually. He’s so lovely, he has your nose.”
Louis noticed it right away when he went to see baby Louis, he also
has the makings of tiny dimples.
“I know, and he has David’s blue eyes. He’s perfect.” Frankie dotes
softly. “Ok, ok— enough about my adorable baby. Where is your
adorable boyfriend? Where is he?”
“How do you know he’s my boyfriend now?”
“Because you look like that.” Frankie answers obviously as if it’s not
really much of a question at all. “Now please, Lou! Go get the man!”
Louis sighs, but still ends up smiling again as he moves toward the
door. “Calm down, love. I’m going!”
“Lou, you better come right back here with him or I swear to god—”
“I will! Fuck...” Louis promises yet again. God, she’s like an annoying
sister who won’t rest until her wishes are granted. But it’s really nice
869
that she supports him and genuinely seems to care so much about him,
she just has a demanding sisterly way of showing it.
It turns out to be perfect timing actually, because Avery is getting a

diagnostic test done in the lab and Harry is as free as can be. They walk
into Frankie’s hospital room together and she’s not in her bed as Louis
left her, instead she’s right by the door like some kind of goon, and
Louis hates her—but he also loves her. Louis can’t even open his
mouth to introduce her to Harry, because Frankie takes matters right
into her own hands, which he probably should have expected.
“Harry!” She throws her arms around his body, hugging him right
away as if she’s known him her entire life. “Aww you have no idea how
much I wanted to meet you."
“Too much, I’d say. Way too fucking much.” Louis rolls his eyes,
trying to be annoyed but he’s sorta, kinda a little bit endeared.
“Honestly H, she’s been obsessed with you since I told her you existed
in my life. Which I think you will agree is weird.”
“Um, I’m not going to apologize for wanting you to be happy.”

Frankie rolls her eyes back at him exaggeratedly to prove a point. “Oh
my fuck, but look at us, Harry!” She squeals, clapping her hands right
to his face. “You’re like my mirror image. Obviously, we are going to
be best friends.”
Harry beams down at Frankie, looking completely enchanted by her.

“How can you be so sure?”
“Have you seen your face in relation to my face? How could we not
be besties? Louis, why didn’t you tell me that Harry could be my evil
twin?”
“Hey, why do I have to be the evil one?” Harry pouts slightly.
“Because you’re a man and men are inherently evil.” Frankie says as if
it’s obvious.
870
Harry laughs, turning over his shoulder to Louis. “I love her?”
“She’s special isn’t she.” Louis grins.
“But Lou, seriously you should have told me.” Frankie says again,
slipping her arm around Harry’s middle. “Harry is like a dream come
true. I always wanted a twin growing up.”
“Aww, me too. People always said my sister and I could have been
twins. But I never completely saw it...not really...” Harry starts, and
Louis can practically feel him about to go off on a random tangent
“And then one time…when I was in Bordeaux, France, I met this one
guy and we looked seriously alike, it was trippy.”
“Oh my god—I’m a chef and I finished culinary school in France, near

there!” Frankie gasps with wide eyes, looking up to him excitedly.
“Parlez-vous françias?”
Harry makes the exact same excited face. “Oui!”
And that sends them into a complete fit, both of them squealing before
going back and forth like long lost friends in French. Louis watches
them chat and giggle with each other, without a single clue as to what
on earth they are talking about. But they’re both so animated and
expressive, it’s sort of amusing to watch. But after five minutes, he has
to clear his throat just to remind them that he still exists.
“Oh, I’m sorry Lou, we didn’t mean to exclude you.”
“He can’t be left out.” Frankie teases.
“That’s not true.” Louis frowns a little. “I actually just wanted to say
that I have to get back to work so…”
“Oh ok, bye babe.” Harry presses a brief kiss to his cheek. “Have a
good day.”
871
And then they go right back to chatting incessantly with each other
animatedly, paying Louis no further mind. Louis may have just created
two dimpled green-eyed twin monsters.
||☤||
“We should tell Avery, right?” Harry asks, processing out loud as he
pushes around his cafeteria grade Caesar salad.
Louis met Harry for lunch out on the hospital courtyard. He’s been
crazy busy all week since getting back into the full swing of work,
overflooded with a backlog of patients. And because of that, they
haven’t had the chance to go on any more dates together, so Louis has
been meeting Harry whenever he has a free moment at random times
throughout the day.
“Like officially…she should know about us…” Harry continues

thinking out loud. “Right?”
“Yeah, I think she should.” Louis nods agreeably, pouring a handful

of Skittles into his palm. Yes, he probably should be eating a real meal,
and Harry has already told him as much, but Skittles are and will always
be his favorite in between surgery snack. “I mean we’re in a
relationship now, I think that warrants a conversation.”
“You’re right.” Harry decides, going back and forth with himself. “It’s
not too soon though?”
“Harry, love, she’s a smart girl. She probably already knows.” Louis
says next. Honestly, they are almost definitely overthinking this whole
thing for no reason. Avery knew from the moment she first met Louis
again that Harry knew him from the past. She’s an observant girl, she’s
certainly figured out by now that he and Harry are officially boyfriends.
“Yeah...probably…that’s true…yeah…” Harry agrees again, before

presenting yet another question. “Ok, but what exactly are we telling
her? Nothing is really changing for her, right?”
872
“No, nothing is changing for her.” Louis assures. “We don’t want to
overwhelm her or anything.”
“Exactly, because too many changes could be stressful. And she’s

already been through so much stress this year.”
“I know, yeah.” Louis nods. “We’ll just tell her that we’re dating and
that we love her and we aren’t going to make any big changes or
anything.”
“Ok.” Harry agrees, exhaling heavily as he pushes around the same

crouton in his salad container. “That sounds good...”
“Good.” Louis nods, finishing the last of his candy.
Harry bites his lip for a moment before turning to Louis again. “Can
we do it now?”
“You want to tell her right now?” Louis questions in surprise.
“Yes, I really do because every time I see her, I almost say it on

accident and I have to keep catching myself and it's so exhausting and
I just can’t take it anymore, Lou.” Harry admits in a rush, sounding
unnecessarily stressed and nervous.
Louis stands up right away and takes Harry’s hand in his. “Come on,
let’s go.”
“Wait—Right now, right now?” Harry suddenly pales, even though he

just suggested it a second ago.
“Yes, Harry!” Louis smiles, finding him so adorable. “You just said
you wanted to do it.”
“Right, yeah...ok…yeah…” Harry nods his head repeatedly. “Let’s do

it, then.”
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“It’s really alright, love.” Louis reassures, squeezing Harry’s hand. “She
knows already, I’m sure of it. It’s no big deal.”
“You really think so?”
“Oh, babe, I would bet money on it, honestly.”
Harry follows Louis through the hospital corridors to Avery’s room

and they find Avery beading bracelets on the small couch in the corner.
She’s been feeling so much better recently that she hardly even stays
in the hospital bed anymore, much to the nurses’ exasperation.
“Hi Daddy, hi Louis!” Avery greets, sitting up on the couch when she
sees them.
“Hi Aves, how are you?”
“Really good!” Avery smiles, proudly holding up the lavender bracelet

she’s working on. “I’m making another bracelet for Nurse Julie to say
I’m sorry.”
“Avie, what did you do now?” Harry asks her, lips pursed.
“I got out of bed.” Avery admits, making a guilty expression.
“But love, you’re out of bed right now.” Louis points out, grinning.
“Shh, please don’t tell her.” Avery whispers seriously. “I’m just tired
of being in bed all the time.”
“Oh Avery.” Louis and Harry both sigh together.
But it’s sort of funny to Louis because her mother was the exact same
way. Whenever Gemma was feeling good, no one could keep her in
that bed unless she was literally restrained. Like mother, like daughter.
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“You really should listen to your nurses. It’s for your safety, Aves. Can
you please get back in your bed, love?”
Avery exhales heavily, letting out a heavy gust of annoyed breath.

“Fine.”
She gets up from the loveseat and climbs back into her hospital bed as
she’s told.
“Thank you.” Louis smiles at her appreciatively. He doesn’t want to

get her hopes up too soon, but with how well she’s been doing, he may
be able to discharge her any day now. He’s just waiting on the results
of a few more tests.
Louis and Harry sit on opposite sides of Avery’s bed, leaving her in
the middle between them. Harry glances over to Louis and Louis nods
at him encouragingly.
“Avery, baby, we want to talk to you about something.” Harry starts

out slowly.
“Ok.” Avery looks up at her dad expectantly. “What is it?”
Harry swallows, biting his lip a bit and Louis thinks it’s so cute how
nervous he gets about things like this. He has his daughter at such a
high priority and her happiness means everything to him.
“Avie…Louis and I are—”
“Getting married!” Avery bursts enthusiastically, finishing how she

thinks his sentence should end.
Harry and Louis both blush, glancing up at each other. Louis grins
over at him, finding it more amusing than anything else.
“Erm, not quite, Aves.” Louis smiles down at her. “But we are together
now, as a couple and we wanted you to know that.”
875
“We love you so much and we didn’t want to overwhelm you with
changes or anything like that.” Harry adds.
Avery looks back and forth between them, smiling wide. “Does that
mean that once I get discharged that I can come over and spend the
night and hang out with Benny and bake loads of cookies and watch
movies all night and have Louis’ tea and go places together like
shopping or to the beach or the park or Disneyland or—” She’s
rattling off things a mile a minute, talking so fast Louis doesn’t even
think she is keeping up with herself. But he’s endeared regardless.
“Anytime, little love.” Louis kisses her cheek adoringly.
She squeals, beaming excitedly like all her wishes have been granted
and that’s definitely the best reaction either of them could have hoped
for.
||☤||
It’s an exciting day. A rare kind of joyous, exciting day because after
all these long weeks filled with hopeless days and tireless nights, Avery
is finally being discharged from SSMC.
Every day Louis has been diligently reviewing her charts and scans and
conducting all sorts of diagnostic and cognitive tests and he’s
continually blown away each time by how well the virus that he surgical
injected into her brain has taken to her tumor. Or what’s left of her
tumor. From all the analysis and research Louis did beforehand, he
knew that if it ended up working, it would probably work fast, but he
couldn’t have hoped that it would ever work this fast.
At this rate, not only does she get to go home, she may not even need
an extra round of chemotherapy. It would be better if she didn’t need
it, because Louis is worried about the overall level of toxicity her body
is exposed to and he’d much rather not have to put her through
anything else. Instead, he has a plan to prescribe all her final
medication dosing through a regimen of capsules and tablets that she
876
can take at home. He’s going to monitor how she adjusts to the new
oral meds and if need be, they can always resort to chemo. But if not,
they can scale back, finish up her round of meds, and be done with it
all for fucking good.
Louis hasn’t told Harry yet, wanting to surprise him, but he’s eager to
see his reaction. Avery has been wanting to go home for so long, it’s
been a winding road of ups and downs, but the day has finally come,
and Louis couldn’t be more excited.
Louis goes into the patient room with Wesley at his side, closing the
heavy door behind them. Harry looks up from his book curiously,
clearly not expecting to see Louis right now.
“Look at you sitting in your bed. What a good patient you are, Avery.”
Louis teases, winking at her.
“Daddy made me stay today.” Avery grumbles sighing, as she crosses

her hands over her chest. “I’d much rather not be in this bed, if I had
my way.”
“Munchie, it’s just not safe for you to be jumping in and out of bed all
day.” Harry tells her, saying it as though he’s said it a thousand times
today alone. “There’s rules for a reason.”
Avery just sighs heavily again, looking like she’s been given some sort
of prison sentence.
“Well Aves, I do have some news for you that might make it a little
better.” Louis sits on the side of Avery’s bed as he typically does.
Avery stops frowning and meets Louis’ eyes. “Ok.”
“Dr. Wesley, would you like to do the honors please?” Louis requests,
she’s been here through each step of the way and he thinks it’s only
fitting that she announce the news.
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“Avery, I’m happy to inform you that according to your latest scans
and biopsy results, you are just about tumor free. Your tumor
continues to shrink and the current size of it is no longer a threat,
which means that you’re getting discharged today. Yay!” Charlie smiles
widely, genuinely happy for her patient. “And the best part is that you
won’t need to start another round of chemotherapy. You'll still need
to come in for routine checkups and we have a med regimen for you
to follow until all the cancer cells are gone or benign but—”
Harry engulfs Charlie in a body crushing hug before she can even
finish talking. His expression is emotional and teary eyed, but so very
happy and his smile makes Louis’ heart want to burst. “Thank you.”
Avery eyes widen in absolute disbelief, appearing stunned by the news

and she looks right to Louis for confirmation and he nods at her, an
uncontrollable smile spreading his lips apart.
“You get to go home, Aves.” Louis whispers to her softly.
He’s waited so long to be able to finally tell her that, knowing how
much she wanted it, how much her dad wanted it, fuck—how much
he wanted it too. And the beautifully relieved look on her face makes
every last thing so very worth it.
Avery lodges herself into his arms, face buried against his scrubs. Louis
wraps both of his own around her back, holding her with his chin
hooked over her shoulder and he can’t seem to stop smiling.
She pulls back, looking up at Louis again like she’s still a bit in shock,
like she somehow never expected him to actually say that, like she’d
still been somewhat doubtful and unbelieving even after her surgery,
even after how much better she’d been feeling recently. But it all seems
to hit Avery at once, and Louis can see the emotion building on her
face and behind her golden eyes before the tears start leaking from
them.
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Avery starts sobbing and Louis pulls her right back against his chest,
holding her head as he tries to soothe her. She’s been though a lot, far
too much, and Louis can only imagine how overwhelming it all has
been for her.
“I’m just gonna give you all a moment.” Charlie excuses herself from
the room and Harry moves to sit near Louis on Avery’s bed.
“Aww sweetheart, it’s ok.” Harry comforts gently, rubbing Avery’s

back as he leans closer. “You’re ok, honey.”
“We really beat it?” Avery cries, gazing up at both of them as she
sniffles, eyes red and wet.
“We really beat it.” Louis nods and it pulls at his heart when he thinks
of her still unable to believe that she’s overcome this, believe that she
really is going to live. His own eyes start burning, lining with saltwater.
“It’s over. You’re gonna get to go back to doing all of your favorite
things. You can go to school again and be with your friends and make
even more friends...You get to grow up and become whoever you want
to be and do whatever you want to do with your life.” He describes,
voice emotionally wavering in his throat. “You can do anything, Aves.”
And that’s when Harry tears up again, tracks streaming down his
cheeks as he clutches Avery tighter.
“And best of all, you finally get to leave this stupid bed.” Louis smiles
wetly, letting out a choked-up laugh.
Avery and Harry both laugh too, matching Louis’ expression. They’re
all crying, holding on to each other tightly, unable to completely pull
themselves together. But they don’t have to, they can all sit here and
cry forever and ever if they want because this momentous victory is
worth every last painstaking tear.
||☤||
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Harry invites Louis over to his house that night so they can celebrate
Avery’s discharge from the hospital. Avery is getting all settled in back
at home and what better way to welcome her than to introduce her to
someone who she’s been asking about since day one.
“Avery, come here for a second!” Harry calls down the hall for her.
She’s apparently in the kitchen where she was helping Harry with
dinner before Louis arrived.
“Yes?” Avery appears, breaking into a smile when she sees Louis and
a happy shriek when she sees Benedict sat at his feet.
“Aves, I’ve brought a friend who is dying to meet you.” Louis

announces with a grin.
“Benny!” Avery squeals again, dropping down to hug him right away.
“You’re as pretty and cute as all the pictures I’ve seen of you!”
Benedict jumps up and licks her face, tail wagging back and forth
wildly. She sits back on her heels and Benedict wastes no time in
squeezing his big bumbling self on her small lap, trying to get all of her
attention. “Aww, I love you too!”
Harry and Louis watch them interact and smile dotingly because it’s
honestly the sweetest thing. A match made in heaven.
“Sorry Daddy, I can’t help you make dinner anymore, I have to go

entertain my own guests.” Avery decides, standing to her feet.
“Your own guests?”
“Yes. Benedict needs all of my attention, I’m sorry. “Avery explains,

already on her way up the stairs with her new best friend right behind
her. “Come on Benny, you’ll love my room.”
“He’s not coming back home with me tonight is he?” Louis asks in a
rhetorical sort of way.
880
Harry shakes his head, grinning. “Oh, I highly doubt it.”
Louis laughs. “I knew he would love her. I wonder if he remembers

her as a baby. I mean, he was just a puppy, but he was still pretty
protective of her crib even then.”
“Hmm, maybe he does.” Harry considers. “I read that dogs don’t ever
forget people.”
“Hmm.” Louis hums as well.
Harry turns to Louis fully. “So Lou, when can I take you out for our
second date?”
Louis grins, leaning into him. “I see you are back to taking this courting
thing seriously.”
“I did say that I would prove my love to you, no matter how long it
takes.” Harry reminds with a slight smirk.
“But don’t you think you’ve won now that we’ve not only
consummated our relationship several times over, but I’ve also entered
an exclusive, established relationship with you?”
Harry considers that for half a second. “Mmm. No.”
Louis tilts his head at Harry incredulously, smiling.
“And you know how I feel about dating.” Harry says, referring to his
Someday List.
“I do.” Louis nods, hands on his waist.
“So you must know that I’ll never be done wooing you, Louis
Tomlinson.” Harry smiles wide, showing off his lovely deep dimples.
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“You’re just so impossible, Harry Styles.”
||✚||
They’re on the couch, legs and feet twisted around each other,
resurrecting a timeless tradition of theirs for their second official date.
And that tradition is none other than the uniquely treasured delicacy
of ice cream and wine. Avery is asleep upstairs and they’re trying to be
quiet but they’re failing more and more with each sip. Between the two
of them, they’ve nearly finished three whole bottles of horribly cheap
wine and two pints of ice cream. It’s safe to say that they’re getting
tipsier by the second, giggling with each other about nothing at all
behind their spoons.
“Lou.”
“H.”
“Lou.” Harry’s smile widens gradually, dimples deepening like he has

a host of burning secrets inside.
“H?” Louis narrows his eyes curiously, but still manages to match
Harry’s smile.
“Louis!” Harry’s smile is totally full now, eyebrows raised animatedly.
“Harry!”
“Let’s go on vacation!” Harry announces, excitement ringing clear in

his voice.
“What? Now?” Louis blinks, setting down his pint in his lap for a
moment.
Harry nods with wide eyes. “Yes, now.”
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“Are you drunk?”
“I dunno? Um? Maybe? But I’m serious! You and me and Avery. Let’s
go to Europe!”
“You’re…serious?” Louis asks again skeptically.
“Yes, I’m serious! It’s the beginning of summer, which is the perfect
time because Avery is out of school—she can travel, right? Did you
clear her to travel?”
“Yeah, she can but…” Louis pauses, and from the creased tilt of his
features Harry can tell he’s thinking seriously about something.
“We can take some time away for us. I’ve been promising her a trip to
Europe forever and I don’t know…I just don’t want to wait anymore.”
Harry explains. “And it would be so much better if you came along
too.”
Louis’ face still doesn’t match Harry’s enthusiasm, so Harry dials it

back a bit. “But um…I don’t want to pressure you though, like if you
have work or you know…”
Louis shakes his head slightly, still looking downward at the pint of ice
cream in his lap. “No, it’s not that…I um…”
Harry waits quietly for Louis to finish. Louis is so thoughtful about

every single thing he says, and Harry is learning that sometimes he
should just wait when Louis pauses like that because eventually Louis
will tell him as he processes whatever is going on in his head.
Louis is digging his spoon around in what’s left of his ice cream,
picking at it anxiously. “I…I haven’t been back to England
since…um…”
Realization sobers Harry right up in an instant and he can’t believe he

mindlessly overlooked it. Of course Louis would be apprehensive
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towards returning back. It’s what made him leave in the first place.
“Oh, Lou—I’m sorry, baby I didn’t mean to—fuck, I shouldn’t
have—”
“No, it’s alright….” Louis shakes his head, lifting his gaze back up to
Harry. His eyes are stormy, maybe even a bit distant as though he's
only partially in the moment. “…It would be good, I think…” His
voice is so very quiet, introspective. “Yeah. I should go back…”
“Louis, you really don’t have to.” Harry crawls across the couch to be
closer to him. “I don’t want you to feel pressured or
anything…especially if you don’t feel ready.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready…but I don’t think you can ever really
be fully ready for anything that happens in life…” Louis answers in
that same quiet voice. “So...I’m going to do it—I want to do it.”
“You’re sure?” Harry questions in concern, holding Louis’ hand dearly

as he studies his face. This is huge for him, absolutely huge. It's such a
big step and Harry knows that he’s scared, how could he not be after
all that has happened to him? Louis' fingers tremor ever so slightly and
Harry only grips him tighter, wanting so much just to settle his fears
in any way he can.
Louis takes a long look at Harry and before he even says anything else
his eyes flicker and waver a few times, a storm flashing behind his gaze
as though internally fighting himself back and forth on it. But he still
looks so determined of the choice he’s making, and Harry is so proud
of him.
“I want to go with you.”
||☤||
And so, they take a trip across the Atlantic Ocean to explore Europe.
884
Louis hasn’t taken a single vacation leave in all the many years he’s
worked at SSMC and he has so many paid vacation days accumulated
that the H.R. department is practically begging him to leave. And since
it’s the summer, Harry and Louis decide to dedicate an entire month
to their trip, thirty-five days specifically.
Their European tour is composed of stops of differing lengths at

fifteen major cites. They planned it all out together from start to finish,
selecting cities from Amsterdam all the way down to Athens and
everywhere in between.
They start their tour in France, specifically Bordeaux because Harry

adores it so much and because he is adamant about Louis finally having
real wine. Louis calls him a wine snob every chance he gets, and Harry
just thinks it’s hilarious.
They live the life of true tourists, taking unnecessary pictures of literally
everything and wearing obnoxious hats and matching t-shirts as they
see the landmarks from country to country. The food is incredible, and
the people are wonderful, and the sights are so beautiful, and the days
seem to just fly by ridiculously fast.
And the very last stop on their lengthy European excursion is England.
They travel to Harry’s hometown of Holmes’s Chapel first, and Avery
gets a chance to see the town where Gemma and Harry grew up.
Avery loves every minute of it, asking so many questions about all the
different places Harry lived as a young foster child. Harry tells her
everything she wants to know and more, completely open with her
about his life and his past and his sister.
And when that’s all said and done, they take a final trip to Doncaster.
Harry asks Louis repeatedly if he’s absolutely sure that he wants to visit
his hometown, assuring him that they don’t have to do it if he’s not
ready to. But Louis promised himself that if he agreed to coming along
on this whole European tour, he had to stop home.
885
With one hand linked with Harry’s and the other held tightly by Avery,
Louis visits the gravestones of his family. He’s only ever been here
once before, nearly eighteen years ago. A broken-hearted teenager on
a path to numbing himself beyond feeling or reproach, laying the
foundation to walls he’s only now beginning to tear down as an adult.
The last time he stood here, alone and terrified to move, Louis
remembers wanting so many things. Wanting to lie down against the
earth and dig a plot of his own, wanting to be with them instead of
breathing in breath after breath above ground without them. And
Louis remembers walking away from this place in anger, having not
shed a single tear. He was hurt and distraught, feeling resentful of
himself, irrationally angry at himself for not doing more, not saying
more before it was too late.
It’s odd how emotions and feelings can lie dormant in one place,
suspended in time as though waiting for the day you return to claim
them. Everything Louis ever felt the last time he stood on this soil,
claws at his heart once again, inundating his conscious mind with
memories long locked away.
His chest constricts to the point where he nearly feels faint, like he’s
suffocating. His stance is shaky and hardly balanced on his own two
feet and there’s such a profound and direly strong urge to run stirring
inside his veins, run away from this place yet again and never look
back.
“Remember you’re brave, Louis.” Avery looks up at him, expression

gentle and comforting as she holds tightly to his trembling hand. “And
if you don’t feel very brave, I’ll be brave for you and so will Daddy.”
Harry is right there, calm and reassuring in the way he leans against
Louis’ side, holding him up and pouring out the strength Louis can’t
find. He presses a long kiss to his temple, lingering near as he whispers
soft reassurances to his ear. “I’m right here, baby. You’re not alone
this time.”
886
Louis closes his heavy eyes and nods, breathing deep the air to fill his
lungs. It’s not something he ever imagined himself doing, revisiting his
past, opening up old wounds. Far too afraid of it. When he left years
ago, he closed the door on that part of his life for good with no
intention of reopening it for any reason. Louis has come a long way
since then and he knows he wouldn’t be standing here right now if it
wasn’t for the love and support and understanding of the two people
holding his hands.
Pain is hard to conceptualize, hard to comprehend and even harder to

