Status: Brand new! Layout to be completed soon, thank you :)

No Way of Knowing


Harry’s chest was bare as he lay sprawled across his bed, his legs tangled with hers as the sun brought him from his slumber. He bit his lip as he squeezed his eyes shut, shielding them from the bright light pouring in from the windows. “Mmf,” he mumbled, his hands finding the bare skin of her hip and bringing her tighter against his body.

She softly shoved him back, humming tiredly and blinking awake. He watched her carefully, his own eyes slowly adjusting to the light, as she came to. “Good morning,” she stated simply, pulling away before he could press a kiss to her lips and standing confidently to her feet. Her flawless Hollywood curves took the attention of the room, Harry unable to look away as she stretched in the middle of his room and began gathering her clothes.

He bit his lip and smiled, sitting himself up in an attempt to wake faster. “What’re you doing today?” she questioned curiously, clasping her bra behind her and going to the mirror above the dresser to examine herself before she pulled her dress back on.

He groaned softly as he tried to refresh his memory, rubbing his hands over his face in thought. “I’ve got most of the day off, but I’ll be meeting with a few friends tonight to do some writing.” He pursed his lips and pulled his hands from his face, dropping them in his lap as he tried to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything.

He was pulled from his thoughts by her lean body sitting in front of him and a hand setting on his bare thigh, his sheets covering most of his lap save for the side of one leg. She smirked at him, her big, green eyes staring into his. “Well, call me later,” she told him, the expression on her lips telling him what he needed to know, “I hope you’re not writing too late into the night.” She sat forward enough to press a slow, teasing kiss to his lips, then stood up and made her way from the room to find her things.

He sighed after her, staring at her as she left his room. “Damn,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head and getting up to tug some briefs onto his hips. As he passed the door, he grabbed the button-up that hung off of his doorknob, tossing it onto his shoulders and beginning to button it up his torso.

“Ken,” he called as she reached his front door. She stopped, turning to smile back at him. “You sure you don’t want one of my shirts and some pants? You’re my girlfriend, you can wear anything of mine you like…” He tried to smirk down at her, though he was sure his sentimental personality was shining through despite his efforts to seem suave. She smiled softly and leaned up, kissing his cheek.

“No, babe,” she shook her head, “Then they’d have me all over ‘em. They’re your clothes. I’ll see you tonight.” She sent him a playful wink and turned, slipping out of his front door and shutting it immediately behind her.

He sighed heavily as the door shut, letting his forehead rest against the cool wood of the surface as his fingers absentmindedly locked it for him.

Girlfriend was such a strange word, he thought.

But she had a thing for him, there was no doubt about that. Maybe it was just him that assumed all relationships were full of fluffy cuddles, constant kissing with no other intention, wearing shirts that aren’t yours and calling each other nicknames. He’d been fooled by films in his teen years and it was biting him in the arse.

She’d come around eventually; after all, she had a wall up. She was Kendra Blake, and she’d been around the block of fame more than a few times. She knew how it worked, she was being cautious.

He could wait.

Ring, ring.

Harry tugged himself away from the door and padded down the hallway, lifting his phone from the small table and pulling the charger cable from it. “Hello?” he answered as it reached his ear.

“Harry?” a voice cut through, the line full of interference, “Harry, it’s Ben. We’re going through the grapevine, but we’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

He caught a few words out of each phrase and got the message. “Yeah, yeah, Ben, I’ll be there. Is James coming?” There was a pause.

“Yes, yes, he’s coming. Can you hear me? Har?” Harry smiled and set his hand on his hip.

“I can hear you. I’ll see you tonight, Winston, don’t hurt yourself on set today.” There were a few laughs, a goodbye, and Harry’s thumb pressing to the red circle on the screen of his phone. He glanced up at the wall in front of him. It was blank but it told him one thing: he needed to get out for the day. Enjoy the Los Angeles sun.

So, he ran up the stairs to shower and dress for exactly that; a day of LA sun.


Only an hour’s drive away, life was very different.

He groaned softly against the heat as his eyes slowly blinked open; his lips were chapped and his body was aching from the awkward way he’d slept. His body, small and thin, was curled against the tunnel’s arch, and he immediately sat himself up away from it in an attempt to fix the crooks in his spine.

The air was burning with an intense heat as the sun’s waves flowed easily into the large tunnel. Above them, a barren freeway sprawled north and south, and they were hidden away safely from the cars that passed.

Anthony glanced up once he had come fully to, his eyes landing on the woman laid across from him. His brows knit together in worry and he crawled across the floor to her. “Mom?” he asked quietly, biting his lip and sitting back on his haunches. Tiredly, she turned her head and met his big, brown eyes.

“Sw-Sweetheart,” she said quietly, her lips twitching up in a small smile. Her skin was pale and her hair was frayed, tied loosely behind her head. A ragged scarf held it out of her face, but countless strands had escaped.

Hurriedly, Anthony turned for the pack that sat next to where he’d slept, pulling a bottle of water from it and shoving it forward towards her. “Mom, please drink,” he said as he unscrewed the cap. She shook her head, her hand slowly coming up to push it down.

