Life Inc.

“Fifth attempt failed, alert Operative team 02. Immediate deployment to hot spot.”

“Operative team 02 on the move. Contact in 3 hours.”

***

“Hey!” Harry greeted when Louis tiredly answered the door. “I am so, so sorry it’s been so long. I get switched on loads but it’s never for more than half an hour, it’s the single most frustrating thing ever, I feel so bad. You would not believe the week I have had,” he taller boy chuckled as he led the way through to the kitchen, talking excitedly. Louis sighed as he shut the door behind Harry and followed him, because he knew exactly the kind of week Harry had had, and the last thing he wasn’t to have to do was relive it. It had left Louis with tired, raw eyes and slightly shaking hands and a mind teetering on the edge of a fearful, dark place which Louis thought he had largely left behind and really didn’t want to have to face again, all which Harry had failed to notice.

“What happened?” he asked wearily, trying to pull himself together so that he didn’t appear a complete wreck when the boy he loved finally noticed him. His intense feelings for Harry hadn’t diminished in the slightest. If anything, they had grown, despite his pain. The thought of Harry alone sent shivers down his spine and goose bumps up his arms. He didn’t understand why the boy had such a devastating effect on him.

“It’s weird, I’ve become so much more accident-prone lately. First with the car, and I nearly cracked my head open slipping on the stairs at school, and then with everything that happened this week.” Louis held back a bitter scoff, knowing that these occurrences where anything but accidents. “On Monday, I nearly drowned, which was scary. I don’t know what happened because I’m a strong swimmer. I went back to get my drink, slipped and next thing I know, I’m waking up by the side of the pool.” Louis remembered the story very differently, and a lot less nonchalantly than the younger teenager described it. He remembered the feeling of uneasiness that settled over him when the teacher announced the class was going swimming. He remembered his internal conflict throughout the lesson between staying alert because of the high likelihood of the company trying something and the desire to just lose himself in watching Harry. He was fascinated by his pale, toned torso and the way that he moved surprisingly elegantly through the water. He remembered the icy fear that gripped his chest as Harry returned alone to the now-empty swimming pool to grab the forgotten energy drink. He remembered the sheer horror as once again, the world slowed to a near-stand-still around him as Harry slipped and, eyes wide and shocked, plunged straight into the water. He remembered his thoughts running at a hundred miles an hour in terror as he stripped down, panicking when Harry failed to surface again, diving and slicing the water in two, his small hands finding Harry’s chest, wrapping his arms around his torso and kicking for all he was worth, lungs screaming. He remembered the burning effort it had taken him to drag Harry onto the side of the pool, his pain as he gently smoothed the wet curls from his forehead and prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that Harry was still alive. He remembered the relief that he felt when Harry spluttered awake was largely overshadowed by what felt like a great weight pressing down in his chest and something constricting his throat so tightly he couldn’t breathe and suddenly it had felt like he was the one who was drowning.

Harry had continued to talk while Louis had zoned out and part of him was glad; he didn’t have to relive those other times as well. They were the moments that sparked the spiral he was reaching the bottom of and he was worried that he might break down right there in the kitchen if he was forced to remember the other two instances.

Part of him couldn’t believe that Harry was so blind about everything. Miraculously surviving three ridiculous experiences that should have killed him, within a week, just didn’t happen in a rational world. He was amazed that Harry couldn’t see the company’s, or indeed his own, part in the events that had transpired. Then he realized that Harry probably didn’t want to see it. But what were the chances of an overhead projector nearly falling on someone’s head in the same week that they nearly drown and fall off a bridge? It was almost laughable the way that the company appeared to be getting desperate. But it made Louis marvel at the wonders of the human brain and its ability to protect itself, unless you were him; his brain seemed to be his worst enemy, second only to the company itself.

Five times now he had saved Harry Styles’ life and he was well aware that it was destroying him. It was tearing him slowly and excruciatingly in two until his sanity was left hanging by a thread. He wasn’t aware he was speaking until the words were halfway out of his mouth.

“You have to leave,” he murmured, his voice thick and heavy. It sounded off, almost like it didn’t belong to him.

“What?” Harry stilled, his head snapping to finally gaze properly at Louis, finally noticing how awful he looked, he looked small and defeated. Harry had tried to avoid looking directly at him, confused by the feelings it set off in the pit of his stomach when he did, terrified of meeting those eyes, which he now knew were as devoid as he’d ever seen them, even when they first met. It was horrifying.

“You can’t stay here, I’m sorry. Leave, please.” Louis was staring at his shaking hands in his lap, his fingernails biting into the backs of the other hand, hating the words he spoke but knowing they were true. There were only so many times that he could save Harry and he didn’t want to watch him die, even if it meant they would both be dead within a week. Harry just stared at him, trying to understand why Louis was saying this, why there was a sick feeling building up in his throat.

“Louis, you look awful, what’s going on?” He asked, voice shaking slightly.

“Harry, please.” Louis stood up, leaning against the kitchen counter and staring out of the window into the inky blackness of night so that he wouldn’t have to see Harry’s face.

“Louis? Come on, tell me what’s going on, you’re worrying me.”

“Leave, Harry!” Suddenly Louis was shouting, then he was gone, storming up the stairs. A minute later a door slammed shut upstairs. Harry shuddered and hauled himself up, stumbling after Louis, numb.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, shoulders slumping. When he didn’t hear any noise, he reached out for the front door, his vision blurring slightly with tears he hadn’t been expecting. Then there were a few muffled thumps from upstairs and Harry pulled his hand back, snapped startlingly back to his senses.