face. The way it manifests takes on so many indistinguishable forms,
weaving its way in and out of all areas of life. It has the potential to
haunt you forever, lingering in the far corners of your mind, leaping to
the forefront when you least expect it to. Nothing Louis could ever do
will bring them back, but day by day, Louis is finding that if he opens
his heart to it, there can be healing in the pain, healing in the broken
emptiness that he thought could never feel whole again.
And he doesn’t have to heal alone, he doesn’t have to face those layers
of hurt and pain by himself, he doesn’t have to absorb all the dark,
painful feelings that still come over him from time to time. It’s ok to
let himself feel it, it’s ok to let himself show it, and it’s ok to let himself
grow from it.
Louis curls himself against Harry, burying his face to his chest as the
tears Louis was certain would come, the tears he couldn’t bear to shed
when he first came here, begin to trickle down his cheeks in hot waves.
Harry holds him tightly, arms completely secured around his fame,
grounding Louis as he finally grieves the loss he wasn’t ready to before.
Harry runs his hand up and down Louis’ spine softly, rocking him
slightly on his feet. Avery is still holding Louis’ closest hand, standing
so near to him as she thumbs over his palm. And Louis is so grateful
for them, so happy that he has them in his life to be there for him in
times like these when he really needs it.
Avery presses a kiss to the back of Louis’ hand before releasing it. And
true to her promise, she decides to be brave for Louis, approaching
887
the rows of gravestones. She kneels down by each one and gently lays
a flower over the stone plaques. Louis watches as she takes time to
whisper something special to each one, and although he can’t hear
exactly what she says, it tugs right at his heart, he loves her so much.
Avery blows each of his sisters a sweet kiss before moving on to the
next one.
And when she finally gets to his mother’s, he hears Avery thank her
for Louis.
||☤||
When they get back to Seattle everything begins to change, change for
the better, Louis thinks. The summer months are coming to a close,
which means the start of a host of new beginnings, most notably, the
start of a new school year for Avery. It’s all she talks about, beyond
elated to be starting third grade with all of her friends and peers. She
missed out on a lot of her second grade experience, doing most of her
work from the hospital or at home by herself. But this year Avery has
the chance to have a normal school experience and get involved with
everything her school has to offer and Harry and Louis couldn’t be
happier for her.
Things begin to fall into routine for them. Just as he repeatedly said he
would, Harry courts Louis, seriously courts him—dating the shit out
of him as Harry so often likes to say, next level courting. And Louis
loves it, he loves every second of it. They count them, they count each
and every date they have together, making a spectacle about it no
matter how insignificant the date activity might be or how short it may
last due to a lack of time or busy schedules. They both agree that what
matters most is that they get to spend time together. They decide that
they’ll resume their date numbers at Date 4 and consider their whole
35-day trip as just Date 3 because it’s just easier to keep track of that
way.
They didn’t even do much for Date 4 though, lounging around the
house with Avery while trying and failing to teach Benedict new tricks.
It was a laid-back date, hilarious from the moment it started, and of
888
course, perfect. For their sixth date they go for a ferryboat ride and
Harry somehow gets seasick from it, which Louis does not understand
at all because the boat is moving at a fucking snail’s pace.
Date 12 holds a very heated game of scrabble between he and Harry,

heated meaning it somehow led to sex. Neither of them knows how
that exactly happened, but it did, and they regret nothing. Date 17 is a
busy day for Louis with back to back surgeries all day long and they
only have time for a morning run together, which led to hot shower
sex because everything seems to fall back there. On their 21st date they
resurrect cheap wine and ice cream night yet again, beginning to make
a habit of it as one of their usual date night activities.
Date 28 didn’t originally start out as a date, but somehow it sort of

turned into one. Avery’s school is hosting a back to school fair to raise
money for a variety of local causes and charities. They do it every year
and each of the students are responsible for a booth and Harry has
been tasked specifically by Avery to run a cupcake stand. So according
to his many texts, Harry has been trapped in the kitchen all day. Avery
was apparently helping him at first, but then around their ninth batch,
she got tired and fell asleep on the couch, which Harry sent Louis a
cute picture of.
Harry then called Louis and asked him to bring over more eggs and
sugar after work and of course Louis couldn’t just drop off the
groceries and leave. So that’s how he ended up sat atop the kitchen
counter with Harry wedged between his dangling legs.
“You’ve got so much flour in your hair.” Louis grins, wiping a smudge
of what is probably frosting from Harry’s chin.
“I think I may be turning into a cupcake.” Harry admits, shaking out

his curls.
“Or maybe you always were a cupcake and you are now returning to
your original form.” Louis teases, locking his ankles around Harry’s
waist.
889
Harry giggles, hands resting on the counter on either side of Louis’
hips as he leans in closer. “Come with me tomorrow?”
“Of course, love. After all your texts, I cleared my schedule for it.”
Harry smiles appreciatively. “Really?”
“Selling goods baked by my favorite wannabe baker? No place I’d

rather be.”
“I’m just gonna let that little comment slide.” Harry’s smile morphs
into a pout. “I may not be serious enough to own a bakery, but I’d like
to think that I’m a pretty good baker.”
“Ok, Betty Croker.” Louis smirks, tightening his legs around Harry.
“And I mean that as a compliment, by the way. You’re not just pretty
good, H. You’re amazing and you could open up a bakery if you
wanted to.”
“Mmm, well thank you.” Harry closes the rest of the space separating
their lips. “I appreciate that, babe.”
Based on the sheer amount of cupcakes Harry has baked and frosted,
he is well on his way to starting his own bakery right here and now in
his kitchen. And Louis has stolen and tasted enough of them behind
Harry’s back to know that they’re amazing and there’s no way they
won’t completely sell out at the fair.
By the time the school fair starts bright and early the next morning,
they have more than enough perfectly frosted cupcakes to sell for the
booth, which makes Avery extremely happy.
They’re under a tent with a long table that Avery has decorated with
the cutest signs and banners, and Harry and Louis have strategically
arranged all the different cupcake flavors, so they should be irresistible
to any innocent, passerby fairgoer.
890
Even Avery’s third grade teacher stops by to compliment how nice
and lovely their cupcake booth looks and Avery takes it as the perfect
opportunity to introduce her to Louis and Harry.
“This is my Daddy, but you already know him from Back to School
Night I think…and this is my Louis.” Avery introduces proudly.
“Hi, I’m her Louis.” Louis offers his hand to her teacher for a shake,
smiling. He probably would have met her during Back to School Night
too, but he was on-call that evening.
“Oh, so you’re Louis.” The teacher beams back at him. “Avery speaks
so highly of you. She just shared with the class the story of how you
saved her life. It’s so touching. Thank you both for coming and helping
out.”
Louis gives her a wide smile back, honored that Avery goes around
talking about him and that she wanted to make sure that her teacher
knew who he is to her. Avery’s teacher doesn’t stick around for too
long, most likely having plenty of other things to attend to and it gives
Harry, Louis, and Avery time to put the last touches on their cupcake
booth.
“Alright, well, I think you have it under control now.” Avery claps her
hands together once and starts to leave the booth, leaving Harry and
Louis both extremely confused.
“Excuse me little missy, where are you going?” Harry frowns.
“I have to go help out over there with the cotton candy booth.” Avery
explains, pointing across the way.
“You’re leaving us?”
“Just like that?”
891
“I’m in the science club, so I have to help that booth too.” Avery tells
them. “Will you be ok without me?”
“No, I’ll never make it. Please don’t leave me alone with your dad,
trapped here in this pink booth.” Louis jokes, pulling a direly worried
face.
“Louis.” Avery giggles, shaking her head fondly at him.
Louis grins slowly. “Bye, love. Have fun.”
“We won’t let you down, Munchie.” Harry promises, waving to her as
she runs off towards her friends in her club.
“What do you mean? How could we let her down?” Louis wonders,
turning to Harry. “Don’t we just need to man this booth and make
sure it doesn’t burn down or something?”
“So yesterday, Avery made it very clear to me that we have to sell all
of these cupcakes by the end of the day so she can raise the most
money in her class. Because the person who raises the most apparently
gets to choose the charity for this year and she really wants to be that
person.”
“Well obviously, whatever Avery wants, she must have.” Louis teases,
but he’s also completely serious. If it is within Louis’ power, he will
stop at nothing to get it for her. “We have to help her win, H.”
“How about we make it interesting and you and me have a little

competition too.”
“I’m listening...”
“Ok, so since we need to sell all of these cupcakes, how about we see
who can sell the most, the fastest?” Harry suggests, raising a
questioning eyebrow.
892
“Oh, you’re so on.” Louis challenges, narrowing his eyes. “That’s an
easy win.”
“Ok, but why the fuck are you so confident about winning?” Harry
frowns at him. “You know I literally work in marketing for a living, I
can sell anything.”
“Um ok?” Louis shrugs as though unconvinced. “No one can resist
my charm, I’m like, an amazing salesperson. Don’t test me.”
Harry can’t suppress his laughter. “You’re a surgeon, Louis!”
“And?”
“And…what could you possibly know about selling things?”
“Oh please, love. I have to sell myself all the time just to get funding
for all of my out of the box ideas. I’m also very competitive. Don’t
underestimate me, H.”
“I would never dream of it.” Harry grins, looking far too amused. “I
guess we will see what happens.”
“Yes, we will see.” Louis holds up his chin confidently. “Wait, wait.
What is my prize for winning?”
“Your prize?” Harry raises an eyebrow, smirking.
“The prize.” Louis corrects, rolling his eyes. “Whatever.”
“A cupcake, obviously.”
“What kind of cupcake though?” Louis presses in suspicion. “Is this

even worth my time?”
893
“Vanilla. Raspberry filled.” Harry describes with dramatic pauses,
holding up the cupcake in question. “With sprinkles.”
“Hmm.” Louis inspects it thoroughly, stroking his chin as though it’s

such a hard decision to make. “Ok. Deal.”
Harry holds his hand out for a shake to seal the deal. “Best of luck to
you.”
“My condolences on losing.” Louis replies with a bowed nod.
“You’re so ridiculous.” Harry laughs fondly. “But I’m also slightly

turned on by you being cocky, so I’ll allow it.”
“Good.” Louis smirks, cocking an eyebrow. “I have you right where I

want you. You won’t even see me coming.”
Harry continues laughing at Louis’ expense and Louis wants to smash

a cupcake in his face just to shut him up.
“Laugh it up now, because you won’t be laughing so hard when I win

this.” Louis states confidently, sliding several stacks of cupcake boxes
across the table. “I’ll just be taking these to my side of the booth.”
“What is that like nine dozen cupcakes? Really Louis? That’s a bit
much don’t you think?”
“Keep on underestimating me, Harry.” Louis gives him a sideways

glance. “Just keep it up.”
They get a wide range of customers to their booth right away of course,
because who can deny a cupcake? But the challenging part is getting
them to buy their delicious cupcakes from Louis instead of from
Harry.
894
Harry has a way of talking with people that makes them gravitate to
him, he’s engaging and bubbly and charismatic. Honestly, if this wasn’t
a competition Louis would buy a shit ton of cupcakes from him
because he’s just that good. At one point, Louis watches Harry
blatantly flirt with an elderly woman, flashing his devilish dimples
whenever he can. He’s a cheater basically and Louis is not having it, so
it’s time for him to stop playing nice and turn up the god-given charm
he was born with.
Louis then starts to flirt with anyone who so much as glances at their
booth, even those who don’t. He beckons over strangers with a witty
joke or a perfectly timed smile, shameless batting an eyelash or two. It
works as it always does and Louis decides to take it up a notch, leaving
the booth completely to take a whole tray of cupcakes over to a group
of dads at the hot dog booth. Louis charms his way into getting them
to buy every single cupcake on his tray and he did it without even
breaking a sweat. Obviously, Louis’ still got it.
When he leaves the hot dog booth, Louis cockily struts back to Harry,
smirking as he spins the empty tray around in his hands. “And that’s
how it’s done. A dozen cupcakes sold in less than two minutes.”
“What the fuck just happened?” Harry stands at a loss, watching Louis
incredulously. “What did you say to them?”
“Oh darling, that’s not something I’m going to tell you, my

competition.” Louis proudly deposits his recent earnings into the
safety box and tallies up his rising score.
“Does everyone just fall in love with you or…?”
“I don’t know…but you did.” Louis shrugs in a coy sort of way.

“Anyway, I’ve got more cupcakes to sell.”
“Bye, I guess.” Harry frowns, a tad bitter.
895
“You know what actually?” Louis pulls out his wallet and drops a crisp
$100 bill into Harry’s tip jar.
“Did you really just tip me $100?” Harry laughs in disbelief.
Louis rests a mock consoling hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You’re trying

your best and as your competition I just want you to know that I
recognize that. I can see that you’re trying.”
“Oh, what a respectful competitor you are.” Harry nods sarcastically.

“Thank you so very much for recognizing my efforts.”
“Mmm, well actually it’s not really about you so…” Louis shrugs,
turning away. “I'm a huge fan of charity and I also love Avery. I really
want her to raise the most money and if she’s relying on you, that might
not happen.”
“I hate you.”
“Alright well carry on, mate.” Louis carts off even more cupcakes this
time, finding that he can sell them even easier if he goes up to people.
It’s like a surprise attack that they can’t seem to say no to, especially
not with how Louis strategically propositions them. And it definitely
proves to be the perfect winning strategy because before long he’s
once again sold all of his cupcakes.
By the end of the day when their booth is completely sold out, Harry
and Louis each tally up their final score.
“So, with the last dozen I just sold to that mom over there, my grand
total is up to one hundred and forty-eight cupcakes, sold by yours
truly.” Louis announces, turning towards Harry with his arms crossed
over his chest. “And how many did you sell, marking specialist Harry
Styles?”
“One hundred and thirty-nine.” Harry answers begrudgingly with a

defeated sigh. “You win.”
896
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
Harry rolls his eyes. “You won.”
“One more time for me, love.” Louis leans a bit closer. “I think I
misheard you.”
“Louis Tomlinson, I crown you the winner of our cupcake war.” Harry
proclaims, properly presenting Louis with his cupcake.
“Oh my god, I won? Thank you, thank you—oh you’re too kind, hold
the applause.” Louis theatrically pretends to be received by a host of
awaiting cameras and applause, holding his free hand over his face.
“Oh stop, it’s all sooo unexpected. Ah, I’m not ready.”
“There is literally no applause.” Harry says flatly.
Louis exaggeratedly holds an emotional hand over his mouth, as if he’s

just so moved. “Wow, where to start. Um, I’d like to thank The
Cupcake Academy for this prestigious honor, wow, wow—this
cupcake really proves what downright hard work can get you in this
baked goods industry. “
“Please enough.” Harry bites back a laugh as he listens to Louis’ award

winning speech. “I get it, I underestimated you.”
“This is for my fucking fans, especially my number one fan which

funnily enough was my competitor in this event.” Louis mimics
looking up as if he’s overcome with raw emotion. “He always told me
‘Louis, you’re just a doctor in a baker’s world, you’ll never win’ and
you know what? His words really stuck with me and he’s the reason
I’m standing here today, a winner.” He starts fake crying, holding his
cupcake with both hands as if it really is some kind of prestigious
award. “Babe, if you’re watching at home, I love you and you’re my
reason. Also, eat my ass.”
“You really think you’re funny, huh?” Harry frowns, sounding bitter.
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“God, yes. I’m so fucking funny.” Louis cackles to himself, milking his
winning moment for all it’s worth. “Ok, but you know I’m such a good
sport that I want to share my trophy winning cupcake with you, the
love and light of my life.”
Harry eyes him skeptically. “Is that right?”
“Mhmm.” Louis nods honestly, holding his cupcake towards Harry

gingerly. “Just open a little… yeah that’s it, baby…” But right when
Harry gets close enough, Louis smashes the entire thing right in his
face, smearing icing and rainbow-colored sprinkles everywhere as he’s
been dreaming of doing all day long.
“Oh…ok…so that’s what we’re doing now? Ok. Alright. Great. Thank
you sooo much, you’re really cute.” Harry nods his head sarcastically,
buttercream coating his face.
“I am, aren’t I?” Louis beams happily, eyes crinkled.

“You’re sooo welcome, love. Anytime.”
“Ok, but Lou, I like sharing too.” Harry smiles mischievously, inching
towards Louis slowly. “In fact, I love sharing, especially with you.”
Louis starts to cautiously back away from Harry, shaking his head.
“No, well see…I don’t like too much sharing, you know what I mean?
It’s ok, I think the moment has passed.”
“Please, just a little kiss.” Harry chases after Louis with his frosting
coated lips puckered. “Just a little kiss to show you how much I care.
I love you! Let me love you!”
“I appreciate the love, babe—I do, really…but no. No, thanks.” Louis
adamantly protests, darting out of the booth and running away as
Harry sprints after him.
When Harry catches him, he locks his arms around Louis waist, lifting
him off the ground. Louis squeals and squirms as Harry kisses all over
his once clean face, getting frosting and sprinkles all over him. They’re
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both giggling as Louis still tries to escape the hold of Harry’s strong
arms.
“Um Lou, you got a little…” Harry gestures to his chin as he sets Louis
back on the ground.
“Yeah? Fuck you, Harry.” Louis grins, wiping his face with the back
of his hand. Although it’s useless, the sugary creme is literally
everywhere now.
Harry laughs fondly. “You know what we should do?”
“Share all our love with Avery?” Louis smiles, matching Harry’s
mischievous smile.
“Exactly.”
And that’s just what they do. Harry and Louis find her easily, helping
pack up the cotton candy booth with one of her friends on the other
side of the park. They wait for the perfect moment before counting
down together and ambushing her in a surprise attack.
“Avery!” They exclaim at once, both nuzzling their faces on either side
of Avery’s cheeks, covering her face with frosted kisses. She giggles
happily, but she doesn’t try to fight them off at all, seeming to find it
all more amusing than anything else.
Harry hugs her tight. “We just wanted to show you how much we love
you.”
“Do you feel loved?” Louis rubs his sticky cheek to Avery’s once again.
“Mhmm.” Avery tries to nod, but her face is being squished by both
Harry and Louis, cheeks pressed together.
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And of course it’s the perfect opportunity for a photo-op, the three of
them laughing happily with each other all while sporting matching
buttercream faces. And Louis definitely sets the picture as his phone’s
new lockscreen.
||☤||
Harry and Louis’ thirtieth date ends up being a FaceTime date, because
Harry has an emergency business meeting in Los Angeles for a new
client. He’s officially back to his full hectic work schedule again now
that all the dust has settled with his daughter. Louis and Avery cuddle
up on the couch together, Benedict at their feet as they video chat with
Harry. And when the call ends, the night turns into a special little Aves
& Lou date. They stay up and eat junky snacks while watching movies
together.
Since Harry is stuck in L.A., Avery is spending the rest of the week
with Louis. It’s not a problem at all, Avery spends so much time over
here with him anyways. One of the guest rooms is completely reserved
for her and it’s quickly becoming filled up with random things and
clothes that Avery leaves behind each time. Benedict is absolutely
thrilled to say the least, he seems to love Avery more than him
sometimes, following her everywhere she goes around the house.
They’ve just finished watching Monsters Inc., and they’re heading up the
stairs to bed, Avery holding on to Louis’ hand.
“Louis?” Avery pauses halfway down the upstairs hallway.
“Yeah?”
“What’s in this room?” Avery wonders.
Louis turns around to see what she’s talking about and finds Avery
curiously standing in front of the closed door to her nursery. A door
he closed long ago and never once looked back. He stares at it for a
long moment quietly.
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“It’s um…well…it’s your nursery. Or I mean it was…” Louis stumbles
a bit over his words, briefly remembering the last day he ever went
inside that room. “Right before you came home from hospital, I put it
together for you. I mean…it was never anything fancy, but um…yeah,
it was for you.”
Avery pauses in thought, shifting her gaze from Louis’ face back to the
door. “Can we go inside?”
“I don’t see why not.” Louis answers quietly. He’s not going to lie, he’s
quite nervous about going in there again, it’s been years. He walks by
this door on a daily basis and tries not to think a thing of it. That was
impossible to do at first, but as time went on, it became more bearable
and eventually he started not to fixate on it so much. “It’s probably
covered in all sorts of dust though, I haven’t been in there in a while.”
Louis keeps their hands joined together as he turns the knob of the
door. It creaks with disuse as he gradually swings it wide open. The air
inside the room is as stuffy as Louis expected it would be, and there is
a clear layer of dust coating every surface. But other than that, it looks
exactly like it did nine years ago, like some sort of time capsule and
Louis is instantly taken aback by it.
But Avery is so in awe of everything, letting go of Louis’ hand to

explore around the room that was once dedicated to her. Louis just
watches her quietly, having not moved away from where he initially
stopped by the door of the nursery.
“This was my crib?” Avery questions, standing near the old wooden
frame. There are still a few random stuffed animals lining the inside it,
long left behind.
“Yeah…not that you liked staying in there for too long.” Louis smiles
reminiscently. “You’d much rather if I held you...” He pauses for a
moment, turning his attention towards the rocking chair in the corner.
Just seeing it drives all the memories to the very forefront of his
thoughts. “I’d sit in that rocking chair and hold you all night
sometimes.”
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Avery sits down in the chair, rocking back and forth a few times to test
it out. “It’s pretty comfy.”
“It is quite comfy isn’t it?” Louis chuckles lightly. “I loved that chair.”
Avery settles her gaze back on him, pausing her rocking. “Why haven’t
you been in here to sit in it if you loved it so much?”
“I didn’t feel right without you, I suppose. Part of the reason I loved
it is because it was where I spent the most time with you…and I
um…” Louis blinks heavily, shaking his head as he feels a slight sting
pulling at his eyes.
Avery gets up from the chair and crosses the room just to hug him.
Her head is nuzzled against his stomach and she holds him as tightly
as she can. “I’m here now.”
“You are.” Louis whispers quietly, eyes shining.
“Sit with me?” Avery looks up at him hopefully.
Louis nods his head slowly, offering her a small smile. “Alright.”
Louis ventures further into the room, reaching the rocking chair. He
hesitates for a second before sitting down in it. And it feels so familiar,
achingly familiar. Except instead of a beautiful tiny baby in his arms
this time, he has a beautiful little girl in his lap. Avery cuddles against
him, the side of her face rested to his chest as she yawns sleepily. And
Louis swears he could hold her just like this forever.
“I love you, sweetheart.” Louis softly kisses his lips to her cheek,
pulling her even closer as she peacefully falls asleep. “My little
heartbreaker.”
||✚||
902
Harry is just walking out of a meeting with a client when he gets a text
from Louis that it’s an emergency. He calls him back right away, hands
shaking, heart racing.
“Louis, what’s wrong?” Harry asks the very instant the call connects.
But it’s Avery’s voice that answers him. “Oh no, Daddy. It’s just me, I
borrowed Louis’ phone.”
“Avie, honey, what’s wrong?” Harry worries, anxiously overanalyzing

the sound of her voice to figure out what could be wrong. “Are you
ok? Are you sick? What happened—”
“No!” Avery interrupts him. “I’m fine Daddy, I’m ok! Sorry, I just
can’t find Lemon and I wanted to know if you know where he is? I
need him.”
“Oh my god, don’t scare me like that, Avery.” Harry breathes out,
holding his hand over his still wildly beating heart. He closes his eyes
for a second just to calm down. “You said it was an emergency.”
“Sorry Daddy, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I promise.” Avery

apologizes genuinely. “This is an emergency though, I really need my
walrus! I need Lemon!”
“Oh Avie.” Harry sighs, she is literally always misplacing that thing.
God forbid something seriously happen to it and she loses it for good.
She’d have a cow. “Well, have you checked the very bottom of your
purple backpack?”
“Oh? No?” Avery considers for a moment. “Hold on…I’m gonna

look. Don’t hang up.”
“Ok, Munch, I won’t.” Harry promises. More likely than not, her
walrus is in there. Avery changes backpacks all week long because she
likes to match them with her outfits. The problem with it is that she
can never remember what she left behind in each bag.
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“I found him! He’s safe!” Avery announces happily, cheering into the
phone and he can practically see her dimpled smile. “Thanks Daddy!”
“Anytime, Aviebug.” Harry grins, glad that he could help. “So you just
stole Louis’ phone? Where is he?”
“No Daddy, I borrowed Louis’ phone.” Avery corrects pointedly. “And