“Tony, baby,” she stopped him, “No. Y-You need it.” Her chest was rising shallowly, falling slowly. Her lips were chapped as his were, but the color in them had drained. Anthony shook his head quickly, bringing the bottle to her lips in refusal. She couldn’t fight him, so she reluctantly took a small sip from the bottle. She admired her son’s beautiful eyes, wishing there was more life brewing in them. Instead she saw worry; an eight-year-old boy who’d already grown too fast.

Anthony’s bottom lip quivered as he capped the water bottle. He was trying to stay strong for his mom, but he couldn’t keep his hands from shaking. He was still barely awake from the long night of restless sleep.

“I love you,” she reminded him quietly, her lids tiredly closing.

“I love you, too, mom,” the small boy hurriedly replied, setting the bottle down and scooting closer to her. “What do I do…?” he asked her, “Can I get medicine?”

His small question, exemplary of how young he really was, reminded her that she couldn’t leave him alone like this. What would he do? He was just a boy. She had to hold on.

“Just stay with me, sweetheart,” she murmured through concerted breaths. He curled into her side, closing his eyes tightly and holding his mother close to him. It was hot and he didn’t know what to do. What could he do?

What would he-

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of a few cars rushing past above them. The road they lived under wasn’t too busy on your average day - today was a fairly average day. But the few cars that passed made young Anthony think.

“Mom, what if…” he trailed off, sitting himself up. He frowned as he saw her eyes closed. “Mom?” She hummed a small response, but couldn’t summon much more energy than that. Suddenly, Anthony knew he had to do something. His heart was racing. He didn’t have time like he thought he might. Quickly, the small boy scrambled to his feet and out of the tunnel. He climbed up the small hillside that led to the freeway. His mother’s breathless words rang in his head as he hurried to where the cars were. He had to save her, he had to do something.

As his socked feet reached the pavement, his matted brown locks threatening to fall into his eyes, Anthony looked both ways up and down the freeway. He looked down the side he was standing on; the cars coming from that direction were northbound, leaving Los Angeles itself.

Why would anyone ever leave? the boy thought quietly to himself.

He stood dutifully, waiting for a car. Just one car.

Well, one car came, and it passed. Anthony was desperate as he jumped up and down, his arms waving in the heat as three more cars drove up the freeway, not one of them stopping. Tears were suddenly forming in his eyes. He leant over the guardrail next to the open spot where he’d climbed up, checking on his mother. He could just make out her chest rising and falling. But her eyes were still closed.

He turned back to the road. Please. Please.


“I’m just going for a drive, Payno,” Harry spoke into his phone, tossing his keys in one hand as he strutted from his house. The watch on his wrist read 10 in the morning. “No need to worry.”

“But you just… Where are you even going?” Liam sighed on the other end, “Are you going to be back in time for your meeting?”

“You alright, Liam? You know I wouldn’t miss a chance to take the piss out of James for the shit he’s been doing on the show.” Harry chuckled as he climbed into his car, putting the top down and turning the key in the ignition. Liam rolled his eyes at that, listening to his idiot friend start up his car.

“Fine, fine. Still don’t understand the appeal of just… driving. But do what you do, Styles. I won’t pretend to understand.” Harry accepted that answer, nodding to himself and letting his sunglasses dip down over his eyes as he pulled from his driveway.

“Thanks, Payno. Talk soon, yeah?” he murmured, navigating out of his neighborhood. The two exchanged farewells before Harry tossed his phone casually onto the passenger seat, an arm resting over the side of his door. There was only a slight breeze as he made his way out of the city, the sun bathing him in light and warmth. His hair was tugged strand by strand out of the bun he’d placed on top of his head, but he was enjoying the warm wind.

A lot of people wondered why he’d spend his time off here in LA, instead of home in Holmes Chapel or even in London; but Harry didn’t wonder at all. He loved the weather, the people, the atmosphere of LA. No other place was like it.

On a day like today, he wanted to take full advantage of the motorways around the city, just detached enough that he wouldn’t see any camera flashes, but still a part of the incredible atmosphere that was the City of Angels.

As he drove, the city just starting to fade behind him, he couldn’t help but turn his music down. For just a moment, he wanted to completely take it in. He felt more himself out here than he cared to admit. He often found himself playing a role when he was surrounded by so many other faces. And how could he not? He couldn’t be himself around them - what on Earth would they think? No. He had to be Harry St-

“Help!” The shout woke him, brought him out of autopilot, his eyes coming to focus on a small boy jumping and waving his arms off the side of the road. His eyes widened, his feet coming to slam on his brakes and hands swiftly maneuvering the car to the shoulder as his heart pounded in his chest. What was this kid doing?

“Please, help, it’s my mom!” the little boy cried, running up behind the car. Without taking a breath to wonder further, Harry pushed himself out of his car, sliding his keys quickly into his pocket as he jogged to the boy.