“What the fuck am I doing?” He muttered desperately to himself, taking the stairs two at a time. When he reached the small corridor at the top, both Louis’ bedroom door and the bathroom door were open, which only left one room Louis could be in.

Harry exhaled nervously, long fingers curling carefully around the cool door handle and twisting, pushing the door open cautiously. Whatever he had expected in the room Louis had asked him to stay out of, what he found was not it.

The walls would have originally been completely white, but now they were largely covered by harsh, black words that screamed out at him and patches of broken plaster. Huddled in the corner, knees pulled tightly into his chest, was a sobbing Louis. The sight broke Harry's heart.

He took a minute to read some of the words that Louis had put there, his skin crawling as he did.

Die.

You’re worthless.

You’re nothing.

Harry realized as he took in the sight before him that he had only partially seen Louis’ suffering. It was only now, standing in the doorway of the room filled with Louis’ nightmares and torments that he truly saw Louis for the first time, as the broken, lost boy that he was.

Steeling himself against the horrors of the room, he closed the door behind him. He strode forward and crouched down by Louis, tentatively touching his forearm. Louis flinched away like he’d been given an electric shock, but Harry didn’t give up. Instead, he sat down next to Louis and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into his body. This time Louis didn’t resist, his fingers curling into Harry’s hoodie as he sobbed. Harry sighed as he took in Louis’ bloody knuckles, guessing what the thumps were and that one of the holes in the plaster were relatively new. With his free hand, he gently swiped his thumb across the knuckles, wiping away the scarlet evidence of Louis’ anguish.

“Lou?” Harry asked quietly after a little while of the two of them just sitting there. Louis’ sobs had quietened and now he was just shaking, but his fingers hadn’t lessened their grip. It wasn’t a real question, but Louis knew that Harry meant that he wanted answers now.

“I’m sorry,” he older boy replied, equally as quiet, voice rough.

“Don’t be. What happened?”

“I can’t do it. I can’t keep watching you nearly die, knowing that the next time, I might be too late.”

“What are you talking about Lou?” Harry asked, tightening his hold.

“These things that keep happening to you, they’re not accidents Harry. The company is trying to kill you, has been from the moment that car was supposed to hit you. Especially now that you’ve malfunctioned. Every time you nearly died, I...I was the reason you didn’t . I pulled you out of the way of the car, I caught you when you slipped on the stairs, I pulled you out when you nearly drowned, I pulled you out of the way of the projector and I pulled you back from the edge of the bridge.” Harry tensed, a lot of things suddenly making sense, his heart sinking at all the things that he had unknowingly put Louis through.

“Why would you do that?” Harry whispered, pulling back a little so he could gently sweep the fringe from Louis’ red eyes. In that instant, with blue eyes locked on green ones, Louis was tempted to tell Harry the truth – he kept saving his life and torturing himself in the process because he was completely in love with him. But it would be safer to lie. What did come out was somewhere in between the two; enough to tinge Harry’s cheeks pink, but not enough to show the true extent of his feelings.

“Because when you’re gone, I have nothing left to live for.” They lapsed into silence, Harry absentmindedly playing with Louis’ soft hair, both of them pondering the extent and nature of their feelings. This time it was Louis that broke the silence, his voice barely audible. “You were never supposed to see in here. You were never supposed to know about my demons.”

“You don’t have to hide anything from me Louis. I want to help you. Is this...is this how you vent?” Harry asked, gesturing to the words scrawled on the walls. Louis nodded slightly, leaning into Harry’s warmth.

“Stops me doing something stupid,” he murmured, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders as he shared his burden with the boy he loved.

“Good,” Harry murmured back. He slowly lifted his arm from Louis’ shoulders, making the smaller boy frown, especially when Harry pried his fingers from his hoodie, but he relaxed when he didn’t let going of the hand. His skin felt like it was on fire as Harry looked tenderly at him, standing up and helping Louis up too. Louis was still feeling weak from his crying session and couldn’t resist when Harry pulled him into a tight hug. Instead, he melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and burying his face in the crook of his neck. One of Harry’s arms stayed around his shoulders while the other one gently smoothed the back of his head.

“It’s okay. It will all be okay,” he whispered as he gently took Louis’ hand again. “Come on.” He led Louis out of the room, closing the door with a firm, definitive noise behind them, leading Louis into the warm comfort of his bedroom. “You’re going to relax and sleep and in the morning, we’ll work this out, okay?” Louis faltered, looking as though he was going to say something.

“Would you...would you stay? Here? In the room? I err...I get nightmares and it...it would be nice to have someone to comfort me.” Harry grinned and pulled his hand from Louis’, bouncing across the room to settle himself into the armchair by the window.

“I’ll stay right here,” he told Louis, his voice full off sincere promise. “I’ll just look out of the window while you change,” Harry flustered now, a little awkward. He pulled himself standing, turning and staring out into the night as Louis chuckled.

Suddenly, a movement in the soft glow of the streetlights caught Harry’s eyes. He leaned forward, trying to see better

“You okay?” Louis asked, little evidence of his previous breakdown bar the physical ones, noticing the way that Harry was tense now.

“Louis, there are a bunch of men on your street.”

“Don’t fret, they can’t see anything remember? They’re probably just heading down the pub,” Louis smiled.

“No, something’s wrong. It almost looks like a military operation; they’re all dressed in black and they look like they’re looking for something.” This caught Louis’ attention, and suddenly he was just as tense, appearing almost instantly at Harry’s side, peering out onto the street.

Suddenly, he made a small, strangled noise and yanked Harry back from the window.

“Shit!” he swore desperately, adrenaline instantly pumping through his veins. “Operatives!”

***

“Operative team 02 to Base. Destination reached. Commencing search for target.”