he’s making dinner. He makes a really yummy grilled cheese with, like,
four cheeses in it. It’s the best.”
“Wow. Sounds like you’ve got quite a meal ahead of you.”
“Mhmm. I wish you were here too though.” Avery admits, a sad tilt to
her voice. “I miss you, Daddy.”
“I know, I miss you too, bug.” Harry tells her, trying not to sigh over
the phone. He hates that he’s across the coast working and not with
her. “I’ll be home soon.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.” Avery promises sweetly.
Harry smiles, holding the phone tighter to his ear. All he wants is to
fly home right now and cuddle her close to his chest. He hopes that
this deal closes by the end of the week, so he can get on the first plane
out of L.A.
||☤||
Sunday comes around and Avery and Louis have had a good week
together. Louis made her breakfast and dropped her off at school
every morning and in the evenings he would sit with her and help
Avery with her homework. It all became just like routine, but today
they’re just going to hang out together. Louis has no plans to go into
the hospital and they’ve got a whole list of things to do that they came
up with last night. Avery has decided that by the end of the day she
wants to have gone to the aquarium, saw a really funny movie, and
904
gotten two scoops of ice cream. Louis isn’t sure if that is the order she
wants to do it in, but everything is up to her. He’s all hers for the day.
Avery is sitting on a stool at the island countertop eating cereal. She’s

humming to herself, kicking her dangling legs back and forth as she
bops around to some beat in her head.
“Mind if I join you?” Louis asks as he shuffles into the kitchen.
Avery turns her head towards him, noticing him for the first time. She
beckons him over, patting the adjacent barstool for him to sit. She
already has a bowl and a spoon set out for him next to her. “Cocoa
puffs?”
Louis grins, hopping up on the barstool. “Why thank you, love.”
“Of course.” Avery smiles back, sliding the cereal box over to him.
“So what do want to do first, Aves?” Louis asks as he pours his cereal.
“Maybe the aquarium? That should be really fun.”
“Definitely ice cream first.” Avery decides certainly.
Louis laughs fondly, sighing. “It’s 9 A.M, love. You’ve got such a
morning sweet tooth.”
“I love ice cream and gelato and frozen yogurt. I’d eat it all day if I
could.”
“I think everyone would.” Louis agrees as his phone dings, buzzing

against the countertop. He lifts it up and immediately wants to chuck
it at the wall, already knowing it’s probably work related. Thankfully,
it’s not a crisis, just a message from Steve about a few charts and case
notes he needs from him as soon as possible. It’s such a pain, charting.
Louis considers it one of the worst parts of medicine. The mountains
of paperwork and the endless case notes are the worst. He almost
wishes it was a crisis instead.
905
“Hey Aves? I know we’ve got the whole day planned, but I’ve got to
stop by the hospital really quick.” Louis tells her regretfully. “Is that
alright, love? I’m really sorry, it’ll be quick, I promise.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Avery shrugs with a spoon hanging out of her
mouth. She’s so easygoing, just happy to hang out.
Louis drops a kiss to her forehead. “We can get ice cream right after.”
And that’s how Louis ends up taking Avery to work. All the nurses
constantly ask Louis about her, so Louis takes her to the nurse’ station
on his floor so they can say hi to her. Avery gives hugs to all of them,
seeming excited to see all her favorite nurses again. Louis sits at one
of the station computers and updates the case notes for the charts The
Chief is requesting. He’s just finishing up when Zayn strolls leisurely
down the hall.
“What’s up, pretty lady?” Zayn holds his hand out to Avery for a high
five.
Avery jumps up to slap his palm. “Hi Dr. Malik!”
“I’ve got myself a shadow today.” Louis smiles proudly at Avery at his
side.
“Aww isn’t that just like old times. Zayn grins. “All you need is a
harness strapped to your chest and a diaper bag.”
“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” Louis deadpans. “Have you considered

leaving Plastics for a career in comedy? Because you’re a shoo-in, mate.
Really.”
“I have considered it, yeah. Be my manager maybe? Since you believe
in me so much.” Zayn smirks.
Louis uses his free hand to quickly flip Zayn off with his middle finger.
“Anyway, I’m only here to sign off on a few charts. Avery and I are
having a day together, aren’t we Aves?”
906
Avery nods, beaming at him. “Yep, we’re going to the aquarium and
then to a movie and Louis promised that we would get ice cream first
thing after this.”
“Ice cream sounds perfect.” Niall agrees, joining them. He waves

specifically at Avery, face lighting up when he sees her. “Fancy meeting
you here, Avery. Are you our newest little doctor?”
Avery giggles, shrugging. “Maybe some day.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” Niall grins. “When I’m old and retired
I’m gonna look for you to be my doctor.”
“I’ll be your doctor.” Zayn offers. “I’m never retiring. Plastics can keep
you young forever.”
Niall and Louis both roll their eyes and Niall looks back to Avery to
shake his head. “Avery, please ignore that. I still want you as my
doctor, not him.”
“Don’t be mad that you picked the wrong specialty. You both are
sheep and Plastics is the superior specialty and that’s final.”
Louis is just about to argue, because how can he not refute such
blasphemy, when Liam comes rushing by at a full sprint. “Oh Louis!
Thank god I caught you—I need you. It’s urgent.”
“What is it?” Louis asks, already standing to his feet.
Liam has hardly slowed down, still moving down the hall. “It’s a spinal
fracture, but there’s nerve damage and if he doesn’t get to surgery now,
he could be left paralyzed.”
“I’ll be right there.” Louis nods automatically, instinct already kicking

in. He glances back towards Niall and Zayn. “Lads, do you think
that—”
907
“Yeah, yeah we remember the drill.” Niall answers easily, urging him
on. “Go, she’s fine with us.”
Louis quickly bends down to Avery. “Aves, hang out here for a bit, ok
love? I’ll be right back.”
“Ok.”
It doesn’t end up being a long procedure, well at least Louis’ part of it

doesn’t. After he salvaged the spinal cord and innervation, Liam
assured him that he had it all under control and practically kicked him
out of his O.R. to go enjoy his day off with Avery. Something that
Louis couldn’t say no to.
Louis heads to the attendings’ lounge, figuring that’s where they would
probably be, and from the outside he overhears Zayn, Niall, and Avery
all playing a board game together. He’s about to walk in, but something
causes him to pause near the door for a moment.
“Dr. Horan and Dr. Malik?” Avery questions.
“You know, you don’t have to call us that.” Zayn tells her.
“I don’t? What should I call you then?”
“Well, Avery the way I see it, you’re family.” Niall explains. “Louis is
like a brother to us. His family is our family too.”
Avery pauses, glancing between them both. “So that makes

you…like…my uncles…”
“Yeah…” Niall offers a warm grin. “I suppose it does.”
“I’ve never had an uncle before.” Avery smiles slowly as she thinks
about it.
908
“Well now you have three.” Zayn replies, wrapping his nearest arm
over her shoulder. “And you can always count on us whenever you
need us.”
A smile pulls at Louis’ lips too, heart-warmed by the sweet gesture of

his best mates. And he knows it probably meant the world and more
to Avery. She deserves people in her life who love and care about her
and it’s wonderful that she’s starting to see that.
||✚||
Harry has never been happier to be home in Seattle. He’s only been
gone for a week but somehow it feels like an eternity. Los Angeles
hasn’t felt like home to him in a while, and come to think of it, it never
really did. Everything about L.A. seems foreign and cold when he
thinks about all that he has waiting for him back home. And Harry
feels so incredibly lucky to be able to come home to a daughter he
absolutely adores, a man he loves with everything he has and a goofy
dog who never fails to steal his heart.
It’s perfect. Always perfect.
As is customary, Harry is greeted first by an eager mess of fur pawing

at his legs incessantly. “Benedict.” He smiles, bending down to scratch
behind his ears. But the dog seems to have other plans and he rolls
over for Harry to give him a belly rub, which of course Harry obliges.
“Aww, how’s it going, buddy? I missed you.”
Avery must hear his voice carrying through the house and she comes
barreling down the hallway, squealing as she slides across the wood
floor with her socked feet. “Daddy, you’re home!”
“Hi Munch!” Harry beams happily at her, holding his arms towards
his daughter. He lifts her up and embraces her tightly. He sighs
contently against his daughter and he swears that he’ll never get tired
of this, of just being able to hold her. He can’t ever forget how he
almost lost her, it’s always in the back of his mind, which makes it
909
impossible for Harry to ever take a single moment for granted. But he
knows that one day she’s going to grow out this, one day he’s going to
wake up and she’s going to be a teenager and she’s going to get so
embarrassed by him and all his affection. But she’ll still always be his
little girl and he wants to savor every last second of it.
“You’re getting so big, Avie.” Harry adjusts his hold on her. There was
a point earlier this year when holding her would break his heart
because she was so frail and fragile. But holding her now and feeling
how healthy and solid she feels in his arms almost makes Harry want
to cry. “Soon you’ll be carrying me.”
Avery has her small arms draped around his neck and she giggles.
“That’s impossible, I’ll never be as big as you.”
“Never say never.” Harry kisses her cute nose.
Harry starts walking down the hall with Avery in his arms to the
kitchen to hopefully find Louis. He finds him arms deep in suds,
cleaning dishes at the sink with his phone lodged against his ear by his
shoulder. He doesn’t notice Harry and Avery in the kitchen at first, far
too focused on giving detailed overnight orders for his patients to one
of his residents.
Louis ends the call and smiles wide when his eyes connect with Harry’s
and it sends little jolts of electricity to Harry’s heart. He hasn’t shaved
in awhile, and he looks so scruffy and endearing and soft all at once,
Harry just wants to cuddle him.
Harry sets Avery back down to the floor so that he can greet his
boyfriend properly. He crosses the kitchen and meets Louis at the sink.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Louis shakes his dripping hands out over the sink. “Sorry, I’m
covered in soapy water, I don’t want to get your suit wet.”
910
Harry pulls Louis close anyway, leaning right in to kiss him. “I don’t
even care.”
Louis grins against his lips, holding sudsy palms to his cheeks. “Missed
you, love.”
“Missed you, too.” Harry smiles, loving the feeling of having Louis’
lips back on his again. It’s just so good to be home. Except it does
smell kind of odd in this kitchen, not at all like it usually does. “What
is that smell? It’s…”
“Oh.” Avery grimaces. “I was trying to teach Louis how I make

chocolate chip cookies…but it’s not going so good.”
Louis laughs at that. “It’s going perfectly Avery, what on earth do you
mean? We’ve only burnt three batches so far. And the last one was
only slightly burnt, practically edible.”
“You’re hopeless and I love you.” Harry tells him.
“It’s not entirely his fault, Daddy.” Avery explains. “I forgot your
recipe so nothing we do turns out right. No matter what we do, they
burn! I was going to ask you for help, but we wanted to surprise you.”
“Surprise.” Louis announces, smiling wide. “Welcome home to burnt

cookies baked with love.”
“Did you maybe miss a step or something?”
“No?” Avery frowns to herself as she seems to think it over. “I did

everything like you showed me and I set the oven at 450.”
“450?” Harry grins amusedly. “You’ve been baking cookies at four

hundred and fifty degrees this whole time and wondering why they
keep burning?”
911
“You know, it sounded way too high to me too, but Avery insisted.”
Louis claims, shaking his head. “And honestly H, I was just along for
the ride. Who am I to tell a young baker the error of her ways?”
“Louis I told you, I never set the oven when we bake! Daddy always
does it!” Avery defends herself. “I just remember that it ended in fifty
and so I made a guess.”
“Oh, you made a guess, huh?” Louis grins, bending down to tickle her
sides. “What happened to all the times you told me that you were
‘absolutely sure’. Look how the story changes now that your dad is
home.”
Avery squeaks and giggles under Louis’ tickle attack and he picks her
all the way up and rains down an onslaught of light kisses to her
flushed cheeks. And Harry’s heart swells just watching them interact
with each other, he’s missed this so much. Louis smiles so brightly
when he looks at her, a genuine, full smile, enchanted by every last
thing she does. And Avery completely adores him, she’s so
comfortable and happy in his arms, it’s so beautifully clear how much
they really love each other.
The three of them spend the rest of the evening baking, properly baking.
Harry reminds Avery of the appropriate temperature for the oven and
Louis continues to tease Avery the entire night, somehow managing
to repeatedly insert the number four hundred and fifty into
conversation, which only makes Avery smile or make a face at him.
And Harry definitely constitutes it as their 31stdate.
Later that night, Harry curls himself up against Louis in bed, beyond
ready to just fall asleep surrounded by him, especially after the long
week he’s had. But Louis can’t seem to settle himself down, tossing
and twisting and adjusting restlessly in Harry’s arms every few seconds.
“Harry?” Louis twists around one more time in the bed so that they
are face to face. “Can I talk to you about something?”
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“Mhmm, of course, Lou.” Harry hums, eyes still closed and on the
verge of falling asleep, drained from traveling. He knew something was
coming, Louis can never sleep if something is on his mind.
Louis cups one side of his cheek, thumbing along the bone. “You have
to open your eyes first, love.”
Harry blearily blinks his eyes, lips slightly quirked towards the makings
of a smile. “This is a serious talk then.”
Louis nods slowly, sitting up in the bed to face Harry better. “But if
you’re too tired, H, I understand…it can wait…”
“And listen to you toss and turn and kick me all night?” Harry sits up
against the headboard. “If there’s something on your mind Louis, I
want to hear it. I’m never too tired to talk to you.”
“You’re so sweet.” Louis’ face softens impossibly. “I really missed you

this week.”
“I missed you too, babe. You have no idea how much.” Harry gently
pulls Louis’ face to his own for a short kiss. “But you can’t just want
to talk about how much we missed each other.”
“No um…not exactly…” He worries his bottom lip through his teeth,
chewing over his words as he breaks his gaze with Harry. “Well it’s
just that…I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately…especially while
you were away and um…I just…”
Harry watches him closely, running his hand along Louis’ shoulders
towards his back. “Yeah?”
“I want to help.” Louis starts, lifting his eyes back up again.
“Help with what, Lou?” Harry tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
913
“With you and with Avery. Financially.”
Harry blinks in surprise, caught off guard. “Louis please, you don’t
have to—”
“No wait, Harry please let me say this.” Louis insists gently, putting
both of his hands on Harry’s chest. “Look, I’m a neurosurgeon and
I’ve reached a point in my career where I make a lot of money and it’s
just me. Or it has been just me for so long…” He explains, pausing as
he gathers his thoughts. “I don’t have any major expenses; my student
loans are all paid off—I don’t even have a mortgage because this house
was my grandmother’s.” He holds Harry’s gaze earnestly. “I just want
to take care of the people I love…”
Harry is still just staring at Louis without words, not sure how he
should react.
Louis shifts from Harry’s side to straddle his lap, hands coming up to
cradle each side of his face. “Harry, you’re such a good father, a
devoted father….and I watch you continue to sacrifice yourself for
Avery because of how much you love her and want to provide a good
life for her. And I know you can provide for yourself and your
daughter, but you shouldn’t have to kill yourself doing it. You
shouldn’t have to work so hard and miss out on parts of her life just
to provide for her…not when I’m right here…”
Harry nuzzles his face towards Louis’ palm, lifting a hand to rest over
his. “Oh, Lou…”
“I just… I feel…responsible for her…” Louis admits honestly. “I

really care about her and I love her so much—she’s a part of me…and
more than anything I want what’s best for her. And she needs more
time with you, Harry. Avery needs more time with her dad. And…I’m
not telling you to completely quit your job and let me be your sugar
daddy or anything… because how fucking gross does that sound?”
Louis laughs a bit to himself. “I…I just really want to help. I want
everything that’s mine to be yours. There’s no point to any of it
without you…without Avery. You’re my family.”
914
Since getting together, he’s never heard Louis actually call him his
family aloud, he’s eluded to it, sure, but there’s something about
hearing him say it that does things to Harry’s heart. Harry inhales
audibly, feeling himself start to get emotional.
“I’m in this…like, really in this with you, Harry. The long haul, the end
of the line—whatever, I’m in. I love you.” Louis promises, still
cupping Harry’s cheeks, tracing over his cheekbones. “Let me
help…please, baby.”
Harry is just so utterly taken aback, truly floored. No one has ever
offered so much to him, so simply, so selflessly. Not expecting a single
thing in return, only operating out of the sheer kindness of his heart.
Not even Jesse, who he dated for four years, offered anything even
close to what Louis is offering. He never offered to support Avery
financially no matter how much Harry was struggling, he hardly
supported Harry let alone their relationship. Jesse would buy little
things for Harry sometimes, splurge on insignificant gifts from time to
time every blue moon, but never something like this.
Louis genuinely wants to help and support him. Not with strings or
conditions or ultimatums. He only wants Harry to be able to spend
more time with his daughter, uninhibited by the constraints of always
needing to leave her just to provide for her. Louis is truly the kindest,
most thoughtful man Harry will ever know.
And what’s sweeter is that Louis is so worried about overstepping or

intruding in some way, scared of crossing a line he’s not sure might
exist. But just like Louis said, he’s family. Louis is and will always be
his family and there are no lines or barriers when it comes to family.
“I’m not poor anymore.” Louis adds with a knowing look, a small
smirk on his lips.
Harry can’t help but let out a surprised watery laugh, still finding the
concept hilarious for some reason even though it’s been so many years.
It really must be the accent.
915
Harry closes the slight space between them, sealing their lips together
as his tears begin to trickle. “God, I love you.” Harry murmurs against
Louis’ mouth, the only thing he can think to say in response. He can’t
describe how touched he is by the kindheartedness of his sweet
boyfriend. “I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, but I love
you so much.”
And as much as he didn’t want to think about it, this just reminds
Harry about how goddamn hard he made everything for himself by
leaving. Louis tells him all the time to stop drudging up the past and
Harry tries not to, honestly, he does—but sometimes, god sometimes
it feels like he’ll never be able to fully forgive himself for it. There’s
always going to be something to remind him of how much he cost
their family, how much he threatened their life together.
“I will never again deny you the chance to support Avery. I’m…I… I
already r-robbed her of so much time with you…a-and I…” His voice
lodges itself dryly in his throat as the weight of that time seems to fall
heavily on Harry’s shoulders like an anvil.
Louis shakes his head, wiping Harry’s tears away. “Babe, shh…it’s ok,
H.”
Harry doesn’t even think Louis understands what he means, not

completely. He hasn’t talked about this properly with Louis, hasn’t
admitted it all aloud, too afraid of how Louis would react. Despite how
much they’ve discussed at length, there is an aspect of Harry’s guilt
that he doesn’t delve into. It’s the only thing he hasn’t completely
opened up about to Louis. Not because he didn’t want to, but because
the past is hard enough to talk about in itself, but talking about how it
directly affected Avery, how it specifically derailed parts of her life
too—fuck it’s so hard for Harry to even think about, let alone speak
of.
“No, it’s n-not ok, Louis…i-it’s not—she cried for you. Every day, she
c-cried for you.” Harry sobs, breathing heavily, remembering it all like
it was yesterday. The first year away from Louis was the hardest of
them all. “I would sit and h-hold her for hours and I’d try to t-talk to
916
her in that gentle voice like y-you would…b-but she only cried. And
then I w-would just cry too and…and it went on like t-that for months
and it was m-miserable. I was miserable w-without you—she doesn’t
r-remember, but I do...she n-needed you. Avery needed you from the
beginning…she… s-she was just a b-baby and she bonded with you
before me and s-she missed you so much and…I kept you a-away...”
He breaks down completely, shoulders shaking and caving in on
himself. “God—there were so many v-voicemails that you left on my
p-phone…and I’d play them all for her and also for me a-and it was
the only way to get her to stop crying. Just hearing your v-voice…even
just for a little w-while…it gave her peace…and…and I d-don’t know
if I’ll ever f-forgive myself for a-all the time you lost with e-each
other…I’m so s-sorry, Lou…I’m s-sorry…”
“You know I don’t hold that against you, you know that, right love?”
Louis speaks in emotionally hushed tones, teary eyes red rimmed. “I
don’t. I promise I don’t. I won’t ever. There’s nothing you can tell me
that would make me want to hold it against you.”
Harry is still crying heavily, trembling more and more with the passing
seconds. So Louis pulls him to his chest, cradling Harry’s head, rocking
him slowly to try and console him. Harry knows how genuine Louis
is, how much he cares, how much he believes that everything that
happened, happened for a reason…but sometimes when Harry allows
himself to remember his side of what happened, what he caused, Harry
doesn’t feel worthy of all the forgiveness Louis has in his heart for him.
And maybe it’s an irrational reaction because Louis has never given
him a single reason to doubt him but yet, the complete absolution of
his wrongs of the past doesn’t always feel warranted.
“Harry, my love, let it go. Please let it go. Please…” Louis begs of him
in a soft voice, tearstained cheek rested atop Harry’s head as he holds
him tightly. “I forgave you for the past, you know that. And Avery has
too. But you have to forgive yourself.”
“B-But there’s so much t-that you missed, Lou…” Harry continues to

cry, face buried to Louis’ chest. And he can hear all the layers of guilt
ringing out in his own voice, only making him feel worse.
917
“Tell me about it then.”
“What?” Harry slowly lifts his head, meeting Louis’ gaze in confusion.
Louis runs his fingers through Harry’s hair, tucking the stray strands
away from his teary eyes. “Tell me about all the good things and good
memories you have with Avery when she was little.”
“W-Why would you want to h-hear that, Louis?” Harry sniffles.
“Because I don’t want you to focus on the bad parts anymore. I might
not have been there, and I know that’s hard for you to let go of, but I
know there was good in it Harry, there was so much good in it. You
blame yourself for a lot of things but…” Louis offers him a gentle
comforting smile so genuine it brings fresh tears to the corners of
Harry’s eyes. “There was always good there too, I’m sure of that, love.”
Harry just looks at him, searching his shining blue eyes, taken
completely aback once again by everything Louis is.
“Tell me, H.” Louis encourages gently and there’s not a single trace of
spite or anger in his eyes. He only wants to soothe Harry in any way
he possibly can, loving him so unconditionally.
“I u-um…” Harry exhales shakily, allowing himself to think back on

his fondest memories during that time, challenging himself to tell
Louis one from every year. The first one he thinks of happened not
too long after he left. He takes a deep breath to calm his tearful voice.
“Well uh…you already know that Avery loves that walrus you gave her
as a baby…and she would have a fit if we went anywhere without it.
So of course, her first word ended up being walrus, but she couldn’t
pronounce the sounds in the middle properly for the longest time, so
it sounded more like ‘wah-us’ and I always thought it was the cutest
thing when she’d say it.”
Louis face breaks into a smile, so soft and gentle, completely endeared
as though he can picture it perfectly. “Keep going.”
918
“Ok.” Harry nods gradually, wiping under his wet eyes. “When she
was about two and half, she got really excited about being ‘a big girl’
and she would do the cutest little celebration dance every time she
went to the bathroom all by herself and she would insist that I do the
dance with her no matter where we were or what time it was. It could
be two in the morning and she’d come wake me up just to do that
dance.” He describes, a small grin pulling at his lips. “And when she
was four, whenever she thought I was sad she would pour orange juice
in a bowl and give it to me calling it ‘feel better soup’. She somehow
believed it would fix everything…and sometimes it felt like it did…”
Harry feels several quiet tears roll down his cheeks.
Louis continues to listen, holding both of Harry’s hands reassuringly,

leaning in to kiss his tears away.
“She wore a polka dot leotard with a pink tutu and yellow rainboots
on her first day of kindergarten because I let her dress herself and that’s
what she wanted to wear.” Harry’s expression uncontrollably curves
into a wet smile as his voice continues to waver. “It wasn’t even
raining, but she insisted on it.”
“Oh, of course she did.” Louis offers his own warm smile.
“On my birthday she would always try to make me something and

when she was six, she wanted to make me a cake, but she didn’t know
how, so she covered a stack of bread with icing and sprinkles and put
a candle on it. But it was the best thing ever.” Harry bites on his lip as
his breath stutters and more tears flow. “And she got really into writing
little notes for people when she was seven. She called them her ‘secret
sweeties’ and she would write little notes to me like ‘you make the best
waffles’ or ‘you give my favorite hugs’ and she would leave them all
over the house for me to find. And I swear they always made my d-
day...”
“God, she’s s-so…”. Harry starts full on crying again, shaking his head
as his voice falls horribly weak again. “I wouldn’t have m-made it
without her, you k-know? With everything that h-happened with…w-
with Gemma—I…I don’t know…I feel like I don’t deserve her
919
sometimes…like she d-deserves so much more than w-what I could
ever give h-her and I should be a-able to give her more—I want to
give her so much more. She’s e-everything and I want to give her
everything because I know it’s my fault that she doesn’t have it so I
just try to do more for her and work even h-harder…” His head is still
shaking as he looks back at Louis, sobbing. “But it’s too m-much,
Louis…it’s t-too hard—I can’t do it a-alone, I c-can’t…”
“I know, love…I know.” Louis nods gently, holding Harry’s face as he

thumbs away his heavily streaming tears. “You’re a wonderful father,
you hear me. You’re a good fucking dad.” He tells him in certainty,
forcing Harry to listen to him. “But you don’t have to do it by yourself
anymore. I’m here, ok? We have each other, you don’t have to worry
anymore. Together we can give her everything and more.”
Harry clings his entire body to Louis, curled up against him in his lap.
He’s never properly voiced his doubts and fears about being a parent,
vocalizing how hard it really is for him. And maybe he hadn’t yet
realized how much of a toll it was taking on him, how much he’s utterly
exhausted himself trying to overcompensate for every last thing, so
caught up in trying his best to take care of her that he hardly has time
to really take care of her. Being a single parent is hard, it’s so fucking
hard and what never fails to make it even harder is isolating himself
with his own demons, his own baggage. But finally opening up to
Louis with complete transparency about his darkest, guilt-ridden
thoughts, he can see how not alone he is in all this.
“I love you, H.” Louis murmurs to Harry’s hair, arms unwavering in

how steadfastly they hold Harry’s frame. And Harry feels so
overwhelmed with honest love and support, it overfills every last
corner of his heart.
“Move in with me.” Harry rushes out in one, vulnerable breath, gazing
openly at Louis. For months, they’ve been living between both of their
houses, although hardly ever spending a night apart since they got
together. “Officially, I mean.”
“Here?” Louis questions.