“What is it, what’s happened? I don’t see an accident, where’s your car?” Harry blurted questions, his brows furrowed and lips parted with even more. Before they could roll off his tongue, the boy was grabbing his hand, the small one being engulfed entirely by Harry’s as he was tugged fervently down the side of the freeway. “Jesus, where are we-”

He was breathing heavily, his mind unable to process, until he was met with the sight the boy’d been bringing him to. A woman, so thin her bones were easily visible under her skin, lay curled into the side of the tunnel, her head lolled to one side and chest barely rising. Harry’s heart stopped at the sight, and he brought himself to his knees beside the woman. “Oh my god,” he bumbled, quickly sitting her head up. “Are you alright? Are you okay? What’s happening?”

He turned to the boy, not thinking about his question before he asked is; “Do you live down here?” He was almost incredulous. The boy frowned heavily and nodded, his head hanging as he stood worriedly staring at his mother.

Harry immediately felt terrible, turning back to the woman and feeling the heat on her skin. “Christ, you’re too hot,” he mumbled. She couldn’t even look at him, too weak to move. He spotted the water bottle and pointed to it. “Can you give me that?” he asked quickly, taking it from the boy as quickly as he could.

He poured the water onto his hands and patted them together, quickly soaking her skin in the water, around her neck, collarbones, forehead, her cheeks and her wrists and hands. He was trying to cool her down and it wasn’t working. He quickly moved his hand to his pocket. “Shit,” he whispered, mentally cursing himself - his phone was in his car.

He turned to the boy. “Stay right here, keep giving her small sips, yeah?” He handed the boy the water, then immediately ran from the tunnel.

As he climbed back up to his car, Harry desperately tried to process what was happening; five seconds ago it seemed, he was driving happily up the freeway. What was happening? Was this real? Was he still driving and just having a vivid daydream?

His fingers were numbly dialling 9-1-1. The operator was picking up. He was stumbling over his words to explain to her the situation, attempting his very best to give her a location and how to find them. She assured them an ambulance would be there in minutes, and to stay on the phone.

He was beside the woman again, his heart pounding so loudly against the inside of his chest that he was sure both her and the young boy could hear it.

He held the phone in one hand, the operator’s voice on speaker as his hand was waving air at the woman’s head and neck. Anthony was giving her sips of the water, but half of them weren’t received, simply dribbling down her chin past her parted, chapped lips. Harry frowned heavily at the realization of just how weak she was.

“Do you have a towel or rag or something?” Harry mumbled to the boy. The boy nodded his head, sniffling as he looked down at his mother. Harry was shaking now, nervous as he realized this woman’s life was essentially in his hands. The boy stood and went to his pack, rifling through it.

As he returned with the cloth, they were all three interrupted by the sound of sirens blaring above them in the distance. An ambulance was fast approaching, and Harry looked to the boy in panic.

As he was going to tell the boy to stay here with the woman, she spoke the first words he’d heard her say. She set a hand lightly on Harry’s wrist to tell him it was okay, looking to her son. “Ho..Honey… Go g-get them, ok-kay…? I love y-you.” The boy’s eyes welled up and he nodded.

“Okay, mom,” he responded quickly, “I love you, too.” He pressed a kiss quickly to her cheek, before running up the side of the hill to flag down the ambulance. Harry was suddenly alone with her, and he was terrified as he looked down at her. Thank god the ambulance was here; they would know what to do, they could save her, they could fix this. She would be okay.

But she met his eyes and hers were wide; they were filled with emotion, swimming with fear and guilt and hope and love and a greater melancholy than Harry could comprehend. She tried to grasp onto his wrist. “H-His name is Anthony J-James,” she spoke softly. “Anthony James Ferguson.” She winced as her own voice broke; it sounded like she was crying, but there were no tears.

With a shaky breath, she opened her mouth again.

Harry stared down at her, his eyes widening as he realized what she was doing. “That’s a beautiful name, just.. just wait, okay, they’re right there, they’re here, just hang on for me,” he pleaded, “You’re gonna be just fine, just-”

Quietly, she cut him off, speaking through a whimper and it was then he knew she was crying, but was too dehydrated to make tears. “He w-was born on April 24… He’s o-only eight years o-old…” He heard voices coming from the top of the hill as her grip on his wrist suddenly weakened.

She stared up into Harry’s eyes,. “Please t-take care of him… Please make s-sure he’ll be okay…Please.” He nodded without another thought.

“Y-Yes, of course, I’ll make sure, he’ll be ok-kay,” he was crying, he didn’t know until that moment but he was crying as he looked down into her eyes.

Something that resembled a smile found its way onto her lips as peace seemed to fill her eyes. She gave a small, almost unnoticeable nod, giving in. Anthony would be okay.

And so she let go.

“No, no, wait…!” Harry whimpered, leaning forward further and grabbing her hand in both of his. He was rendered speechless as she went completely silent, chest no longer rising.

Mom! Mommy…! No!

Paramedics jogging in from behind him, Anthony’s voice shouting and shouting. Harry didn’t move. He couldn’t. They unclasped him from her but he couldn’t… He wouldn’t… He couldn’t.

What had just happened would change his life forever.
♠ ♠ ♠
Thank you all so much for reading!

This is a new idea; please let me know if you think I should continue it. Comments and feedback are always much appreciated! Thank you guys. <3


This is dedicated to Anthony James Radke; 1980-2013. Rest in Peace, Anthony.