920
Harry shrugs, shaking his head without a real answer as he sniffles.
“Here. There—wherever. We spend every night together anyway, I
just want to be with you.”
Louis stays quiet for a few beats, searching Harry’s eyes. And Harry
can’t tell if it’s doubt or hesitation or what, but the silence is killing
him.
“Do you not want to live together?” Harry internally panics even more,
wondering if he read this situation totally wrong and now he’s jumping
the gun. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm Louis in any way
or force him into something he’s not ready to do. “It’s…it’s ok if you
don’t—I just thought that…um…”
“Harry, love, don’t be ridiculous. Of course I want to live together.”

Louis reassures him, brushing away the last few drops of saltwater on
Harry’s cheeks. “I mean, I did just promise everything to you.”
“Oh…” Harry breaths out in relief, sniffling again. “Then why did you
hesitate?”
“Because I think we should start over.” Louis answers. “Leave our

pasts behind and buy a new house together. Remember how you told
me that whenever you go to your house, you still think about the night
you found out Jesse cheated on you? It’s holding you back and keeping
you chained to the past. And this house, as much as I’ve loved it, still
reminds me of all the years I spent here without you…and it’s filled
with the old us and I don’t know… I think we need a new place that’s
for us right now, you know? A clean start.”
He’s right of course, Harry knows he is. They’ve each got so much
baggage and they’ve spent countless hours unpacking all of it together,
leaving no secrets between them. And after everything that’s happened
in their lives, they deserve a new beginning.
“I don’t want to go backwards, I don’t want to think of the past or

who we were when we first met or who we were while we were apart.”
921
Louis explains, earnest gaze still locked with Harry’s. “We’re so much
better now, love…and we’re growing together, and I think we need a
new space for us to continue to grow and move on, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Harry nods with a watery smile. Louis kisses him then,
expressing more than words can say. And Harry pours every part of
himself right back. That’s all he could ever want honestly. The chance
to start fresh and wipe the slate clean. The chance to leave behind
everything that could possibly hold them back. The chance to finally
move forward with the love of his life.
||✚||
Their 36th Date is far less exciting than most, consisting of warm
chicken noodle soup and cold compresses and Nyquil Severe Cold and
Flu liquid-gels all because Louis’ immune system can’t keep up with
the changing of seasons this year.
Harry canceled their original plans to go downtown, instead coming

home early from work to take care of Louis. After hearing Louis’
cracked voice on the phone, Harry knew he needed to go home and
make sure he’s alright.
Harry follows the sound of recurrent sneezing and pitiful sniffling

throughout the house until coming across his immunocompromised
boyfriend.
“Harry, I’m dyyying…” Louis groans with a stuffy nose, limbs fully
spread out across the bed, a bed that seems to be composed more of
tissues than of actual linens. He’s bundled up in one of Harry’s
sweatshirts with the hood thrown over his head, covering half of his
face, all that can really be seen is the tip of his nose and his lips. “Tell
Avery I love her and make sure to take Benny on a run every morning
if I don’t make it.”
“Hmm, so doctors can get sick.” Harry walks into the room and
straight to Louis’ side. “You know, I always wondered that as a child.”
922
“Of course we can. Doctors make the worst patients. Or so I’m told?”
Louis slightly lifts his head in consideration before losing the will to sit
up completely and flopping back down. “I don’t know…but I’m
dying.”
Harry climbs into bed next to Louis, propping his head up with his
arm. “You’re incredibly dramatic.”
“I’m dramatic?! How dare you, Harry! I’m on my death bed and you
don’t even care—” Louis’ hoarse voice cuts off as he uncontrollably
goes into a bout of sneezes, very cute, endearing sneezes Harry might
add.
“Of course, I care. I came home early just to care for you.” Harry
pushes back Louis’ hood from his head and uses the back of his hand
to feel his forehead. “Aww Lou, you’re really burning up, baby. What
can I do for you? What do you need?”
“Kiss it better.” Louis pouts, sniffling miserably. “And hold me while

I die.”
“And risk getting sick myself?” Harry hovers over him.
Louis nods slowly, still sniffing through his reddened stuffy nose,
looking far too adorable and cuddly to deny. Even while sick and
congested, he’s still so lovely and Harry couldn’t be more in love. “But
it’ll make me feel better and remind me just how much you love me in
my hour of need.”
“Aww, you’re so needy when you’re sick.” Harry grins amusedly

before obliging Louis’ requests, leaning in to kiss down the length of
his neck. “I love you.”
Louis curls up against him, tangling his socked feet in between Harry’s
legs as he closes his eyes. Harry rubs his back softly, feeling Louis’
breathing begin to even out.
923
“Lou?” Harry whispers after a few quiet minutes. “Louis?”
Louis offers no answer, unmoving as his eyes remaining closed. His

lips are parted slightly as he breathes and he’s making a tiny snoring
sound, probably due to the congestion in his chest.
“You fell asleep on me, huh?” Harry fonds, lips pressed to Louis’
hooded head. Harry could hold Louis for hours and never grow tired
of watching him sleep. But he does find it a little funny that Louis fell
asleep on him so quickly.
“Wooow.” Harry drags out, smiling down at Louis’ peaceful face. “I

risk my life and health for you and you fall asleep. Typical.”
Harry adjusts himself around on the bed until in a more comfortable

position with a snoring and sleeping Louis lying on top of him. Harry
lifts the book he was reading from the nightstand and right when he
finds the page he left off on, Louis’ pager and phone start going off at
the same time.
“I’m up! I’m up!” Louis sits up against Harry suddenly in alarm, hurling
an unsuspecting Harry flailing off the side of the bed. “Oh my god, H!
I’m so sorry, love. Are you alright?”
“Oh, I’m fantastic, thanks.” Harry answers from the floor, lying
amongst the pillows that also fell in Louis’ surprise reflex attack. It all
happened so fast, he wasn’t even prepared.
“I have to go to work.” Louis rasps, starting to edge himself off of the

bed.
“Louis, you have a fever.” Harry pushes him back down. He’s always
looking out for others more than himself, but right now he can’t be of
any use to anyone.
924
“But it’s an emergent page!” Louis protests, weakly attempting to force
himself out of bed with half open eyes. He has his pager in one hand
and his phone in the other, fiddling with the buttons of the pager.
“What are you doing? Give me that.” Harry confiscates the pager from
Louis’ feeble hold, pushing Louis back down onto the bed. “You can’t
go to work like this.”
“I just—I have to Harry, I have to…I—”
“You just claimed to be dying ten minutes ago.”
“I am dying, but I have a job. A re—resp—r—” Louis hurls into a

horrible coughing fit.
“Lay down, Lou.”
“Just really qu—qui—q-quick.” Louis wheezes and he sounds worse

than death. “My department is so understaffed right now, so many
people are on leave or sick and—they need me.”
“They’ll survive I’m sure.”
“But…but…but—”
“No.” Harry presses Louis all the way down, shifting his leg over to
straddle his hips. “You’re a work addict.”
“I don’t think the same rules apply, babe. I save lives for a living.”
“And I think that’s so sexy. You’re brilliant and kind and sweet…”
Harry murmurs, leaving light kisses across Louis’ face. “But you’re also
very sick and you’re not going anywhere. I’m putting you on bedrest.”
925
Louis, as defiant and determined as he is, still tries to roll over with his
phone. But he wouldn’t be the man Harry fell in love with if he didn’t
put up a fight. “Let me at least call—”
“I’ll call for you.” Harry snatches the phone right from Louis’
weakened grasp, which immediately draws a disgruntled frown from
his boyfriend.
“But Harry…” Louis sulks pitifully, sitting up a bit on weakened arms.
“Bedrest, darling. Bedrest.”
“Ugh…” Louis groans, throwing his head back against the pillows and
closing his eyes in defeat. But then he peeks them open again, turning
his body back towards Harry. “Will you kiss me and hold me again? It
feels better…”
“Will you fall asleep again?” Harry wonders as he pulls Louis back into
his arms. But truthfully all he wants is for Louis to fall asleep again and
let his body rest and begin to heal itself.
And Harry’s wish is apparently Louis’ command because in no time at

all, Louis’ body starts to feel like dead weight again, lying motionless
on top of Harry’s chest.
“Louis?”
He’s already fast asleep, confirmed by the return of his soft, little
snores escaping his airway.
“Louuuis?” Harry sings his name softly, kissing his nose. “I think I can
officially confirm that doctors really are the worst patients.”
||☤||
926
Consequently, the following evening on Date 37, they are both
rendered utterly useless, cuddled in bed together coughing and
sniffling, surrounded by a swarm of scrunched up tissues, empty tea
cups and cough drop wrappers.
“I blame you.” Harry wheezes, head resting in Louis’ lap as his weak
voice drones on. He’s been rambling on about how Louis got him sick,
since the moment he woke up burning from a fever. “I never should
have kissed your toxic lips.”
“It’s not my fault that you’re weak and can’t say no to me.” Louis half
grins, petting Harry’s hair feebly with his own head lulled against the
fabric headboard of the bed.
Harry tries to swat at Louis’ thigh for that, but in actuality it only feels
like a light tap. “I hate you. You’re a menace.”
With much difficulty and physical strain, Louis twists his tired body
down to press an excessively wet kiss to Harry’s unsuspecting lips. “I
love you too, babe.”
“Eww! Don’t kiss me!” Harry protest in vain, eyes closed as he whips
his head back and forth. “No, nooo! That’s so gross, Louis! Keep your
sick, diseased germs away from me!”
“You’re already sick with me, love. It’s far too late now.” Louis
blatantly licks a thick strip along Harry’s cheek, spreading as many
germs as possible.
“God, you’re so fucking nasty.” Harry groans, hardly flinching with

Louis’ tongue pressed obnoxiously to his cheek.
Louis laughs, but it sounds more like a wheezing croak that sputters
into an ugly cough. “You’re so bitter when you’re sick.”
“Ughhh, my whole body aches.” Harry groans again, throat sounding

unbelievably congested. “This is horrible.”
927
“You’re telling me.” Louis scoffs a bit. “And you had the audacity to
say that I was being dramatic yesterday. You fool.”
There is a little knock at the bedroom door, before it starts to creak

open and Avery pokes her head into their room.
“No, Avie! My innocent child, save yourself.”
“You’ll get sick, honey.” Louis worries seriously. Her immune system
may not be the strongest after all the chemotherapy she’s had over the
past year. If she were to get sick, it’d be much harder for her body to
fight off the effects of a common cold than it otherwise would be.
“It’s ok, I came prepared.” Avery assures, and maybe she’s right
because she’s nearly covered head to toe. An adult sized surgical mask
covers her entire face and she’s got on gloves for her hands and a little
blue disposable hair net too.
“Aww…look at you, my little doctor. I love it.” Louis’ face softens.

“But still you shouldn’t be in here, little love.”
“Yeah, that is very sweet, Munchie. But you really don’t have to take
care of us. We’re fine—” Harry can’t even finish his sentence before
spiraling into his next coughing fit, sounding like he’s only seconds
from hurling up a whole lobe of his lungs. “Still...f-fine…”
“Yeah…totally fine...” Louis rasps, hardly any sound coming from his
impossibly sore throat. “Your dad is just a drama queen...”
“Heyyy.” Harry whines as he sniffles through his stuffy nose.
“You both are drama queens to me.” Avery sighs to herself.
Harry and Louis both attempt to sit up and protest, but only end up
coughing and wheezing even more.
928
Avery shakes her head at both of them, sighing exasperatedly once
again as she sets down her tray on the far dresser. “Daddy, take this.”
She holds out a little perfectly measured cup of medication, before
turning to Louis. “Louis, sit up and take this.”
They both just stare at her incredulously, tiny cups held with weak
grasps.
Avery widens her eyes to urge them on. “Please.”
“Cheers, baby.” Harry knocks measuring cups with Louis as if it’s a

shot glass. “Date 37 and still going strong.”
“Ughhh…cheers.” Louis croaks weakly, closing his eyes as he throws

the bitter cough syrup back along with Harry, both of them wincing as
it coaxes down their throats.
“Very good boys. Now both of you drink these. All of it.” Avery hands
them each a fresh bottle of water. “Fluids are very important.”
Louis can’t help but grin. “You really are quite the little doctor, Aves.”
“Well I learned from the best.” Avery winks. “Now get some rest and
I’ll be back to check on you in an hour.”
“Oh no you won’t.” Louis denies instantly, reaching for his phone.
“I’m calling your Aunt Frankie right now to come get you. I don’t want
to risk you getting sick.”
Frankie moved to Seattle a few months back, repeatedly claiming that

it has absolutely nothing to do with Louis, but solely because she got
a really nice job offer in the city as the Head Chef of a new French
restaurant. He’s abundantly proud of her of course, but regardless of
what she says, Louis still tells her that he knows that deep down she
really moved here to be closer to him. But it’s good, really good
because even though their friendship is relatively new, Louis cares so
deeply for her and he’s happy to have her in his life. Plus, she and
929
Harry have grown to be practically inseparable; the best friends that
Frankie hoped for. They really are evil twins and when they get
together, there is literally no stopping them.
“But I feel fine and I want to take care of you.” Avery protests, and
Louis can see the makings of a frown behind all of her protective
medical gear.
“Aww, and you have, Munchie.” Harry tells her appreciatively. “But
we want to make sure that you stay safe and healthy.”
“Fineee.” Avery sighs dramatically, shuffling towards the door. “I’ll go

pack a bag I guess.”
“Thank you, my love.” Louis coughs into his arm. “It’ll only be for a
few days, I promise.”
“Can Benny come with me?”
“I’m sure he’d love to.” Harry nods. “But make sure you pack enough
food for him, Avie.”
“Ok, I will.”
“And make sure to wash your hands.” Louis adds next. “Fun fact, the
number one way to stop the flow bacteria is through proper hand
hygiene.”
“That’s what the nurses always say at the hospital.” Avery replies.
“Because it’s true! Wash your hands right when you leave this room
and take your gloves off.” Louis repeats again seriously. “I really don’t
want you to catch what we have, sweetheart.”
“Oh! And make sure you bring a sweater and a jacket and warm
socks.” Harry reminds. “It’s getting cold out.”
930
“Ok, ok, I will.” Avery answers, probably getting annoyed by all their
overprotective, worried reminders. “Anything else?”
“We looovvee youuu!” Harry and Louis sing–wheeze in harmony.
||✚||
“You live.” Frankie smiles as she opens the front door of her house.
“From how you both sounded on the phone the other day, I just
wasn’t sure.”
“Oh shut up, Frankie.” Louis laughs, leaning in to give her a hug.
“Wait, is it safe for you to hug me?” Frankie stops him, with a hand to
his chest. “What you had sounded godawful and I don’t want that.”
“Yes, I’m fine now. We both are.”
Frankie eyes both Harry and Louis suspiciously, looking unconvinced.
“Oh my god, Frankie.” Harry sighs, rolling his eyes and just hugging
her anyway. “Nice to see you too.”
“Might as well hug you too, I suppose. If I perish, I perish.” Frankie

embraces Louis next and Louis can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous
she always is.
“Thanks so much for watching Avery for us.”
“Yeah anytime, Harry. It’s not a problem.” Frankie waves off easily
“Besides I couldn’t let my girl die of toxins. She had to be rescued
from you and your diseased boyfriend.”
“It was a cold!” Louis stresses. “It was by no means deadly.”
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“That’s what you say now. But you sure sounded dead as fuck.”
Frankie reminds pointedly.
Harry laughs. “She’s not wrong, Lou. It was pretty bad.”
“Whatever.” Louis sighs. “Anyway, how was Avery?”
“Wonderful. I love that girl so much.” Frankie admits wholeheartedly.

“We had so much fun together. It was the best.”
“Where is she now?”
“Oh, she’s in the nursery. She loves holding my son, she adores him,
it’s seriously the cutest thing ever. She whispers to him and calls him
her baby and rocks him. Oh my god—you have to see it. I took a ton
of pictures of them, I’m like that embarrassing mom that won’t shut
up about her kids. I’ll send you the pictures.”
Frankie leads them through her house, the three of them tiptoeing to
the nursery quietly to peek their heads in the doorway. Avery is sitting
in a rocking chair, her feet not yet long enough to touch the floor,
cradling a swaddled baby Louis in her arms. She’s whispering what
sounds like a story to him and she drops several kisses to his forehead.
Harry gasps loudly, unable to contain himself from reacting. “Oh

my god!”
“I know, right?” Frankie agrees, glancing at him. “Cuteness overload.”
“Shh!” Avery admonishes them, holding the small swaddled infant

closer to her chest. “My Baby LouLou is sleeping.”
“My Baby LouLou—oh, they’re so adorable!” Louis gushes

expressively, hand over his heart. “I can’t deal with this.”
“Louis, are you crying?”
932
“…No?” Louis barely denies though soft sniffles. “Yes. I’m sorry,
ok—I just cry a lot now and I get emotional easily and I just got over
being sick and…I don’t know? It’s really fucking cute, ok? Leave me
alone.”
“Aww babe, you’re sooo soft.” Harry wraps his arms around him,
completely endeared. “I love how emotional you are.”
“Shut up.” Louis pouts, still sniffling as he leans back against Harry.
“You’re super soft too.”
Frankie smiles at them. “Imagine when you guys have a new baby,
you’ll never stop crying.”
“You’re getting a new baby?!” Avery gasps outright, suddenly overly

excited. “I want to be a big sister!”
Harry and Louis both pale at the same time, eyes wide and caught
extremely off guard. He and Louis are nowhere near the point in their
relationship where they would start expanding their new family.
They’re still just trying to adjust to being a couple in itself, they couldn’t
possibly even think about a baby.
Louis clears his throat first. “Hey…um…Frankie…weren’t you going

to show us something in the kitchen…yeah?”
“Yes—right, yes.” Frankie nods repeatedly.
The three of them make a hurried, uncoordinated escape from the

room, purposefully dodging Avery’s question. A question that they are
in no place to answer today.
“What…have…you…done?” Harry utters, spinning around in

accusation toward Frankie the second they’re safely down the hall.
“How did she even hear that from all the way over there?” Frankie
wonders, sounding genuinely confused.
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“She’s nine, she hears everything.” Harry whispers to Frankie, in what
sounds more like hiss. “Everything!”
“We will never hear the end of it now.” Louis sighs, shaking his head
regretfully. “You’ve sunk us.”
“Sorry?” Frankie pulls a face that perfectly embodies the word, ‘yikes’.
She shrugs apologetically. “I’m a new parent I didn’t know! I just
earned my mommy wings, ok.”
“You will pay for this.” Louis threatens.
“Ok but, serious question, boys.” Frankie leans in closer to them.

“How do you even fuck each other without her knowing or hearing
you?”
“Carefully. Very, very…carefully.” Harry describes slowly.
“It’s practically a skill.” Louis answers in consideration. “A hidden

talent, so to speak.”
“Timing is key, like midday when she’s at school is primetime. Showers

are great, cars are also great.” Harry lists. “It’s all about creativity,
really.”
“God, that’s awful.” Frankie grimaces. “How about to make it up to

you, I’ll babysit again tonight so you can go home and have the loudest
most reckless sex of your life in your own bed or anywhere else you
want in your house. Maybe the kitchen floor? The stairs? That sounds
pretty fun, right?”
Harry and Louis look over at each other, deliberating without the need
for words
“Oh no, we’re not that easy.” Harry decides after a beat. “You can
babysit for us once a week until Avery forgets about this.”
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“Which will be never.” Louis adds knowingly. “So just plan on making
it a part of your weekly routine until you die or she turns eighteen,
whichever comes first.”
“You’re in for the long haul with us now.” Harry smirks, slinging his
arm over Frankie’s shoulder as he pecks her cheek.
“Aren’t I just so lucky?”
||☤||
“And there they are. America’s most obvious couple.” Louis

announces, starting up an obnoxious round of applause as Niall and
Charlie walk down the hall with their fingers linked together. “You just
had sex, huh?”
“Louis!” Niall flushes beet red with embarrassment while Charlie’s jaw
drops in surprise. He looks around to see if anyone else overheard that,
but the hall is pretty much deserted apart from the three of them.
“Let me guess. In an on-call room?” Louis smiles knowingly.
“Please spare me.” Niall begs, pinching his brow.
“On the third floor, obviously, because the beds are slightly bigger.
Perfect for a little afternoon delight, am I right?” Louis continues,
relentless and loving it. “Not to mention that you both just got off of
the elevator. Together. Looking like…that.”
“Oh my god.” Charlies pales, dropping her head to Niall’s shoulder.
“Naughty, naughty.” Louis shakes his head, tsking his tongue

dramatically. “This is a hospital, you know? A professional place of
medicine and healing. Do you guys even get work done here or you
just come for a good fuck and go home?”
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“How the hell do you always know?” Niall groans.
“Nothing gets past me, Ni.” Louis grins slowly. “And to be honest
there is always a 50% chance that when I see you both together, you
just fucked. So, I usually just go for it. And so far, I’ve never been
wrong.”
Niall sighs heavily, cheeks still colored.
“Prove me wrong sometime, maybe?” Louis suggests with a smirk.
Charlie groans a bit. “My boss knows way too much about my sex life
and it’s mortifying.”
“Yeah about that…so on a serious note, Dr. Wesley.” Louis begins in

a more professional nature. “Have you rounded on my patients in
5341, 5271 and 5121 yet?”
Charlie somehow manages to pale even more than before. “Oh…um

well…uh no…not yet…”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Ms. Emmerson in 5341 really needs an enema
and her PICC line should be flushed with heparin before I discharge
her. Mr. Carson in 5271 is overdue for labwork and I’m changing his
med regimen, so Pharmacy needs to be called right away. And poor
Mr. Kim in 5121 has a ridiculous amount of puss coming out of his
wound that definitely needs to be debrided.” Louis riddles off. “And
it kinda sucks because I have a really cool spinal surgery today that I
was gonna let you scrub in on because you’re my resident,
but now since you’ve prioritized other personal matters, you’ve fallen
behind on tasks I gave you hours ago, and I have to pick someone
else.”
Charlie looks so embarrassed and frankly, mortified. “Sorry Dr.

Tomlinson. I um—I’ll get right on that—I’m really sorry.”
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“Ok, but also…you’re on scut until I tell you otherwise.” Louis says
next. He hates putting his residents on scut, but he can’t reward
unprofessional behavior. “Great sex or not, I’m your attending and if
I page you or give you an order, you need to answer and follow
through right away.”
Charlie nods remorsefully, looking like she’s ready to start crying from
being reprimanded. “Right, I understand. It won’t happen again. Um,
I’m gonna go start on that right now. Again, I’m really sorry, Dr.
Tomlinson.”
Niall shakes his head apologetically and mouths, “I’m so sorry” to her
as she starts to walk down the hall in the opposite direction.
“Well, fuck.” Niall groans.
“Are you gonna try to make me lighten up on your girlfriend?”
“No...” Niall blows out a steady stream of stressed air, running a hand
through his hair. “I mean it sucks, but we went though it too. She’s
your resident, and if it was my resident, I’d do the same thing. Fair is
fair. I’ve actually come to appreciate that you don’t give her special
treatment because of me. Although I do feel really, really bad because
she only ignored your page because I begged her to and I convinced
her that it wasn’t that important. I wasn’t even thinking—shit.”
“Wow, you’re a terrible boyfriend.” Louis disapproves. “I should put

you on scut.”
“Well, I’m an attending so fuck you.” Niall snaps back. “You think
she’ll be really mad at me?”
“Yes. Without a doubt.” Louis answers honestly. “It’ll be the last time
she listens to you, that’s for sure. I’m certain she didn’t work her ass
off to get here only to have her career derailed by you.”
937
“I would never derail her career. She amazes me—I love her, and I’m
always proud of her and I just want her to succeed in everything she
does, you know? She’s brilliant and talented.”
“I mean, I know all that obviously. She’s my best resident and I’m
kinda mad that I can’t use her this week. So, thanks.”
Niall lets out another deep sigh, looking apologetic and worried. “I’ll
find a way to make it up to her.”
Louis looks to Niall curiously. “How? With more on-call room sex?”
“No. Again, fuck you.” Niall frowns, giving Louis his middle finger.
Louis can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “You two are such a mess,
I don’t understand it. But I also support it, which is…baffling? She
must really love you or something because I would have kicked your
sorry ass to the curb by now.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m not your boyfriend then.”
“Oh god, me too. I quite like mine.”
“Hey, you want to grab a drink with me after your surgery?” Niall asks.
“I feel like I suddenly have no plans now that you’ve banished my
girlfriend to night of sad scut work.”
“Mmm sucks to be you I guess, but as it is your fault, I don’t feel bad
for you at all.” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe you could
help her out. Teamwork makes a dream work and all that. Sounds like
a fun couple activity, debriding oozing wounds and giving enemas. So
romantic.”
“Uh…fuck you, fuck you, and well, fuck you.” Niall fights off his
smile.
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Louis laughs. “Fuck you too, mate.”
“Ok, but about that drink, you in or not?”
“Tempting, Niall really, but I can’t tonight.” Louis answers while

typing out a reply to his boyfriend’s texts about their evening plans.
“Harry and I are going house hunting.”
“Oh, really?”
Louis looks up from his phone, grinning. “Yep. It’s a date. Our
59th Date, specifically.”
Niall makes a confused, considering face. “Since when is house

hunting a date?”
“Since Harry and I do it.” Louis beams happily, pocking his phone.
“And we make it really fun because we try to picture our lives in each
house and then we come up with little stories for each room. That’s
how we can tell if the house is for us or not.”
Niall feigns disgust, but it’s hardly genuine. “That’s gross. You guys
are fucking gross.”
“I know.” Louis smiles impossibly wide, sounding unabashedly proud.
“I take it the sex is good.”
“Oh, the sex is ridiculous level good—like, frustratingly good.”
“Frustratingly?”
“Yeah, because I don’t want to do anything else. At. All.” Louis

stresses, widening his eyes. “I could fuck Harry all day and then still
want to fuck Harry all day. You know what I mean?”
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Niall pulls another grossed out face. “No, because I obviously don’t
want to fuck Harry.”
“Ok, so exchange my ‘Harry’ for your ‘Charlie’ and I think the

sentiment is the same, if the last hour is anything to go by. Anyway,
he’s just so…” Louis sighs wistfully as he often does when he really
stops and thinks about Harry. He could easily get carried away if he
allows himself, if he starts devoting every last cell in his brain towards
fixating on all the wonderful things that make him love Harry so much.
And Louis has hardly got himself going, but he can practically feel
himself about to start rambling about their relationship. “God, I don’t
even know…he’s everything. And there really is no wrong way for us
to do it, which is fucking wild because there’s always a better way, you
know? But, like, I swear to god, there’s literally no wrong way to have
sex for us, we’re that good together. Not to brag but…we have law
defying sex every single time, which is totally unreal, right? Maybe it’s
the physical chemistry between us or our emotional compatibility or—
I don’t fucking know, but I can’t mentally get over it and I physically
can’t get enough of it and—are you even listening to me, Niall?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Niall sighs, not anywhere near as wistfully as

Louis, more so dead inside.
Louis doesn’t even feel slightly bad because he’s listened to Niall yap
about Charlie for the better portion of a year. He will continue to gush
and ramble nonsensically about Harry all he wants, and Niall will just
have to suck it up and support him as any best friend would. “But he’s
my favorite. My favorite person, my favorite smell, my favorite curls,
my favorite sense of humor, my favorite lips, my favorite hands, my
favorite voice, my favorite dimples…” He could go on and on with
this until he’s identified every last part of Harry, but most of all, Louis
is increasingly enjoying how annoyed Niall is getting the longer he
drones on. “And of course, my favorite ass.”
“You need help.” Niall tells him.
A slow grin mischievously spreads across Louis’ face. “And the great
thing is, I know exactly where to get it.”
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“Please don’t say it—”
“Harry’s ass.”
“Ok, enough.” Niall groans, dragging both his hands over his face.
“Really, that’s more than enough for me today.”
“You asked.” Louis shrugs, smirking.
“But I reaallly didn’t though.”
“Um bullshit. You just asked me if the sex is good. So yeah, you did.”
Louis recalls. “And you don’t have a leg to stand on, mate. I literally
just caught you and Charlie and not for the first time, I might add.”
“God, all I want to say to you is fuck you.” Niall laughs, glancing down
at his ringing pager. “It just fully encompasses my feelings right now.”
“Yeah? It’s such a great phrase. So emotive, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, exactly.” Niall nods with a grin as he starts down the
hallway. “So, um great chatting with you, have a good day, have a
successful surgery and um…fuck you?”
“Aww thanks, lad.” Louis smiles genuinely, waving his right middle
finger. “Same to you.”
||✚||
They’re on their way to Frankie’s restaurant for a late lunch together,

just him and Avery. A daddy-daughter lunch date. Harry has the day
off, so he surprised Avery by picking her up a tad early from school.
To say she is excited, is an understatement, that girl is elated. She’s all
smiles and it warms his heart just to see her so happy to be spending
time with him.
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The restaurant is in the center of downtown Seattle, so they park a
little further out and walk the rest of the way. Avery is doing a bit less
walking, and a lot more skipping, happily swinging her and Harry’s
joined hands. It starts to rain before they make it to the building, but
Avery is more than prepared in her teal blue rainboots and she
continues to skip along undeterred. She does, however, pause for a
moment to smile up at Harry and tell him that it’s exactly like her
favorite movie, Singing in the Rain. Harry grins back at her and begins
to hum the familiar melody of the famous song from the movie, which
Avery joins right in on, and together they hop and skip and sing all the
way to the restaurant. Truly, what a glorious feeling.
It’s a lovely restaurant, modern but warm and inviting. The two of
them are only standing in the entryway for seconds before Frankie
comes greeting them from the back kitchen, dressed professionally in
uniform. “You made it!”
“Of course.” Harry lightly kisses her cheek in greeting. “Thank you for
hosting our little date.”
“Are you kidding, Harry? I’m so happy to!” Frankie grins widely.
“Hi Aunt Frankie!”
“Hi lovie! Come here you.” Frankie crouches down to give her a warm
hug. “Yes, yes, and yes to the entire outfit by the way. You are rocking
those rainboots, my girl. Already a fashion queen at the ripe age of
nine years old, I love that.”
Avery beams at the compliment, clicking her booted heels together.

“You like them?”
“Like them? Girl, I would totally steal them right off your feet if we
wore the same size.” Frankie tells her seriously, which has Avery
giggling. “Honestly, they’re so cute, I may just squeeze my big,
flintstone feet into them anyway.”
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“Please don’t go stealing my child’s shoes.” Harry warns, still grinning
though.
“Oh, mind your business, Harold.” Frankie waves off.
“I would let you borrow them if they fit you, Aunt Frankie.” Avery
offers sweetly.
“Ooh, you’re just the sweetest, I love you.” Frankie hugs her again.
“Let me show you to your table.”
Frankie set aside a whole private area for just them, and it makes their
time together feel that much more special. The two of them get settled
in to their table and Avery is clearly already loving it, she literally has
not stopped smiling once.
“So, I’m not giving you menus because I already have the perfect lunch
planned out for you.” Frankie explains, standing at the end of their
table.
“You do?” Harry wonders curiously.
“Of course I do, Harry. It’s me.”
Avery laughs, finding her aunt so hilarious. “What is it?”
“Snails.” Frankie dramatically widens her eyes as she says it, obviously
trying to gross Avery out.
Avery pulls an utterly disgusted face. “Ew! Snails!?”
“Oh my god—what?” Frankie gasps as though appalled at Avery’s

reaction. “Little queen, you don’t like snails? This just won’t do.”
“Aunt Frankie, please don’t make me eat snails.” Avery worries

genuinely.
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“She would never, Avie.” Harry reassures his daughter. “She’s just
messing with you.”
“Well, who knows what I’ll whip up. This is a French restaurant after
all, anything goes.” Frankie shrugs with a teasing smile. “Anyway,
lovie, when are you coming over next? My Louis is always looking for
you.”
“Aww, is he? I miss him, I haven’t seen him in almost five days now.”
Avery says as though that is such a long amount of time. “I need to
see my baby.”
“Well, you’ll see him tomorrow, Munch.” Harry tells her. “Your aunt
is watching you tomorrow night.”
He and Louis have got a wonderful schedule going with Frankie. She
babysits Avery once a week as promised, sometimes more if she offers
or if they need it and it gives Harry and Louis time to be alone as a
couple.
“Oh! That’s right!” Frankie smiles widely. “Yay! We can have another
girls’ night. How awesome does that sound?”
“Except for baby Louis.” Avery reminds. She really is so obsessed with
that baby. He is ridiculously cute though, so it makes sense.
“Except for baby Louis.” Frankie repeats with a nod. “He’s the only
boy I trust.”
“Hmm. That makes sense.” Avery considers thoughtfully. “Boys are

kinda sneaky.”
“Oh girlfriend, you have no idea.” Frankie replies with pursed lips.
“But we’ll talk all about it during our girls’ night.”
“Just curious…what exactly do you girls do during girls’ night?” Harry

asks innocently.
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Frankie raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you identify as a girl?”
“Well, no but—”
“Then it doesn’t concern you, does it.” Frankie interjects, rolling her
eyes as she looks back to Avery with a scoff. “Boys, am I right?”
Avery giggles again, looking up apologetically at him with a shrug.

“Sorry Daddy.”
Harry’s not even slightly mad about it. He is so glad that Avery has a
strong-willed woman as one of her role models. Gemma was a feisty,
highly opinionated woman, same as Frankie, and without her mother
around, Avery needs that kind of example to look up to. She’s rapidly
growing into a young woman and that female empowerment and
validation is so important in her life. Avery knows she can come to
Harry about literally anything under the sun and he’ll support her and
talk it out with her to the best of his human ability and if he doesn’t
know the answer himself, he’ll research it until he utterly exhausts
himself. But she still may face things that he can’t fully understand
because he’s never experienced them, and it’s comforting that she has
more people who love her that she can turn to when she needs them.
It really does take a village to raise a child.
“Alright babes. I’ve gotta get back to the kitchen now. Enjoy your
daddy-daughter lunch date. No snails, I promise.” Frankie winks,
blowing them both kisses.
“Thanks, Frankie.”
“See you later, Aunt Frankie!”
“Bye lovie!”
||☤||
945
For once Louis is leaving work on time to meet Harry for their
68th Date. It was that rare, productive kind of day where Louis only
had his scheduled surgeries, all of which went brilliantly and left plenty
of time for him to update all his charts, answer his emails and he even
got a head start on the quarterly reports due for his department.
But Louis probably should have been more suspicious of a day like
that in his field because right as he reaches his car in the parking lot,
his pager goes off in his jacket pocket.
“Oh, for fucks sake.” Louis sighs, internally praying it’s just a
throwaway page, something that won’t derail his entire evening with
Harry. If he’s lucky it’ll just be one of his residents double checking
one of his medication orders, or maybe just a chart he needs to sign
off on for discharge. But as Louis checks the page, he is hardly shocked
to find it to be a 911 page, calling for his immediate help in the
emergency room.
“I was this close.” Louis groans as he turns back towards the medical
center in a jog. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help, of course he does,
this is his passion after all. It’s just that all day he’s been looking
forward to the microbrewery date Harry planned for them. They’ve
been texting off and on throughout the day about it, and Louis was
getting really excited about the prospect of making dumb jokes while
critiquing different beers with Harry. It was bound to be a fun time.
When Louis gets to the E.R., it’s a mad house as usual, doctors and
nurses running around urgently, calling out orders over the pained
sounds of various patients suffering through different levels of trauma.
“Dr. Tomlinson, we need you over here.”
“How bad is it?” Louis asks the E.R. charge nurse.
“A husband and wife. Car accident. Husband, the driver, suffered a

head lac from the windshield. Possible diffusion axonal injury with
intercranial hemorrhaging. Possible C-spine damage, waiting for scans
to confirm. Second and third degree burns cover his left side.” The
946
nurse riddles off at a rapid pace. “Wife sustained bowel perforations
as well as a shattered pelvis. Possible lumbar fracture. We need a neuro
consult on both.”
“Shit.” Louis breathes out, knowing he’s in for a long night. He starts
gowning up with a fresh trauma gown and gloves, heading over to the
first patient to start evaluating how he should prioritize his time. From
the sound of it, the husband will require Neuro first, while the wife
needs General for the abdominal bleed.
“Could you page my resident here please?” Louis requests as he enters

the exam room. “Dr. Wesley.”
The nurse nods. “Right away, Doctor.”
“Ortho’s here.” Liam comes sprinting into the emergency room,

snapping gloves over his hands. “Where do you want me?”
“Bed 2, Dr. Payne.” The charge nurse directs Liam towards the same
patient as Louis.
“What do we got?” Liam asks Louis, quickly looking over the patient’s
chart.
“What don’t we got?” Louis answers briefly, checking pupillary

function. The patient is completely unconscious, his body most likely
shut down out of preservation due to the severe level of trauma and
pain. “It’s pretty bad.”
Liam nods, setting the chart down and getting right to work assessing
the patient’s spinal injury across from Louis. “Tomlinson, are you on-
call tonight?”
“Well, I—”
“Hey Tommo, I didn’t expect to see you here. Date’s over already?”
Zayn enters the exam room, gowned up to address the patient’s burns.
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“It never started.” Louis says as he makes quick work of his
neurological exam, assessing the severity of damage. “And no, I’m not
on call tonight, Li. But it looks like I’ll be here anyway.” He turns his
attention to the E.R. charge nurse. “Book an O.R. immediately. Severe
DAI confirmed as well as unresolved hemorrhaging.”
“Also, we don’t need to wait for C-spine scans to confirm an

aggravated disk herniation at C3.” Liam adds quickly. “I’ll scrub in with
Dr. Tomlinson.”
“Got it.” The nurse notes, heading back to the nurses’ station.
Liam and Louis begin assuring the stabilization of their patient for
immediate surgery, while Zayn does what he can to pretreat the severe
burns afflicting the vast majority of his skin to prevent infection. From
the looks of it, the patient’s blistering burns are going to take hours of
surgical debridement in the O.R. and on top of the cerebral repairs,
Louis will probably need to assist Zayn with the nerve damage. They
are definitely in for a very long night.
“So Louis how is that going anyway?” Liam asks, while carefully
stabilizing the cervical spine to prevent further damage. “You’ve gone
on how many dates with Harry now?”
“Li, pass me a stack of hydrogels, would you?” Zayn nods towards the
wound dressing cart.
“We’ve had 67 dates.” Louis answers, smiling to himself. Honestly, he

can’t believe it’s already been that many. “Tonight would have been
Date 68, but I don’t think I’m going to make it anymore.”
“So how does it work exactly? Like is it just every time you get together
it’s a date?” Zayn wonders.
“Yeah basically. It’s not always extravagant, planned out dates.

Sometimes we don’t do anything but take a nap together or watch a
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random Disney movie with Avery, but I don’t know…it’s always
still…perfect.”
“Look at you, all domestic and soft and shit.” Zayn grins knowingly as
he delicately places another set of bandages. “I bet you actually grocery
shop now.”
“Shut up.” Louis smiles, pausing to type out a few orders on the
patient’s chart for the O.R. staff to have ready when they get up there.
“I do, by the way. Harry and I have actually done that as a date.”
“So domestic.” Zayn teases. “That’s the real power of love right there.”
“You would know. You do all the shopping for our house.” Liam says.
“That’s what I’m saying!” Zayn agrees, securing another hydrocolloid

bandage. “Now ask me how often I went to the grocery store when I
was single. The answer is never. I couldn’t even tell you where the
closest one was back then. But now I even have a favorite store.”
“A favorite store? Really, Zayn?”
“Oh yeah man, Ken’s Market, downtown—it has locally grown

produce, it’s the best. And the wine selection is pretty good too.” Zayn
chatters. “You and Harry should go on your next date.”
“I’ll pass it on to him, he’ll love it” Louis grins.
“Ok, I’m good to go up to the O.R. now, if you boys are.” Zayn
announces, finishing up the last of his initial dressings.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Charlie bursts into the exam room in a flurry,
clearly out of breath from sprinting here. “Sorry Dr. Tomlinson—I
came as fast as I could, I swear.”
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“It’s alright, Wesley.” Louis dismisses as he, Liam, and Zayn start
pushing the gurney out of the exam room. “I need you to call Harry
for me and tell him that I can’t make it tonight. Make sure you say how
sorry I am and all that…and tell him that I’ll call him whenever I can.”
“Um…ok. Yes, sir.” Charlie nods repeatedly, following after him.

“Is…is that all?”
“No, this patient has a severe DAI aggravated by an ICH from the
impact of the accident.” Louis quickly briefs her. “You’ve never seen
those injuries together, right?”
Charlie shakes her head. “No, I’ve never seen one.”
“Tell me the most important thing to monitor for in traumatic injuries

like this.” Louis tests.
“Oh—um we would monitor for the occurrence of a secondary brain

injury.”
“And what would that present as exactly?”
“Hypoxia, cerebral edema, ischemia and elevated ICP.” Charlie

answers quickly. “There could also be signs of acidosis or
hypercapnia.”
Louis gives her a proud smile. “You’re scrubbing in with me.”
“Wait, really?” Charlie gasps in hopeful surprise. “I’m off scut?”
“Yes, really. Hurry up.” Louis calls over his shoulder, already halfway
down the hall and exiting the main E.R doors. “Meet me in O.R. three
when you’re done.”
“Right got it. Thank you so much, Dr. Tomlinson!” Charlie enthuses,
unable to keep the smile off of her face. Louis remembers exactly how
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exciting it is to be finally taken off of scut duty and he’s happy to have
his favorite resident back.
||☤||
When Louis gets out of his surgery, that ended up totaling 12 hours,
he’s dead tired. The whole procedure was riddled with unexpected
repairs and unforeseen complications, his patient knocked right on
death’s door several times but somehow kept pulling through, leaving
Louis not only physically drained, but emotionally drained. The good
thing is that his patient is stable and made it off the table alive, but on
the downside the patient’s wife is still in critical condition and once
General and Ortho finish up, Louis has still got a whole other surgery
to complete. And to be honest, he doesn’t really know what is going
to get him through that, but he just needs a moment not to think about
it. So he pulls his phone out of his pocket to finally call Harry.
It’s 7:57 A.M. so that means he has probably just dropped Avery off
at school. Louis’ brain is so frazzled that he can’t quite remember if
Harry works today or not, but if he doesn’t then he should be free
right about now.
The dial tone only rings twice before Harry picks up, and Louis has
honestly never been more thankful.
“Hi baby.” Harry greets warmly through the speaker and his voice
alone grounds Louis instantly as it notoriously does. “Good morning.”
“Morning, love.” Louis answers over a heavy yawn that morphs his
entire voice. “Look, I’m really sorry about last night. There was a—”
“No need to apologize Lou, I know who I’m dating.” Harry answers,
without needing the lengthy excuse Louis was prepared to give him.
“And Charlie honestly painted the most heroic and beautiful picture
of you when she called me last night. Not that I didn't already know
you’re a fucking hero.”
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Louis wants to laugh, but it ends up coming out as weak gust of
amused breath. He scrubs a hand over his face, knowing he needs to
go find a good, strong cup of coffee before he goes back in.
“Aww Lou, babe, are you done for the day?”
Louis can practically see the concerned frown forming on Harry’s face
through the sound of his voice alone. “No, not yet. I’ve gotta go back
in there in a bit actually.”
“But you sound so tired, baby.” Harry continues to worry. “Are you
sure you’re alright?”
“I’ll be ok…yeah. Stop worrying, H. My part of the surgery shouldn’t

take too long and I’ve definitely done worse in my career.” Louis
begins to push the door open to the attendings’ lounge, hoping to find
some spare food he can scrounge off of.
“Well, have you eaten anything?”
“No, I—” Louis’ voice drops off, jaw falling open as he gazes into the
lounge.
Harry is there balancing a tray of coffee and a bag of scones with his
phone wedged between his ear and shoulder. When he meets Louis’
eyes, he offers him a cute little shrug. “Twenty-minute coffee date?
I’ve got lattes—yours has three shots of espresso in it to hopefully
wake you up a bit and then of course, your favorite scones.”
The sight of his boyfriend alone is enough to make his exhausted body
want to cry. He swears he loves Harry a little more each and every day.
Louis doesn’t even know how he got into the attendings’ lounge, but
he doesn’t even give a shit. Harry drops the breakfast goods onto the
table and silently holds his arms open in invitation.
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Louis instantly sags into Harry’s arms without a second’s hesitation,
hardly even holding himself up as he tosses his weight at Harry. “Fuck,
I love you so much.”
Harry kisses the crown of Louis’ head, enveloping his body

completely. “And all it took was a scone.”
Louis hums, tilting his head back to look up at Harry. “You’re honestly
the best boyfriend in the world, you know that?”
“So it’s safe to say that the wooing is working?” Harry drops a kiss to
Louis’ nose. “Cuz I’m really busting my ass.”
“Ooh…” Louis sighs contently, biting his lower lip in a full grin. “The
wooing is definitely working.”
And for twenty minutes Louis snuggles up to Harry on one of the

couches with a warm cup of coffee in his hands for Date 68. Harry
lightly trails his fingertips up and down Louis’ back and Louis could
easily fall asleep, he is so completely at peace. But he’s also way more
awake as his highly caffeinated drink starts to kick in.
Louis tips his head back against Harry’s shoulder, sitting up to kiss the
corner of Harry’s mouth. “Thank you, H.”
“Anytime, babe.”
“I’d like to say that I’m gonna come over tonight and really thank you,
but I’d probably just pass out on top of you.”
Harry smirks in interest. “I can’t say I would completely mind that

actually.”
“Ok, let’s just plan on that then, we can get naked and I’ll use you as
my pillow and fall asleep.” Louis describes, sounding perfectly serious.
“Perfect date night.”
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“So perfect.” Harry laughs, sipping his own latte. “You know what I
want to do sometime?”
“What’s that?” Louis adjusts so he can better see Harry’s face.
“On-call room sex.” Harry suggests with a naughty, wicked sort of

glint in his eye.
Louis is already protesting, shaking his head. “Oh no babe, but you’re
worth so much more to me than that.”
“Mmm, I know but…it’d be kinda hot, yeah?”
“No?” Louis pulls a disturbed face.
“Yes.” Harry nods encouragingly, raising his eyebrows. “You… and

your scrubs…”
“I thought you weren’t into that kind of thing.” Louis breaks off a
piece of his chocolate scone. “I specifically remember you saying that
once upon a time.”
“Well that was probably a premature decision because it was well

before you started wearing navy scrubs.” Harry explains, his gaze
deviating to run along Louis’ body. “It does things to your eyes and
with the stubble on your cheeks—It’s distracting. You’re just so much
hotter now.”
“So I wasn’t hot before?”
“Oh, you definitely were, but now...it’s just…wow. You know?” Harry
describes, in a way that frankly makes no sense, but Louis will allow it.
“I think it’s really the scrubs. I just love navy scrubs.”
Louis laughs a bit. “I could get you your own pair of scrubs, if that’s
what you’re really interested in.”
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“No, I’m interested in you in the scrubs. But actually—ooh, that could
be really fun.” Harry sits up as he thinks about it more, eyes lighting
up excitedly. “You could be my patient.”
Louis grins slowly, raising his eyebrows in amusement. “Are you

suggesting that we play doctor?”
“I’m not not suggesting it.” Harry smirks knowingly.
“…In an on-call room?” Louis finishes. “A dirty, gross, tiny,

cramped, pathetic on-call room…”
“For me, baby consider it for me.” Harry pleads, pouting a bit. “You
know you want to. Deep down, you know it would be fun.”
Louis goes back to sipping on his coffee with both hands around the
cup. “I’ll blow you in an on-call room, but that’s where I draw the
line.”
“You know what, I’ll take that.” Harry nods amicably, shrugging. “Just
know that you’re limiting us sexually. So that’s that.”
Louis sighs, rolling his eyes, but there’s still a grin on his lips. “Ok,
how about this, I’ll get you a pair of scrubs and you can show up and
page me to meet you. And if I’m not in surgery…I’ll take you to an
on-call room…”
“A real-life booty call.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows stupidly. “I can’t

fucking wait.”
“But!” Louis interjects with one finger held up. “If I’m already in
surgery, then tough luck, lover boy. You can enjoy yourself in on-call
room.”
“Easy. It’s all about timing. I think I pretty much have your usual
schedule memorized anyway, so get your throat ready for a full on-call
room experience.”
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Louis chokes on his coffee, laughing unexpectedly, “I can’t believe you
just said that out loud.”
Harry smirks, clearly proud of himself. “It’s true.”
“Maybe not. As of right now, I’m switching up my schedule

completely, so you’ll never know where I am. Plus, I’m always getting
paged all over this hospital, who knows where I’ll be.”
“Oh please, you’re just trying to scare me and throw me off. But I’m
not falling for that, babe.” Harry scoffs, undeterred. “I know you too
well to be played by you. You’re a creature of habit and you’re not
changing shit. The pages are a bit of a road block, but I’m not
worried.”
“Overconfidence is a gateway to failure so…”
“Or perhaps it is the path to a perfectly timed blowjob.”
Louis giggles fondly, shaking his head. “You’re a lost cause.”
Louis’ pager starts to ring with the pre-op page he’s been dreading.
“Noooo, five more minutes.” He pitifully begs the ringer, shaking his
head and snuggling closer to Harry. It’s honestly just what he needed
to get through the rest of the day: a fresh coffee, a good laugh and a
warm cuddle with his boyfriend.
“Hey, go be my hero.” Harry whispers softly against Louis’ hair. “And

tonight, we can 69 on Date 69.”
Louis cracks up again, nearly tipping over his coffee as he laughs. He

casts his head all the way back against Harry’s shoulder to look up at
him, smiling wide. “Promise?”
“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it intently since our fifth date to be
honest.” Harry smirks, kissing Louis’ nose. “It’s happening. Well, as
long as you can stay awake. Maybe you should have a nap first.”
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“As long as I can use your ass as a pillow.”
“Ooh, please, I’d be sooo honored.”
||✚||
It’s their 72nd Date and somehow they find themselves in a place
they’ve found themselves time and time again. Well, actually they
didn’t just find themselves here, Louis literally dragged Harry all the
way up here without cause or reason or explanation. It’s not the first
time it’s happened, but this time around, Harry’s only complaint is that
it’s nearing midnight and all he wants to do is take off his suit and fall
into bed. It doesn’t help that Louis has been acting weird all night long.
He took Harry out for a lovely, romantic dinner at an extravagant
restaurant, but the entire time he seemed to be completely distracted
about something. He was also spacey and ridiculously jumpy, which
isn’t like him at all. And now, he just won’t talk and Harry is not sure
why.
“Babe, you know I always love coming up here with you…but why
must we do this now?” Harry questions, yawning heavily. “I just wanna
go to bed.”
Harry wouldn’t say that he’s irritated, but he is really tired and when
he’s tired, he knows he can be irritable. But there’s clearly something
bothering Louis and Harry is determined to get to the bottom of it.
“Louis?” Harry calls his name softly. “Lou, baby, are you ok? You
haven’t been yourself all night.”
Louis doesn’t respond at all and it’s like he’s in some kind of focused
trance or maybe even on the verge of an emotional storm. They make
it out of the forest and to the open grassy clearing and there’s nothing
but silence between them and it’s starting to worry the shit out of
Harry.
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“Louis? Please just talk to me.” Harry practically begs of him, tenderly
squeezing his hand. “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong
or say something or—”
That seems to snap Louis right out of it and he turns around then,
looking so sincerely apologetic. “Oh my god, no—no, Harry you didn’t
do anything wrong, love. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to
worry you—I’ve been in my head all fucking night…and I think I’ve
probably ruined our date. Fuck.”
Harry shakes his head, expression softening. “No, never. You didn’t
ruin it, Lou.”
“I did.” Louis sighs heavily, lowering his head. “It’s ok, you can say it.”
“Maybe not my favorite date…” Harry admits slowly, offering Louis

a guilty expression. “But that’s ok, bad dates are ok. They still make
for fun memories after all, right?”
It gets Louis to laugh a little, although he’s still clearly stressed.

“Yeah…I guess…”
Harry tilts his head. “Are you going to tell me, first, what’s going on
with you and second, why we are up here at twelve in the morning?”
Louis exhales, heavy and long, running both of his hands through his
fringe. “Ok so…I did something big…and um…all night I’ve been
trying to figure out a way to tell you about it—that’s why I wanted to
go somewhere really nice and special. But then I kept talking myself
out of telling you because it suddenly sounded like a fucking terrible
shit idea and I think I might have completely psyched myself out
thinking you’d hate it or something and…I don’t know, Harry? I…I’m
overthinking everything…so I brought you up here because I thought it
would make more sense that way…but…”
Harry simply goads Louis into a gentle hug in leu of a response,

rubbing his back until he begins to settle down a bit in his arms. And
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Louis hugs him back tightly, burying his head to Harry’s chest. Louis
said it was something big and Harry has no idea what that could mean,
but what Harry does know is that because of his past, big steps
sometimes cause Louis to panic or overthink to extreme degrees. And
all Harry wants Louis to know is that it’s ok and that he can panic and
freak out for as long as he needs, and Harry will still be right there
waiting. “Whatever it is, Lou…I promise I want to hear it and we can
stand out here all night until you’re ready to tell me. There’s no
pressure.”
Louis nods gradually, still clinging to Harry’s midsection with his head
pressed to where Harry’s heart is beating. “Thank you, H.”
“Of course, baby.” Harry drops a kiss to Louis’ temple. “I only care
about one thing and that, my love, is you.”
Louis takes another long breath before separating himself from Harry
completely. He starts pacing back and forth in small circles, seeming
to be silently deliberating with himself. “Ok, fuck it—here it goes. So
I’ve been thinking and you know how none of the houses we look at
feel right?”
Harry nods his head slowly, uncertain of where Louis is going with
this. “Yeah…”
“Yeah…” Louis nods along with him. “That’s cuz they aren’t right.
Not for us. There isn’t a house for us.”
Harry keeps nodding and they probably look like two broken
bobbleheads, but he just wants Louis to feel encouraged enough to
finish his thought. “Ok…”
Louis pauses to look around for a moment. “But this place...it’s always
felt, I don’t know like…home.”
Harry’s eyebrows are furrowed as he looks to Louis incredulously,

attempting to put the missing pieces together.
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“I bought it.” Louis’ face breaks into a full, but still impossibly nervous
smile. “We bought it.”
Harry blinks, trying to process the words coming from Louis’ mouth.
“Maybe it was impulsive, or something, fuck—I don’t know…” Louis

shakes his head, hand in his hair. “We’ve been trespassing for
years…but it’s ours now, baby. It’s ours to do whatever we want with
it.”
Harry is totally speechless. He looks around at the welcomingly

familiar meadow filled with memories that thread together their story.
And for them to be able to call this place home, wholly and truly home,
it’s…well, it’s everything.
“Oh my god—say something Harry, please.” Louis panics a little, still

pacing back and forth in the open field. “Am I absolutely ridiculous
for buying this? I mean it made sense in my head? At first at least. But
I don’t know…it’ll take a while, you know? To find the right contractor
and figure out the design and then get it all built but…I think the wait
would be worth it in the end? Right?”
Harry turns back to face Louis again and his face splits as he lets out a
watery exhale, on the verge of fully breaking down into tears.
“You’re…you’re building us a house?”
Louis starts to nod his head again slowly, tearing up more and more
the longer he gazes at Harry. “Yeah…”
Harry gasps expressively and he’s no longer just on the verge of tears,
no, he’s full steam ahead, well on his way to bawling his eyes out. Harry
truly can’t believe it. Why is his boyfriend, like, the sweetest man ever?
“Harry, I swear I’m going to build you the perfect house.” Louis
declares and there’s so much hope and wonder behind his voice. “And
we can design every single part of it together and it’ll be made just for
us and our family and our future. Whatever you want, H…anything you
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want—name it and it’s yours, baby. I want to give you everything you
ever wanted.”
“L-Louis…” Harry’s voice is hardly audible, he can’t begin to stop
crying—it’s far too much and he can’t take it.
Louis starts walking around the field, walking the potential outline of
where their future house will one day stand. “We could put a breakfast
nook over here, because you always like to look out of the window
when you have tea in the morning. And we’ll build you a really big
kitchen with, like, four ovens so you can cook and bake whatever you
want with Avery. And…we could have a swing set built in the
backyard for our kids, maybe a pool or something too, they’d love that,
I think. I know Avery will…”
“Our k-kids.” Harry sobs, hand over his mouth.
“Yeah, our kids…” Louis nods emotionally, crying too. “We have to
have a ton of bedrooms for them and a room for them to play and
have tea parties and pillow fights and fun stuff like that. Avery will
probably want to make all the decisions about her room, so I won’t
say anything else about it, I’ll leave it all to her.”
Harry laughs fondly and it’s wet and impossibly choked up.
“I think we should have a porch that wraps around our entire house
and a really big patio so we can have our Saturday brunches outside
sometimes.” Louis envisions thoughtfully. “And our bedroom could
face this way…with a sky roof so we can wake up to our favorite view
every morning and fall asleep under the stars…” Louis describes the
way he sees it in his head and the way he depicts it, it’s like Harry can
already picture it perfectly and it’s so beautiful, and Harry is only getting
more and more overwhelmed. “And that feeling we always get coming
up here…our feeling that only we know…the one we never, ever want
to forget…we’ll always have it whenever we come home…”
There’s far too much space between them right now and Harry is
practically running over to where Louis is across the meadow, jumping
into his arms with enough force to send them both toppling down to
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the grass. They’re both laughing and crying and kissing and it all feels
so perfect, hardly even real.
“I l-love you. I love you.” Harry cries expressively, scattering frantic

kisses to Louis’ cheeks and his nose and his forehead and his chin,
anywhere his lips can reach, overcome with so much love for him. “It’s
p-perfect…it’s everything—I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too.” Louis whispers back, reaching up to hold the sides
of Harry’s face, brushing his flopping hair away from his eyes. “And
I’m sorry for overthinking it so much earlier.”
“Don’t be sorry, Lou. This is really, really big.” Harry sniffles, residual
tears still tracking his cheeks. “Also, it’s definitely one of my favorite
dates now.”
Louis laughs, caressing Harry’s cheekbone. “Well, I’m glad I could

rectify the date I almost killed.”
“So, if we were to have sex right now, it wouldn’t be public indecency,

right? It would just be me making love to the love of my life in my
house.”
“I just love how that brain of yours thinks.” Louis grins, pulling
Harry’s head back down to kiss him again.
“Me too.”
||☤||
It’s Saturday.
It’s Saturday and that automatically means that there will be some sort
of brunch being held in their house. It has quickly become a raving
tradition in their family, something they all look forward to each and
every week. Sometimes Niall and Charlie will come over and join them
962
or Zayn and Liam or even both couples if Harry and Louis are up to
cooking that much food. Frankie joins them quite often as well, and
what’s wonderful about her is that she completely takes over cooking
everything and it always tastes absolutely delicious. Just one of the
many perks of having a super talented chef as an adopted family
member.
But on this particular Saturday, it’s just the three of them. These things
are never too rushed; they usually mosey down to the kitchen around
mid-morning still in pajamas or sweats and then Harry likes to
officially announce their chosen menu for the day and then they all
cook together.
Avery and Louis are sitting next to each other on the barstools along
the kitchen island, both of them sipping on fresh mugs of tea while
they await Harry’s brunch announcement.
“Alright, it has come to my attention that today or sometime around

now—I’m not exactly certain of the specifics, but it doesn’t matter
because we are doing this—anyway—for all intents and purposes, today
is our lovely Benedict’s 10th birthday. And in honor of our favorite
pup, we will be having none other than Eggs Benedict for our Saturday
brunch.”
“Daddy, what is Eggs Benedict, and will I like it?” Avery asks right
away, sounding worried.
“It’s disgusting and no you will not.” Louis answers certainly before
Harry can.
“No, no.” Harry waves Louis off. “Munch, you will keep an open mind
and try it and who knows you may have a new favorite food.”
“Don’t lie to the poor girl, Harry.” Louis turns his barstool to Avery.
“Eggs Benedict is like sad runny egg sauce on a toasted muffin with a
random slab of meat in the middle. The textures are weird the flavors
are even more weird—it’s awful.”
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“Eww, yuck.” Avery makes a disgusted face. “Daddy, I don’t want
that.”
“Me either. Poached eggs are a sin. A crime against all humanity.”
Louis complains with his nose upturned. “Why can’t we have eggs on
toast like sane people? Or a nice fry-up? Something wholesome.”
“Enough. This is for Benedict, ok?” Harry tries again, more

determined. “Avery, sweetheart, if you don’t like it, there is always
cereal.”
“Cereal?” Louis gasps in exaggerated horror. “On a Saturday? It’s a not

a school day, H. I think we are more than entitled to a decent Saturday
brunch. Right, Aves?”
“Yeah, I want something yummy. It’s Saturday!” Avery echoes Louis’

exact tone.
“I love the dog, he’s quite literally my favorite lad. But why must we
suffer on his birthday. He wouldn’t want that for us.” Louis looks
down at Benedict laying under the legs of Avery’s barstool. “You
wouldn’t want that, huh Benny Boy? Yeah, I know, B. Tell mean old
Harry you hate your name and poached eggs too.”
“First of all, Benedict is very fond of his name, we’ve discussed it.”
Harry asserts confidently. “Second, Benedict’s opinion on poached
eggs remains neutral at this time.”
Louis purses his lips at Harry flatly. “And you know this how?”
“Because we’ve discussed it, as I’ve previously stated. We’re very close,
he and I.” Harry answers diplomatically. “Anyway, we are having Eggs
Benny and that’s final.”
“Bleh.” Louis groans in disgust, lowering his head down to the

countertop. “And who even calls it Eggs Benny?”
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“Me! I do!” Harry defends. “And I’m sure others do too. It’s cute.”
“No. Just no.”
“You both just wait, it’s going to be great, ok? Trust me.” With that,
Harry begins busying himself around the kitchen, tying his favorite
apron around his waist and getting right to work grabbing the
necessary ingredients from the fridge.
Louis leans closer to Avery, whispering privately to her. “Don’t worry

Aves, I won’t let you starve. We can sneak out when he’s not looking
and get a real breakfast somewhere. We can take Benny too, he’ll love
the drive.”
Avery grins mischievously. “Can we get donuts?”
“Oh Aves, my little love, you read my mind.” Louis smiles proudly.
“You and me, we’re always on the same page. Incredible.”
Avery mirrors his smile. “We are, aren’t we?”
Louis glances at Harry, finding him still nose deep in the fridge.
“Alright, I’ll create a diversion and you take my keys and Benny and
sneak out to my car. I’ll meet you there when the coast is clear.”
“Got it.” Avery nods once.
“Go team.” Louis whispers, high fiving her hand under the counter.
Avery slips off of her stool and starts nonchalantly heading out of the
kitchen, but the movement seems to trigger Harry into looking over at
them.
“Munchie, where are you g—”
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“So H, do you even know how to make Eggs Benedict?” Louis
interrupts him, giving Avery the chance to dart out of the kitchen.
Harry turns his attention towards Louis. “Um well actually, I saw it on
a cooking show once and honestly anything is possible with the
internet.”
“Right, right.” Louis nods, coming up to the kitchen island and

blocking Harry’s view of the stairs, Avery is carefully sneaking up.
“And I assume that makes you a master at it then?”
“I don’t think I’d describe myself as a master, babe. But I can follow a
recipe. Plus, I could always call Frankie or something if I really screw
up.”
Harry is turning back towards the direction where Avery is still in view,
so Louis grabs ahold of his jaw and kisses him deeply, implementing
the only distraction he can think of really.
It clearly takes Harry by surprise, but he doesn’t fight Louis, kissing

him back. Although Louis does peek his eyes open to keep watch for
Avery’s sake. Harry pulls back, but Louis doesn’t let him, keeping the
diversion alive.
“God, I just can’t get enough of you sometimes.” Louis tugs Harry in
for a tight hug, holding his head close so he can’t move freely. And
behind Harry’s back, Louis waves directions at Avery, signaling for her
to use the front door, but she seems to be looking for Benny’s leash.
“You are just soo sexy in the kitchen and your little apron is adorable.”
“Aww, well thanks, Lou.” Harry beams at him, before starting towards
the far cabinet.
Louis jumps back in front of him, probably too eagerly. “Um…can I

help you, would that be alright? Can I do that for you?”
Harry pauses. “You actually want to help me?”

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“Yeah, yeah, yeah of course, love. Always. Yeah. Yes.”
Harry frowns in suspicion and Louis thinks he may be overdoing it.

But it’s hard for him to swindle Harry, well it’s hard for Louis to lie to
Harry in general, so this is truly the impossible task.
“Alright. Well take these eggs and—”
Louis purposely lets them slip from his hand, splattering two eggs right
on the hardwood floor. It does exactly what he intended and
instantaneously directs Harry’s attention to the floor so that Avery can
scurry out of the front door with Benny undetected.
“Oh well fuck me, am I right?” Louis laughs it off lightly. “So clumsy.
Wow. Sorry about that, love.”
Harry reaches for a few paper towels, eyeing Louis curiously. “Louis,
you’re never clumsy, you have ridiculously steady hands. I mean,
you’re a surgeon for fucks sake...”
“Uh huh yeah…well, we all have off days, I suppose...” Louis shrugs,
averting his eyes because Harry is sure to see that he’s lying through
his teeth. “Uh so maybe I’m not the best help to you today cuz…I’m
so…clumsy and uh bad, you know? At this.”
“What?” Harry looks so lost and confused by everything Louis is

saying.
“I’m just gonna go…” Louis points off awkwardly behind him to no
particular place, randomly moving his body in a weird way. “You
know…make a few calls and… such… while the day is… young…
yes… right…”
“Are you ok?”
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“Yep, yes. Yep. Mhmm. Yes… sir...” Louis nods, smiling nearly
manically. “You just keep doing you. Keep making those Eggs Benny
that we all really want. So. Much.”
Harry is still frowning, leaning his hip against the countertop. “Ok…”
“Ok. Cool. Cool. Yeah.” Louis continues nodding his head, he can’t
stop, and he knows how hysterical he must look. He backs out of the
kitchen slowly with Harry still looking at him like he suddenly sprouted
two heads.
Once out of view, Louis practically sprints out to the car. Avery is
already sitting in the front seat waiting for him when he jumps in. He
doesn’t waste a second before pushing the start button, ready to throw
the gear in drive. “We’ve gotta go now, Aves. He’s definitely on to me.
I just can’t lie to your dad, I was acting so weird and—”
“Louis!”
“AH!” Louis squeals, jumping in his seat, completely startled by Harry

appearing out of literally nowhere. “Where did he come from? Did you
see him sneak up, Aves?”
“Nope.” Avery starts giggling at him, clearly amused by his reaction.

“Maybe he followed you?”
Louis chances a contrite glance at Harry outside of his car, guiltily

rolling the driver side window down. “Yes, darling?”
“You’re trying to escape! I knew it! Shame on you both!” Harry

admonishes, peeking into the cabin of Louis’ Range Rover, gasping in
utter dismay. “Oh my god, is that Benedict? Oh, I can’t believe you!”
“Babe, Avery and I just want some donuts, ok?” Louis tries to explain.
“Is that so wrong?”
“Yes, it is so wrong.” Harry defends, still frowning. “Because it’s Eggs

Benedict day.”
968
“Please Daddy pleaaaase.” Avery starts pouting in that adorably
manipulative way that she does so well and Louis has never been more
proud. “I really, really, reaaally want a donut.”
“She really, really, reaaally wants a donut.” Louis echoes, pouting his
lips as well. “Have a heart, Harry.”
“And Benny loves donuts! It’ll be like a little birthday cake for him!”
Avery adds next. “He’ll be so happy!”
“It’s true, yeah.” Louis nods along with wide eyes. “You can’t put a
candle on Eggs Benedict, but you can put one on a donut. Just saying.”
“And we promise that will try your Eggs Benedict if you let us have
donuts with it.” Avery pledges genuinely.
“Wait, we will? Louis twists all the way around in his seat to ask her.
“Yes, we will, Louis.” Avery nods towards him. “It’s only fair.”
“Fine, we will.” Louis agrees with a sigh, addressing Harry again.
They’ve successfully chipped away at Harry’s stern disapproving face

as he lets out his own sigh. But his gaze is soft as he looks at them.
“What am I going to do with you two?”
“Letting us get our donuts would be a nice start, I’d say.” Louis grins
hopefully.
Harry deliberates, eyeing them quietly. “Pick them up and come right
back.”
“Yes, yes. We won’t even open the box till we get back home.”
“Good and bring me a raspberry filled one.”
969
“Yes, of course you got it. Thank you, love you.” Louis pokes his head
out of the car window to kiss Harry’s cheek. “We’ll be back before you
know it.”
Louis rolls the window back up and gets the car going before Harry
can change his mind or anything. At this point, Louis can’t let anything
stop him from getting his donuts. “Nice going, Aves. You really sold
him.”
“Well, he’s a big old softy, you know.” Avery smiles, waving at her dad
who is still standing along the driveway in his apron.
“Oh, I do know.” Louis grins fondly. “Gotta love him though.”
||☤||
On the night that would be their 81st Date, Louis ends up taking Harry
with him to Lad’s Night. They get to the bar a bit earlier than the other
boys, which gives them time to have a few drinks and a mini date of
their own to catch up on each other’s days. Zayn, Liam, and Niall all
arrive around the same time an hour later, and the five of them gather
in their typical booth near the back.
“Harry, welcome to your first official Lad’s Night.” Liam announces,

giving Harry a small round of applause that the rest of the table joins
in on. They all lift their glasses in a toast to commence the start of the
night.
“I’m happy to be here.” Harry bows his head a bit, smiling.
“It’s going to be an adjustment for me because we’ve spent so many

of these talking about you.” Zayn admits honestly. “You’re like, the
go-to topic of conversation.”
“I’m sure.” Harry laughs, nodding.
970
“No, that’s not true.” Louis defends.
“Oh please.” Niall says flatly. “We even spent the last one talking about
him because you wouldn’t shut up about how good he is in bed.”
Louis blushes a bit, hiding behind his nearly empty glass. “I mean that’s
not all I talked about…”
Harry grins, leaning against Louis. “That good, huh?”
Louis shoves Harry lightly in a playful way, rolling his eyes. He drops
his hand to Harry’s leg, running it up his thigh and Harry has his arm
cinched around Louis’ waist, nearly pulling him into his lap. They start
giggling together, completely infatuated, but to be fair they’ve had way
more to drink than anyone else at the table.
“Could you guys be any more gross?” Niall complains.
“Yes. Definitely.” Louis nods slowly, not taking his eyes off of Harry.
“Impossible.” Zayn disbelieves. “You’ve already reached peak gross

levels.”
Louis glances at Zayn, raising an eyebrow in challenge, before turning

his attention to Harry again. Oh, they can be so much grosser. “Hey
baby, can I have your gum?”
“Sure.” Harry smirks and Louis leans up and kisses him hard, making
an unnecessarily loud show out of it. And after a few seconds, Louis
pulls back, proudly displaying Harry’s gum between his own teeth.
“Now that’s just nasty.” Liam grimaces, features scrunched.
“Ok lads, if Louis and Harry are done exchanging saliva samples, I
have some news.” Niall announces, face already breaking into a smile.
971
“You’re finally going to revitalize your youth and bring back the
frosted tips I loved so much.” Zayn guesses first.
“You tried out the recipe I gave you?” Harry tries next.
“You’ve stopped abusing on-call rooms?” Louis hopes.
Liam deliberates the longest over his guess. “You’re finally going to
adopt a dog?”
“Definitely not, not yet but I will, fuck you, and…maybe?” Niall
answers, addressing each of them in order. “But that’s not it.”
“Damnit.” Zayn sighs heavily. “I miss you as a blonde.”
“Zayn, for the last time, no parent will take me seriously as their child’s
doctor with fucking platinum streaks in my hair.” Niall explains to him.
“I don’t know how I got into med school with that hair in the first
place.”
“Because it was a fucking look that’s why!” Zayn says adamantly.
“Mmm...” Louis shakes his head skeptically. “Was it though? Was it

really?”
“You know it was.” Zayn claims stubbornly. “I think I’m going to do

it myself. What the hell right?”
“It would make way more sense in your department, so please knock
yourself out.” Niall encourages wholeheartedly. “Anyway, can I
announce my news now?”
The four of them oblige, tuning their complete attention to Niall who
looks like he might burst at any minute if he doesn’t say what he needs
to say.
972
“I proposed to Charlie last night!” Niall reveals, smiling so big, it
practically takes up his whole face. “And she said yes! I’m engaged!”
“What?” Zayn gasps first, jaw falling open. “Oh my god, I never
thought this day would come.”
“I know!” Niall enthuses happily. “I can’t believe it either!”
“Niall, that’s wonderful!” Liam is sat right at his side, so he hugs Niall
close, fluffing his hair.
“Please tell me you didn’t propose in an on-call room.” Louis says

seriously. “I will scream.”
“No, Louis! I didn’t! Thought about it though...” Niall jokes with a

knowing smirk.
Louis rubs his temples. “Please don’t joke like that. My sanity is so
fragile.”
“How’d you ask her?” Harry wonders. “I want to hear the story.”
“Well I’ve been carrying around the ring for a little while now—”
“You have!” Louis interrupts Niall in disbelief. “Why didn’t you say
anything?”
“Because you work with her everyday and you could have let it slip or
given too many hints or something.” Niall explains, which is a pretty
valid explanation.
“Niall, I would never.” Louis defends, hand touched to his chest. “But
fine, I see your point. Please continue.”
“So Charlie really loves hot air balloons—it’s a long story, but it has to
do with her favorite memory as a kid. Anyway, I surprised her by
973
renting a hot air balloon—they are fucking terrifying by the way, the
whole time we were up there I felt so nauseous and not just because I
was nervous about proposing.” Niall describes, a slight look of fear in
his eyes. “But I got over it for her and we watched the sunset together
and she loved it so much, she was so happy and that’s really all I
wanted. And then she cried when I asked her to marry me, it was
perfect.”
“Aww, congratulations, mate.” Harry beams happily. “Charlie is so

lovely, and you make such a cute couple.”
“I’m really so happy for you, Ni.” Louis gushes warmly, they really are
perfect for each other. “Another round on me to celebrate.”
They order another round of fresh drinks and cheerfully toast to

Niall’s engagement, all of them couldn’t be more excited for him.
“You guys are next.” Louis points his finger between Liam and Zayn
as he knocks back his seventh shot of tequila of the night. They glance
at each other, sharing a strange private look that reeks of secretive
suspicion. “Wait—what was that?”
“What?” Liam pales, already looking guilty of something as his gaze

snaps back to Louis.
“That look.” Harry emphasizes, nodding his glass towards them.
“You saw it too, right H?”
“We all saw it.” Niall agrees, frowning. “What gives, boys?”
“Oh, it’s um...uh…” Liam stalls, opening and closing his mouth, but
not saying much else.
“Don’t Liam.” Zayn warns quietly, glaring at him seriously.
974
Liam sighs, clearly wanting to say whatever it is. “Babe, I want to tell
someone.”
“Tell someone what?” Louis leans in closer, elbows resting on the

table.
Liam and Zayn look back and forth at each other, seeming to have a
silent conversation with their eyes alone, which Louis would say is
creepy, but as he does it with Harry all the time, he really can’t say shit
about it.
“We’re married.” Liam bursts suddenly like he’s been dying to say it
his whole life. “Like married married. Not work married, honest to god
married. I’m legally married to Zayn.”
“What. The. Fuck.” Louis gasps loudly in shocked dismay. “Zayn, is

this true?”
Zayn exhales, casting his head back. “You can’t keep a secret can you,
Li?”
“When the hell did you get married?” Niall asks, eyes wide.
“Like two weeks ago.” Zayn admits.
“Well, I’d say congratulations are in order yet again.” Harry smiles
happily. “We should order another rou—”
“You would rob me of my Best Man speech...” Louis interjects, and he

hasn’t altered his disapproving face slightly, still in shock.
“No Lou, it wasn’t like that—”
“That’s hurtful, Z. I’d expect it from Liam, but not you.”
975
“Um what.” Liam furrows his brow in offense. “What do you mean,
you’d expect it from me? It was his idea!”
“Zayn, are you fucking kidding me right now?!” Louis gasps again in
pure disappointment.
“It wasn’t planned! I swear!” Zayn defends, trying to explain his

thought process. “We went up to a cabin in the mountains for our
anniversary…and it was just so romantic, and I don’t know…I looked
at him and I just thought…I wanna marry you right now.”
“So you eloped.” Louis pinches his brow, shaking his head. “And you
didn’t even tell me! Are we even friends!? I need another drink.” He
downs another one of his shots, wincing as it burns down his throat.
“You have to admit it’s kind of cute, baby. They’re in love.” Harry says
to Louis. “I’m really happy for you guys.”
“Shh Harry, no. No. No.” Louis shakes his head adamantly, sitting
back up. “Zayn knows how much I was looking forward to being his
Best Man. I talk about it all the damn time with him. Since the very
beginning! I’ve been forcing them together for years!”
“How about you give your speech at Niall’s wedding?” Liam suggests,
trying to be helpful.
“Yeah, that would be good.” Zayn agrees.
“It’s not the same and you know it.” Louis pouts. “I have a completely
different speech for Niall and Charlie. It’s not interchangeable.”
“You could say it now.”
“For whom?” Louis dramatically holds up his hands in question. “I

have no audience, no wedding party, no newlywed grooms and
therefore no reason to give my exclusive, heartfelt speech that I’ve
been practicing for years now. It was a tearjerker…”
976
“I want to hear it though.” Zayn begs, sounding sad.
“Then you shouldn’t have gotten married in the absence of my

presence.” Louis says bitterly. “Get married for real or die not hearing
my speech.”
“Louis, we are married for real.” Liam reminds.
“You didn’t have the witness that matters so…debatable.” Louis

counters, brow furrowed.
“Are you going to be bitter about this forever?”
“Oh, I don’t know Liam? Are you going to be secretly married to Zayn
forever?” Louis sasses back. “God, it’s like finding out there’s no Santa
as a kid. Or realizing that the tooth fairy is a sham. All my hopes and
dreams shattered just like that.”
“Fuck, you’re dramatic.” Zayn sighs heavily.
“I. Am. Heartbroken.” Louis leans over the table and says angrily
through his teeth.
“Or…you’re a bit drunk.” Harry consoles, hand on Louis’ back as he

rubs calming circles to his spine. “Here babe, have the rest of my
drink.”
Louis sits back against Harry and pouts, nursing the rest of Harry’s
margarita.
“If it makes you feel better, our own mothers don’t even know yet.”
Liam reveals. “We literally haven’t told anyone. You guys are the first
to know.”
“It was kind of like our little secret and that made it more special for
us.” Zayn explains. “Are you ever going to forgive us, Lou?”
977
“No.” Louis snaps, deep, petulant frown still wrinkling his features.
“How about tomorrow when you’re sober?” Liam asks.
“I don’t know…” Louis answers slowly. “But right now, I don’t like
either of you very much.”
“But you still love us.”
Louis pauses for a long time, still not giving either of them eye contact.
“…Maybe.”
“I think that’s as good as it’s gonna get.” Niall states. “He’s useless
when he’s drunk. You might as well be arguing with a child.”
“I’m not that drunk.” Louis disputes as he considers Liam and Zayn
for a moment, sitting up again. “…Are you happy?”
“So happy.” Zayn smiles impossible wide, glancing at Liam as he

intertwines their fingers. Liam gives him the same look of utter bliss
and watching them, as happy as they clearly are in married life, Louis
can’t stay mad at them, even in his drunken state.
“Fine then, I still love you and I’m happy for you.” Louis tells them
finally, although he still hasn’t really fixed his face.
“Aww thank you, Lou.” Liam beams, he hates when people are in any
way upset with him.
“But I’d also like you to consider getting a divorce, so you can get
remarried and I can be there.”
“Oh, Louis.” Zayn sighs though a fond smile.
||✚||
978
Harry was tempted to call and make sure that Louis wasn’t in surgery
before showing up to SSMC dressed in pristine navy blue scrubs. But
Louis clearly explained time and time again that if he found out that
Harry had cheated and asked about his schedule, he would completely
disqualify him from ever living out his booty call.
So Harry took a chance and trusted his gut and now he is leaning over
the nurses station, waiting to see if Louis will answer the page he just
had a nurse send to him. She actually believed him when he told her
that he worked here, which Harry got a real kick out of. But after ten
minutes of waiting, out strolls his beautiful Louis from the elevator
doors like an angel sent from above.
“Yes!” Harry fist pumps excitedly. “I knew you’d be free right now.
God, I know you so well.”
Louis doesn’t even seem to notice Harry’s gloating, otherwise he’d

probably have some kind of smartass remark. Instead all he seems to
be able to do is stare lustfully at Harry in his new outfit. “Fuck, you
look good in scrubs.”
“You think so, babe?” Harry models them a bit, hand on his hip,
purposely sticking his bum out further than necessary.
“Yes, let’s go.” Louis doesn’t waste any more time, tugging his hand
urgently, now on a mission.
“Aren’t you busy doing…something? Anything?” Harry wonders,

sliding in another gloating remark.
“No, I’d much rather be busy doing you.” Louis throws back.
Harry smirks happily. “See, aren’t you glad on-call rooms exist now?
You’re welcome. Let this be a lesson learned.”
“It’s not like you invented them, Harry.”
979
“No, but it was through my genius that we have the momentous
opportunity to consummate our relationship in an on-call room. So
again, I say, you’re welcome.” Harry dramatically performs an
ostentatious bow, complete with a curtsy.
“You are so ridiculous, it’s confusing how turned on I am right now.”

Louis grins at him.
“It’s the navy scrubs, I told you. They’re magical.” Harry whispers like
it’s some kind of urban legend.
Louis links their fingers together. “Come on, we’ve got to go before
Niall sees you.”
“Why would that matter?”
“Let’s just say I’ve made my on-call room opinions very clear, and I’m
jeopardizing my reputation by having you here right now.”
“Aww, risking it all for me.” Harry smiles, tilting his head.
“Always. Especially when you’re dressed like that.”
They make it down the hallway, Louis practically dragging Harry in the
direction of the nearest on-call room. But then he stops suddenly as a
group of newbie doctors turn the corner.
“Oh shit—there’s a handful of new interns starting today.” Louis

realizes, sighing to himself. “They usually start in the late summer, but
we are getting a transfer group from another hospital—fuck, I
completely forgot. I just got an email about it too. Quick, turn around
and let’s go the other way before they try to suck up to me.”
Harry gives him a confused look. “What’s so bad about that?”
980
“I don’t have time for it right now, that’s what’s so bad!” Louis
explains, starting to pull Harry back down the hallway they just came
from. “I want to spend my free time locked in a room with you, not
holding some nervous intern’s hand on their first day here.”
“Dr. Tomlinson!”
“Ignore them, just keep walking.” Louis says, speed walking almost to
the point of a jog as Harry follows behind him.
“Louis, that seems so mean.” Harry slows down, looking over his
shoulder at the interns approaching them. “What if they need your
help?”
“They don’t, I promise you, they don’t. I’ve been them, Harry. They
only want to impress me, so I’ll pick them for their first surgeries. If
they need help, they have a chief resident for that.”
“I don’t know, Lou? Maybe you should just say hi to them?” Harry
stops walking completely. “It would be nice.”
“Harry no! Harry!” Louis hisses, still attempting to goad Harry into
following him. But it’s too late because the eager gang of interns have
already caught up with them.
“You’re Dr. Tomlinson, right?”
And the way that Louis can somehow maneuver his face from utterly
pissed to mildly annoyed to professionally pleasant in the span of a
single second completely astounds Harry. “Yes. Hello.”
“Dr. Tomlinson, it’s such a huge honor.” One of them say, nearly
tripping over himself to shake Louis’ hand.
“I think you’re so brilliant—I practically memorized the last study you

published.” The next one blurts, sounding nervous and talking
abnormally fast. “The way you used the virulence susceptibility of the
981
tumor against itself to treat that inoperable astrocytoma was incredible.
How did you derive the steps of that procedure?”
“Thank you.” Louis nods with a pleasant smile. “I’m in charge of your
skills lab tomorrow, so we can discuss it at length then.”
“Are you another one of our attendings?” One of the interns addresses
Harry curiously, noting his navy blue attending scrubs. “I didn’t see
your picture on the faculty staff listing.”
“Oh, he’s just a visitor um…he doesn’t work here—he’s just um

consulting…for uh...me…” Louis lies terribly, but thankfully the
interns seem none the wiser.
“I’m Dr. Styles.” Harry gives them a charming dimpled smile as Louis
gives him a look that perfectly conveys the words, “what the fuck?”
“Are you a neurosurgeon like Dr. Tomlinson or—”
“You know what?” Louis interrupts, already taking a few steps

backwards. “Dr. Styles and I have some really urgent matters to attend
to, so if you could just excuse us, thanks.”
“Oh, ok! Bye Dr. Tomlinson! Bye Dr. Styles!”
“I fucking told you so.” Louis grumbles as they turn the hall corner.
“The years may pass but interns are always the same: suck ups.”
“Well I liked them.” Harry decides. “They seem nice. And they adore
you. I can’t believe they actually believed me. You know, that’s the
second time today I’ve gotten someone to believe I’m a doctor.”
Louis narrows his eyes. “You know impersonating a medical doctor is

a crime?”
“Oh, I’m such a bad, bad boy. Are you going to tell on me?”
982
Louis laughs, grinning widely. “As long as you don’t go around
practicing on people.”
Harry leans in, dipping down to whisper lowly in Louis’ ear. “Can I
practice on you?”
“Thirty-three years old and you really wanna play doctor. Amazing.”
“Let me have this.” Harry pleads through his teeth.
“So, you want me to be that slutty patient lusting after my hot doctor?”
“Yes.” Harry nods.
“I think I can manage that.” Louis grins tugging Harry into the room.
Louis locks the door behind them, shedding off his lab coat before
pressing Harry’s back right up against the wood of the door.
“Oh god, Dr. Styles you’re so hot…” Louis leans up and groans right
to Harry’s ear, sounding needy and breathless as he licks over his lips
slowly. “What kind of doctor are you?”
“Hearts.” Harry decides after a beat, unable to decide or land on a

specialty. “…I’m a heart doctor…Yes…”
“Hearts as in…cardio thor—”
“Cardio thoracic, exactly—that’s exactly what I said.” Harry smiles,

nodding easily.
Louis starts snickering, dropping his head down.
“Louis, stop laughing, you’re ruining it.”
Louis smiles fondly. “You’re just so adorable. I love it.”

983
“I’m not adorable, I’m your hot doctor, remember?”
Louis laughs even more. He may have just realized that it’s far more
fun for him to make fun of everything than to take this even mildly
seriously. Harry sort of figured it would happen eventually, but not
that quickly. Doctors do make the worst patients after all.
“Lou!” Harry urges seriously. “Be my slutty patient! Please!”
“Well if I’m your patient, you have to tell me what to do, love.”
“Ok…” Harry nods, considering for a moment. “Lie down and take
off your shirt.”
Louis follows directions easily, lying back against the narrow bed,
shirtless on his side, staring intently at Harry. Harry sits on the bed
next to him, resting his palm down on Louis’ lower abs. Harry’s fingers
gradually move south from his naval along Louis’ happy trail, inching
towards his waistband.
“I don’t think this is covered by my insurance.” Louis comments with

a smirk.
Harry sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Why are you like this.”
“Ok, I’m sorry. It’s just so funny.” Louis giggles incessantly to himself.
“It’s not supposed to be funny.” Harry reminds, furrowing his brows

together.
“Ok, I’m sorry, baby. Seriously, seriously. Let me get back into it, I’ll
do better.” Louis promises sitting up to take Harry’s hand, before
seeming to realize something “Wait, wait, wait a fucking minute. Why
are you not a urologist or something? What kind of cardio doctor
needs to touch my junk? All these years of medical training and I had
no idea my heart was always in my dick. The more you know.”
984
Harry just looks at him flatly, unamused.
“Ok, I’m sorry, I won’t say anything else. If that’s the kind of medicine
you practice, then so be it.” Louis reframes himself, leaning in closer
to trailing a seductive finger along Harry’s inner thigh, starting from
his knee. “Ooh Dr. Styles, I just…I need you so bad...”
Harry eyes him, wondering if he’s actually going to be serious this time.
“What do you need?”
“I need help with my…” Louis pauses breathily, jaw falling slightly
slack. “Pacemaker.”
“Pacemaker!?” Harry bursts in disbelief. “What are you 65?”
“Fuck that, I’m 83 and I’m killing the game at the retirement home.
Are you an ageist doctor? I’m gonna leave a one-star Yelp review if I
can figure out how to log on to my computer.”
Harry frowns in complete offense. “You are literally ruining my

doctor role.”
Louis is cackling yet again, finding himself so amusing. “Well what else
am I supposed to say? It’s not my fault you chose cardio.”
“Louis, it is not that deep!” Harry tries, growing exasperated.
“But it is, H. Like it’s the details that make it work, you know?” Louis
explains, still chuckling. “It’s just not believable.”
“God. You’re the worst.” Harry sighs heavily, casting his head back.
“Why can’t you just shut up and tell me where it hurts.”
But that only has Louis busting up laughing again, falling over on the
bed. “Harry, you’re killing me.”
Harry mopes, watching Louis laugh. “I’m supposed to be saving you!”
985
“That corny porno line. Tell me where it hurts.” Louis cackles even
harder as he repeats it, practically wheezing as he clutches at his sides.
“I can’t breathe, it’s so fucking hilarious. How are you not laughing
right now?”
Harry swats Louis’ bare side, frowning deeply. “It’s not fucking
funny!”
“Ok, ok you know what, I’m just gonna play along, ok? For you. I’m
serious this time. I swear to god.” Louis tries again, still biting down
on his bottom lip to keep from laughing again, although is voice is
wavering on the verge of a laugh. “Ask me again.”
“No. I’m over it.” Harry huffs, arms crossed over his chest.
“Do it Harry, please. I want you to.” Louis smiles dumbly, trying to
school his face into something serious.
Harry sighs for the millionth time, regretting it before he even says it.
“…Tell me where it hurts.”
“Ooh, it hurts everywhere Dr. Styles, but you’re only qualified to fix
my heart.” Louis moans out.
“Stop it!” Harry pouts.
With that Louis takes hold of Harry’s hand and places it on his naked
chest, right over his heart. “Ooh—god.” Louis groans loudly, closing
his eyes and moaning as if just the magical touch of Harry’s hand to
his heart is so erotic and stimulating.
“You are so hateful.” Harry tries to yank his hand away, but Louis
holds it firmly to his bare chest.
Louis continues moaning, squirming around on the bed as though he’s

on the verge of orgasm. And the worst part is that all his moans sound
alarmingly genuine. “Right there—yes, yes, yes, yesss!” He chants
986
obscenely, banging his free hand against the wall for no good reason
at all.
“Fuck you Louis, I wanna go home.”
“Oh god, it’s so good!” Louis throws his head all the way back and
screams in the most ludicrous and offensive way possible. “Fuck,
you’re amazing!”
“I hate that it sounds like we’re having really hot sex in here, but it’s
really just you being fucking rude all by yourself.” Harry sighs,
watching his boyfriend flatly. “A waste, honestly.”
But then Louis takes Harry completely by surprise as he sits up

abruptly, sliding his body completely off of the bed to kneel between
Harry’s legs. He doesn’t waste another second as he unties Harry’s
scrub bottoms, yanking them off along with his boxers in one smooth
motion to expose Harry’s cock, which is surprisingly half-hard from
listening to Louis moan for the last five minutes.
And then he just goes for it, without a warning or a single word, taking
Harry’s length completely into his mouth, causing Harry to nearly lose
his mind right then and there. The surprise and shock of Louis’ tongue
moving in tandem with the hallowed suction of his warm cheeks has
Harry already gasping weakly. That mouth of his holds wonderous
talents Harry has never otherwise known.
“Fuck.” Harry hisses as Louis takes him all the way down his throat as
though it’s nothing at all. And when Louis slowly looks up at him,
darkened blue eyes curtained by long, heavy lashes, Harry just about
comes right there on the spot, having to brace himself with both hands
against the sheets. But Louis, being the tease that he is, suddenly stops,
pulling off of Harry completely.
Just as Harry is about to start begging for Louis’ touch again, Louis
pushes Harry back on the bed, seeming to be far from done with him.
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Louis bunches up Harry’s scrub top to his ribs, sucking a bruise to his
left hipbone as he slowly slides a lubed up finger inside Harry.
Harry lets out a deep moan right away, he hadn’t even noticed that
Louis had pulled out a packet of lube, far too distracted by everything
else he’s doing. Louis lips move tactfully from Harry’s hip to his groin,
sucking him off once again. God, it feels so incredible, Louis’ tongue
diligently at work as he adds another finger. Harry is panting, nearly
whining as he rocks his hips up against Louis’ mouth, feeling his body
start to quiver. With the addition of a third finger, Louis hits Harry’s
prostate and that’s just about all he can take anymore, eyes fluttering
closed as he gasps his release. Louis takes it all, swallowing everything
Harry gives him as he gently goads his fingers free of Harry’s hole.
“I promised I’d do that.” Louis smirks, licking his lips and looking
utterly proud of himself as he watches Harry attempt to catch his
breath on the bed. He leaves a few soft kisses to Harry’s thighs,
caressing his skin soothingly as Harry begins to come down from his
orgasm. “And you know, I hate breaking promises, love.”
Harry sits up and kisses him hard, both hands holding his face steady.
And Louis’ mouth is still salty, he can taste the lingering traces of
himself on his tongue. Harry wraps his legs around Louis’ waist, sitting
in his lap as he urgently licks into his mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Harry—”
“I know you hate on-call rooms—we agreed not to have sex here, but
I need you now…I can’t wait…” Harry whines desperately, mouthing
in sloppy, wet patterns along Louis’ neck and he smells so good, it’s
intoxicating—Harry just wants to touch him everywhere, fingertips
burning with desire. He drops a hand down to grope Louis’ ass, pulling
him even closer, practically grinding his nearly naked body against
Louis, begging and needy. “Please baby, please I want it...I want
you…fuck me, Louis…”
Louis nods frantically, claiming Harry’s lips again with his own and
showing just how much he wants Harry too, never strong enough to
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deny him. Louis slides his hands under Harry’s scrub top, yanking it
off his body with enough force to nearly rip it. While Harry gets his
hands on Louis’ bottoms, untying the drawstrings as fast as he can to
get his hands on Louis’ dick. He’s already ridiculously hard, but Harry
still strokes him several times, bringing out a rough groan from Louis.
“Turn over for me, love.” Louis requests, lips pressed to Harry’s
jawline.
Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, he untangles his legs from around
Louis, turning over to lay flat against the bed on his stomach. He
spreads his legs slightly, already fully stretched out from Louis’ fingers
earlier. The anticipation is already killing him, he feels so overwhelmed
with need and desperation and all he wants is Louis’ cock inside him
right the fuck now.
“You have such a pretty back, baby.” Louis hums appreciatively,

leaning over Harry from behind, dragging his tongue down the curve
of Harry’s spine from the top of his neck to the bottom of his ass and
just his touch already has Harry shivering with pleasure. Louis adds
more lube to Harry’s entrance, tenderly massaging the cheeks of his
ass. “Ready, love?”
“Please Lou…” Harry whimpers, pushing his ass back against Louis,
seeking contact.
Louis doesn’t keep him waiting any longer, pressing in right away and
it’s everything Harry is craving, so much so that he sighs out in ecstasy,
eyes helplessly falling closed. That feeling of having Louis completely
filling him up is honestly one of the best feelings in the world and
Harry just wants to bask in it. And when Louis starts to move, Harry
can’t stop his blissed moans from growing louder and louder with each
of Louis’ thrusts. But Harry knows that Louis loves when he gets loud,
always getting lost in the sounds he makes for him and only for him.
Harry starts rubbing himself against the sheets, looking for some kind
of friction against his almost painful erection. As attentive as he always
is, Louis notices right away, sliding a hand under Harry’s torso to lift
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him up and pull him down into his lap as they sit back as one. Harry’s
back is flush against Louis’ chest and Louis adjusts Harry around on
top of his lap until he can tell he’s hitting Harry’s sweet spot by the
throaty groan that rips out of him.
But once Louis has found it, he pounds up into Harry relentlessly and
Harry just about passes out. Louis doesn’t let Harry recover and he
reaches in front of them both to stroke Harry’s cock and Harry’s body
goes completely limp in Louis’ arms for a second, completely
overwhelmed by all the sensations.
Harry adjusts his legs to be able to lift himself up and down, riding
Louis. And he drops his head backward weakly to rest against Louis’
shoulder, eyes falling closed as he pants Louis’ name over and over
again.
Louis tracks kisses along his neckline, following his protruding vein
from his tilted jaw to his pronounced collarbones, one hand on his
abdomen, pressing him close, while the other continues to twist
around Harry’s length in even motions. Louis’ kisses turn into nips of
teeth, leaving a litter of markings on Harry’s smooth skin. Which
Harry loves, he loves walking around with the imprint of his love’s
mouth on skin, he loves how much it ties him back to Louis.
It’s not long before their bodies are each coated in a layer of sweat,
sticking closer together. Louis moves faster, and Harry meets him pace
for pace, riding Louis like he was born to do it.
“Come for me, love.” Louis murmurs to his ear and it shoots
shockwaves of electricity down Harry’s spine. Louis’ warm hand is
stroking him even faster than before, mouthing at his shoulders now.
“God, Harry…you’re so gorgeous. You’re perfect…you’re
everything.”
“Louis.” Harry moans his name in a gust of weakened breath. Fuck, it

feels unbelievable, Louis is unbelievable. Every single time with him is
just…unbelievable.
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“Yes, baby…you’re so close, I know you are.” Louis encourages in a
low voice. “Come.”
And he does, Harry comes with Louis’ name praised from his lips,
shooting out hot streaks in Louis’ hand. Louis has such undeniable
control over his body, whatever he says is Harry’s command. And
they’re so in sync with each other that Louis orgasms right along with
him, and the wrecked sound he makes completely tears Harry apart.
They collapse backwards, breathless and boneless on the bed, limbs

twisted up together, still connected.
“How’s that for on-call room sex, Dr. Styles?” Louis grins, arms still
draped around Harry’s waist.
Harry laughs weakly, tracing his index finger along the side of Louis’
ribs. “Five-star Yelp review.”
||☤||
Louis knocks his knuckles against the open door of The Chief’s office,
poking his head through the doorframe to find Steve typing something
on his computer. “Is this a bad time?”
Steve adjusts his gaze towards the doorway and smiles welcomingly.
“Louis, come in. What can I do for you?”
“Hey, I just came by to drop my reports off.” Louis holds the thick
file out to him.
“Oh great, thank you.” Steve places the file in an empty file basket.
“You are the first department to be done so far this quarter. Nice
work.”
“Is that right?” Louis asks, he has been pretty balanced and organized
this quarter.
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“Mhmm. Not that your department is ever really late with these things.
That’s usually Plastics.” Steve sighs a bit. “Highest revenue overall, but
it’s like pulling teeth to get that department to write a damn report.”
“That’s not at all surprising.” Louis laughs.
“No, sadly it’s not.” Steve agrees with a grin. “But thank you for
completing yours.”
“Of course.” Louis nods easily, already heading towards the door. He
would stay and chat with Steve but he’s short on time tonight. “Alright,
well I’ve gotta run.”
“Last minute surgery?”
“Dinner date.” Louis replies, excited. “And I’m cooking, so I have to

leave early so that I have time to fuck up a few times before finally
perfecting my dish.”
“What are you making?”
“Um…don’t quite know yet, actually.” Louis laughs at himself. “I’m

hoping it will come to me on my way to the store.”
Steve chuckles, considering Louis for a moment. “You know it’s

actually really nice that I don’t have to physically drag you out of here
anymore.”
“You’ve never had to actually drag me out.” Louis scoffs a bit, rolling
his eyes.
Steve gives him a flat, knowing look that speaks a thousand words.
Louis shrugs slightly. “Maybe once or twice…”
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“You frequently had 100-hour workweeks, Louis. It wasn’t just
concerning, it was borderline illegal.”
“Lives were saved, Steve.” Louis sasses back, mildly defensive. “I think
there are worse things I could have done with my time.”
“Yeah, yeah, ok.” Steve nods slightly. “What I’m trying to say is that
it’s good to see this side of you.”
Louis breaks into a wide smile that he just can’t hide or hold back. “I’m
really happy, Steve.”
And it’s true, the past few months have been some of the best in his
life. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever been happier.
“I know.” Steve smiles back genuinely, the look in his eyes so proud.
Louis has always looked up to Steve, admiring him since he started
here as an intern. Steve has really seen some of his lowest points and
knowing that he now sees a change in Louis, a positive change, a
change he’s proud of, means a good deal to Louis. “And no one
deserves it more than you.”
“Thanks, Chief.” Louis bows his head, touched and heart-warmed.
“Be sure to tell the family I said hello.”
“Will do.”
||☤||
“What are you working on, little love?” Louis comes to sit down next
to Avery at the dining room table. She’s practically covered every clear
inch of space with craft supplies from construction paper to glitter to
stickers to markers and crayons.
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“My project for family day at school.” Avery reveals, looking very
focused on placing a silver star sticker exactly right on her mural.
“Ooh, sounds pretty cool.” Louis nods, resting his elbow on the table
and tucking his chin under his palm. “You wanna tell me more about
it? Or do you need any help? Or am I just bothering you?”
Avery lifts her gaze up to him and laughs, shaking her head. “You’re
never bothering me, Louis. I don’t need any help, but you could sit
with me and keep my company and I’ll tell you about it.”
“I’d love to, Aves. Tell me everything there is to know.”
“Ok. Well at school we had to make a mural that represents our

family.” Avery starts, working as she talks. “So I made mine into stars,
like a constellation. At first, I was kinda nervous
because…well…because I never really knew much about my family.
But now I know.”
“You do?” Louis asks, watching her closely.
Avery nods proudly, she’s playing absently with the gold necklace her
mother left for her. She never ever takes it off, just like she never takes
off the charm bracelet Louis got her for her birthday.
“So the big gold glittery one is me. And this big green one is for
Daddy.” Avery carefully touches each one along the poster. “And the
big blue one is for you, Louis.”
Louis heart flutters as it always does when Avery in any way refers to
him as her main family. He smiles widely as he looks at it, his blue star
sat right next to her gold one.
“And then these colorful ones out here are for Uncle Niall and Uncle
Liam and Uncle Zayn and Aunt Frankie.” Avery explains, pointing to
the rainbow of smaller stars under the three main ones. “And this is
Baby LouLou right below me because he’s my godbrother. But he
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can’t be a big gold star, because I’m the big gold star, but I let him be
gold still, just small.”
“Well that was lovely of you.” Louis nods, still studying the gorgeous
mural. “What about all of these silver ones at the top?”
“Those are all my angels.” Avery smiles softly, running her fingers
along the sliver stars “There’s my mom and your mom and Daddy’s
mom—I like to think that they’re all friends…and then all your sisters
too and baby Lou’s dad. They’re all up there, but they’re still a part of
me. They’re all my family.”
Louis just looks at her, without words. She is such a lovely, beautiful
and smart girl. Louis remembers Harry telling him about how Avery
hated family days before and how it would always make her so sad,
sometimes she got so upset that Harry had to come pick her up from
school and take her home. But now she’s confident in who her family
is and she’s even able to accept and embrace the parts that she didn’t
get to know. There will never be a day when Louis is not in awe of her.
Louis reaches over to rub her back, kissing her temple. “Aves, that’s
really beautiful, sweetheart.”
“You like it?” Avery turns to him.
“I adore it. Really, it’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you, Aves.” Louis
has his palm cupped to her soft cheeks, looking into her warm honey
eyes. “And your family is proud of you too.”
||☤||
Today is Louis’ birthday, commonly referred to by most as Christmas

Eve. But despite the holiday and his birthday, Louis still had to go into
work today, though not by choice this year. One of his patients went
into critical condition early this morning, requiring an emergency
craniotomy and then there were two neuro traumas in The Pit that he
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stayed to help out with. It was a lot of in and out of the O.R. but
thankfully everything went smoothly, and no one died on his watch.
And even though he had to work, all day he’s been reminded of how
good of a year he’s had overall, how much has changed since his last
birthday. On his last birthday, similar to the ones before it, Louis had
hopelessly conceded to the prospect of spending his entire life alone,
dedicated solely to his career and nothing else.
But now, Louis is so far removed from that sad version of himself.
Life feels so full to him, so rich and wonderfully bright. All those cliché
things and sentimental sayings about the beauties of life that Louis
once resentfully laughed at, perfectly apply to his current life and he
almost doesn’t recognize it. But in a good way. In a phenomenal way.
If someone had told him on his last birthday that his life would look
like this in a year’s time, Louis probably would have laughed them all
the way home or told them to kindly fuck off. And it continuously
blows his mind just how many beautiful things he has to be thankful
for this holiday season.
When Louis finally gets home from the hospital, Harry meets him right
at the front door, as if he’s been waiting for him all day.
“Hi baby. Happy birthday!” Harry smiles cheerfully, wrapping both his
arms around Louis’ waist as he greets his boyfriend with a slow, drawn-
out kiss. “I really hate that I’m just now getting to say that to you in
person and it’s 5 p.m.”
After getting paged, Louis had left the house at a little after three A.M.
this morning, only having time to kiss a very sleepy version of his
boyfriend goodbye. Although Harry sent tons of messages all day long
that Louis would read in between all the chaos. And he even sent a
huge bouquet of beautiful flowers that made everyone who saw them
jealous.
Louis leans in to kiss Harry again, not nearly having enough of that.
“It’s alright, I’m just happy to see you.”
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“Mmm.” Harry hums against his lips happily, pulling Louis closer with
his arms curled around his lower back.
“Thank you for my flowers, they’re so lovely.” Louis tucks a lock of

Harry’s hair behind his ear. “Everyone was trying to steal them.”
“I was worried you wouldn’t actually get them, because you had back
to back surgeries all day. But I’m glad you liked them.”
“I loved them.” Louis presses his lips to Harry’s again and honestly if
all he did for the rest of his birthday was make out with Harry, he’d be
more than happy. “It smells really good in here, by the way.”
“Oh, Avery and I spent the entire day baking and cooking for tonight
and tomorrow.” Harry explains easily.
“Ooh? Tell me more. I’m starving.” Louis starts walking towards the
kitchen, leaving the front foyer of the house.
Harry grabs his hand and tugs him back towards the door. “Later, let’s
go on a walk.”
“A walk? Right now?” Louis frowns but still follows after Harry.
“Yeah, why not?”
“Because I’m starving and it’s cold outside.”
Harry hands Louis a heavy coat from the rack. “Here’s a coat and I
promise we can eat when we come back.”
“But…what about Avery?” Louis asks next. “Where is she?”
“She’s taking a nap, all that baking completely tired her out.” Harry
answers. “And I promised that we wouldn’t eat anything without her.”
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“Alright, I guess.” Louis shrugs the coat on, sliding it over the thin
jacket he’s already wearing. “Let’s go on a walk.”
Harry smiles, linking his hands with Louis' as he leads them outside to
the winter air. And they walk for all of five minutes before Louis can’t
help but start complaining about the blistering weather. Well, it’s
not actually blistering, it’s Seattle after all. But to Louis, when it’s
winter, it might as well be Siberia.
“Harry, it’s too cold to be up here, I’m fucking freezing.” Louis curls
himself closer to Harry, both arms tucked around his waist under the
layered warmth of his coat. His own layers just aren’t doing as good of
a job warming him up as his boyfriend does. “If I can see my own
breath, it’s too cold to be outside. When I agreed to go on a walk with
you, I didn’t know you were going to drag me all the way up here.”
“I just want to see how our house is coming along, humor me.” Harry
keeps his arms wrapped securely around Louis to keep him warm.
“The contractor said they just laid the foundation. You want to look
at a giant slab of concrete?”
“Humor me, please.” Harry repeats with a slight pout, tugging Louis
along with him.
“All I do is humor you and look what it’s gotten me.” Louis lifts one
of his hands to find his fingers looking paler than ever, nearly blue-
tinged. “Frozen fingers and frozen lips to match.”
Harry brings Louis’ chilled fingers to his lips. “Lucky for you, my lips
still work.”
Louis grins slowly. “You’re lucky I like you, Styles.”
“The luckiest.”
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“I just don’t understand why—” Louis’ words get caught right in his
throat as the usually dark path they are walking on illuminates with
hundreds of twinkling lights hung from the trees like a canopy of
twinkling stars above them. Candle lanterns light up a narrow path
through the rest of the forest, curving up the winding road to the open
meadow.
“Happy birthday, Lou.” Harry hugs him from the side, pressing a long,
gentle kiss to his temple. It definitely explains why he wasn’t too
bothered by Louis missing the majority of Christmas Eve, Harry had
work of his own to do.
“H…” Louis gasps without words. He is truly floored, captivated by

how stunning and picturesque it all looks. “It’s beautiful…”
“Come on, I want to show you something else.” Harry slips his hand
into Louis' and takes his time leading Louis along the candlelit path
until they come to the edge of their meadow. But instead of simply
seeing that huge slab of concrete, Louis sees the future outline of their
house rimmed by warm candlelight.
Louis inhales audibly at the sight of it, suddenly breathless and even
more mesmerized. His eyes start to water automatically as he glances
back to his boyfriend, grasping his fingers tightly. “Harry…”
Louis can’t even begin to fathom how Harry did all of this today, how
long it must have taken him. But it’s so lovely and it’s so thoughtful
and definitely the sweetest birthday gesture Louis has ever
experienced.
Harry guides him through the rolling grass and onto the smooth
foundation that will one day bear the weight of their future home
together. They come to stand in the very heart of their home,
surrounded by white flickering candles contained by glass jars. Harry
turns around to face Louis fully, giving him the softest dimpled smile,
the gilded flecks of his gentle green eyes glimmer in the golden
candlelight.
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“So it’s our very first Christmas together and it’s also your birthday
and I didn’t know what I wanted to get you for either but…I knew I
wanted it to be special. And I wanted it to last forever…” Harry starts,
keeping their fingers twisted up together as he talks.
If Louis thought he was holding his breath before, it's nothing

compared to now, his heart is racing to an unsustainable beat and he
can only focus on the fact that the man standing before him is nothing
but beautiful. God, he’s glowing, radiant and breathtaking and Louis is
left a besotted, enamored mess.
“I kept thinking about where I wanted to take you, I even considered

our bench at the hospital where we first met but…I don’t know…like
you always say, there’s something about being here. This is the only
place in the world that I would ever dream of saying this to you, the
only place that really makes sense. I think the story of us goes on so
many winding paths, but really it all started and meets back up right
here.” Harry awes quietly as he looks around once more, something so
reminiscently calm falling over his features. “I cried with you here. I
grieved with you here. I shared secrets with you here. I danced with
you here. I laughed with you here. I’ve kissed you here. I fell in love
with you here…I even made love to you right here.” He whispers
affectionately, lips ghosting over Louis’, causing his breath to hitch in
his throat. “This is our sanctuary, our secret. And now we’re building
a home here.”
Louis presses their foreheads together, a hand coming up to rest on

Harry’s neck. He can feel Harry’s pulse racing under his palm and
Louis feels like he’s holding his breath waiting to hear what’s about to
come next out of Harry’s mouth.
“Louis, you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.” Harry
professes in passion, saltwater already starting to pool under his eyes.
“I met you before I knew how to love you, before I even knew what
it meant to love you. But…you showed me what real love looks like
and you gave me the strength to embrace the darkest parts of myself.
The way that you love me is raw and sacrificing and gentle and k-kind
and—” He exhales as the tears spill over, shaking his head almost as
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though he’s at a loss for words. “No one has e-ever loved me or cared
about me like you do...”
Everything inside of Louis is at a standstill, transfixed and spellbound.

Harry speaks directly to the silence of his stuttered heart, calling out to
every emotion Louis has ever felt and individually magnifying each one
by an illimitable factor.
“A-And with all that you love me, I love you that much more. I swear
I do, I love you more and more every minute, Louis…and I hope you
feel that. God, I hope you that feel as loved as you make me feel every
time you look at me. You give me new meaning every day…we’ve both
been through so much, together and apart, and nothing will ever erase
that but…the way I feel about you makes life worth living. You make
me so happy, baby.” He breathes heavily, smiling through his tears.
“Whenever we’re together, I can’t stop smiling and no one makes me
laugh like you do and for the longest time I never thought my life could
ever be like that, I stopped believing it was possible b-but…that’s how
the rest of our life is going to be…you and me laughing and loving
each other. I can’t wait to spend my w-whole life dedicated to loving
you like you should be loved…” He professes, lips starting to quiver
as he grows more teary eyed and breathless. “I need you in my life
more than ever, more than I realized, more than I knew or could ever
begin to understand. I…I need you, baby.”
Louis can’t take another second of not holding Harry, pulling him
completely into his arms, hugging his body so tightly to his own, never
wanting to let go again. “I n-need you too. I need you so much...” They
stand like that, crying in each other’s arms for several quiet moments,
but eventually Harry pulls back, swiping under his eyes to recompose
himself.
“I want to ask you something…but I need a little help to do it.” Harry’s

voice has gotten far louder than the gentle whisper it just was, causing
Louis to pull his eyebrows together in slight confusion. Until out walks
a little flower crown adorned princess, shuffling through the grassy
field with Benedict in tow. She’s absolutely beautiful in a deep
burgundy velvet dress, like a Christmas angel, the warm glim of the
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candles radiating her face and highlighting the hair of her wavy little
bob. She’s holding a sign of some sort, but Louis can’t see what it says
because of how she’s purposely holding it.
“Hi!” Avery greets warmly with a dimpled smile, running right over to
Louis. “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you, my little love.” Louis kneels down to embrace her in a

hug, leaving kisses on her cheeks. “What are you doing here, Aves?
Aren’t you supposed to be napping?”
“Well I just have something to ask you really quick.” Avery explains,
flipping around the sign in her grasp.
I ❤ you!!! I ❤ you with my whole ❤ !!!

Will you make me the happiest girl in the world and officially be my other Dad?
Louis gasps discernably, tears immediately springing to his eyes as he

reads the sign, written out in Avery’s own loopy handwriting. It’s
colored and decorated so adorably with hearts and smiley faces and
flowers all over it. If he wasn’t already kneeling, Louis would probably
fall right down to the ground on weak legs.
He looks back up at her and Avery lowers the homemade sign to the
grass, lifting her small hands to rest tenderly over his wet cheeks. She
searches his eyes before giving him the widest, most beautiful smile
Louis has ever seen in the world. “Papa.”
And when Louis hears the word, when he finally hears her call him
that, he almost doesn’t believe it, getting choked up right away. His
heart is so full of love— it’s all he ever wanted, it’s everything. Better
than any gift or any tangible thing the world has to offer. He has been
wanting to legally adopt Avery for the longest. In every way she feels
like his, she always has felt like his. Avery is his daughter.
“Aves—oh my god...” Louis sobs heavily, both arms circled around her
entire back, holding his child near and dear to his heart as he
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completely breaks down. He can’t even pull himself together long
enough to say anything else, but Avery clings to him just as tightly,
shedding tears of her own. It clearly means so much to her as well and
that realization only makes Louis cry harder.
Avery eventually lets him go and Louis finds the strength to somehow
stand back up to his feet, but he nearly falls right over when Harry gets
down on one knee in front of him, pulling a ring box out of his pocket.
Louis has both of his hands over his mouth, crying with overwhelmed
emotion. His heart is threatening to give out on him, passionately
overawed to the point of exhaustion. “H-Harry…”
Harry smiles up at him, a gorgeous fully dimpled smile. His own tears
are falling freely as he slowly opens up the black ring box. “So I’m not
quite sure if this is skipping a lot of steps or long overdue…but
um…tonight will technically be Date 128 for us and I’m not even close
to being done wooing you yet, but…um…” He sniffles, using one
hand to wipe a few of his own overflowing tears. “I just know that
I’m not losing you a-again…I can’t ever lose you again.”
“And neither can I.” Avery adds at her dad’s side, Benedict sitting at
her feet.
“You mean everything to us, Louis. You’re another father to Avery

and a foundation to m-me…the missing piece to our family. I’ve loved
every single moment of every single day we’ve had together. You give
my life so much meaning and I want to spend every moment I have
left forever bound to you.”
Louis has tracks of saltwater profusely flowing from his eyes, he can
hardly see anymore, he’s sobbing so hard, but in the best possible way.
“Um…it doesn’t have to be now or even a year from now really,

but...well I mean maybe sooner would be better or I don’t know…we
can keep on going on dates till you’re ready really, that works too. I’ll
wait forever…or I mean we could—”
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Harry is starting to ramble nervously, and Louis is absolutely breathless
and already a complete sodding mess. He touches an affectionate hand
to Harry’s cheek, stroking the side of his face softly. “H, just ask me.”
“Do it, Daddy.” Avery bites back her giddy smile, bouncing on her
toes next to Harry.
“O-Ok…” Harry whispers with a nod, smiling tenderly, warm and

dimpled. His wet eyes remain trained on the man before him, so much
love and adoration pouring from his gaze. “Louis Tomlinson, will you
not only make Avery the happiest girl in the world, but also make me
the luckiest man in the world and…marry me? Please?”
It’s such a Harry proposal, hopelessly endearing and sweet and Louis
is so very much in love with him. “Yes. Yes, yes—yes.” Louis nods
emotionally and Harry happily surges up from bended knee to meld
their lips together.
“Oh, thank god—the concrete was really killing my knees.” Harry lifts
Louis up and against him as they fervently kiss each other.
“I love you.” Louis laughs wetly to his lips and they’re a true mess of
tears and joy and love and everything in between. “Harry, I love you
so much.”
Harry sets Louis back down and slips the ring onto Louis’ left ring
finger which causes Avery to squeal happily, clapping her hands. Harry
bends down to pick her up next and she wraps one arm around each
of her dads.
Avery smiles brightly. “Now I’ll always be your Aves.”
“You always were, my love.” Louis whispers gently against her cheek.
He’s got one arm held tight around his fiancé’s waist and the other
holding his daughter’s hand in his own. And nothing, absolutely
nothing could be more perfect.
1004
“You always were.”
1005

All We Can Do Is Keep Breathing

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All We Can Do Is Keep Breathing

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ALL WE CAN DO IS

take my heart in your hands.

Morning rounds start in four minutes.

“Morning champ.” Niall nods as Louis scurries to catch up to him,

“Hey Horan. You sleep here too?”

“Ohh…” Louis sighs heavily, recounting the lackluster events of his

“Right, I suppose.” Niall nods agreeably, still sipping on his drink.

“Exactly.” Louis agrees wholeheartedly. “I ended up bailing and just

“That’s gotta be a new record, Tommo.”

“Such is life apparently. I like to live on the edge.” Louis smirks.

They approach the nurses’ station at the final moments of 5:59. As

“Morning scrubs. Let’s get to it.” Steve rolls by out of literally

“Good morning, Mr. Griffin.” Steve smiles cheerfully as he and his

“I know, I apologize, Mr. Griffin. But this is a teaching hospital and

“Nothing.” Niall stands up straighter, returning his face to neutral. “I’ll

“Tomlinson, I understand you are assigned to this case with Dr.

“Yes, sir.” Louis nods, moving forward.

“Alright then. Present the case, please.”

“Gemma Styles.” Louis starts from memory. “27-year-old female

“Very good.” Steve commends, nodding towards Louis. “And the

“The baby is in good health overall—all vital signs present normally

“I’m alright, I think. A little nauseated.” Gemma smiles widely with a

“Yeah, yeah whatever…but back to this date you had—”

“First of all, you are not tied down.”

“Yes, right—sorry! Coming!” Louis scrambles towards the door. “See,

“But…my story!” Gemma pouts.

A few moments pass but then Gemma is sighing once again,

“You’re…in a mood today...” Louis comments slowly, peeking up

“I am not.” Gemma answers defensively, frowning a bit as she picks

“I seem to have so many free passes to choose from when it comes to

And Louis is proven right in only a manner of minutes as Gemma

“You called him?” Louis raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah—I mean, you kept pressuring me to do it.”

“Ugh god—horribly.” Gemma groans, covering her face with her

Louis drops his head, nodding in understanding without her needing

“I know it’s a hard conversation to have, but it’s better if he hears it

“I know, I know…you’re right.” Gemma nods, still looking impossibly

“Well how about we practice, yeah?” Louis offers, wanting to be

Gemma laughs, shaking her head. “You’ve never met him.”

“Oh my god Louis, you absolute wanker!” Gemma cackles in surprise.

“Don’t get sappy on me now, Tomlinson.” Gemma shakes her head

“Gems!” Harry shouts excitedly, standing under the doorway to her

“Surprise…” Gemma smiles a little awkwardly, making mini jazz

Gemma bites her bottom lip, suddenly avoiding eye contact.

“Worse…” Harry worries, letting out a heavy stream of air as any

“Erm…we’ll have plenty of time to talk about that…” Gemma avoids

“Who gives a fuck about the wine in Bordeaux!” Harry bursts

“Ok…so…I have this thing called a mixed glioma…” Gemma starts,

Harry’s entire body stiffens instantly as he sucks in a sharp breath. Just

“Gemma…” Harry exhales gravely, already feeling a sting beneath his

“Ok, but hear me out—please, H.” Gemma begs softly, reaching to

“Don’t make jokes…please I can’t—” Harry’s voice breaks and he

“And I was so angry—god, you have no idea how angry—everything

“H, you have to promise you’ll take care of my baby for me if

“Say something, Harry please…”

“I’ve had so many surgeries Harry, so many surgeries and treatments

“Harry, please. I’m so sorry, I know you’re angry with me—”

“Angry? No, Gems…angry doesn’t even begin to cover it…” Harry

“You must be Harry.”

“Gemma’s brother, right? That’s you?”

“I’m Louis—or um I mean, Dr. Tomlinson. It still feels weird to

Harry blinks up at Louis in confusion, meeting the brightest, clearest