Note: howdy everyone, I hope you're doing well. I just want to clear up a few things in this story. Even though it must be pretty clear, I am not writing Harry or Louis as perfectly polished characters. I want to show their flaws and I want to make you hate them — maybe not hate but I want you to feel something when you read this story. I want you to be angry about their decisions, thought process, and how they handle situations.

I absolutely love reading the comments about you hating my characters, it's the best compliments I've ever got :^) have a yee-haw day.

P.S. this chapter was inspired by:
Florence and the Machine - Grace
Rihanna - California King Bed

P.S.S. italics are flashbacks.

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All the walls were melting and there were mermaids
everywhere
Hearts flew from my hands and I could see people's feelings — Florence + the Machine, Grace
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"My baby," Louis' mother weeps into her son's hair, holding him so close that it was hard to see where one started and the other began. "I missed you. I love you." She cries. "I know you haven't been told that enough, my poor baby."

Harry's heart sinks. He knows he isn't involved Louis' mother's words but he couldn't help it, he blamed himself. He hasn't told Louis and he said it enough. He hasn't said it enough because he hasn't said it at all. Not a word has been spoken about how frequently Louis' mother called asking about her son, how he feels about Louis, and how loved Louis is.

He wishes he could see people's feelings. The secrets between him and Louis were almost unbearable. He wants to know how Louis feels about him and if his emotions are as out of the element as Harry's. It would put his mind at ease with knowing Louis' true feelings that aren't blinded by his desperation for a familiar affection.

Harry couldn't pretend he never wanted to see Louis again. But it wasn't worth it when he was put through so much pain. Though, Harry was expecting to see Louis again when scrolling through his social media, or while visiting London in a decade.

In a part of Harry's mind where reality failed to puncture with dread, were his dreams. His dreams of fantasy, set in a world where the past doesn't matter and he meets Louis again. They would exchange small smiles, Harry would charm Louis as always, and they would agree to meet again. It would be one for the books, the two of them would get back together. They would be honest, sincere and, thoughtful. They would love each other. Oh, what a blessing it would be to live in a world like that.

But Louis treated Harry the worst. It never leaves Harry's mind, the pain, the loneliness and the weight of not being good enough. Harry had faith in them, he had it until the day Louis stomped on his heart. Now, the faith was weak, so small and just a seedling in Harry's heart. It was up to fate if Louis would shine on it again, and water it with his loveliness and radiance until it grew so big that there was nothing that could tear it down.

Harry watches from the side of his porch as Anne leads both Louis and his mother inside and away from Jasper's snowfall. He closes his eyes, letting the cold bite and nip at his exposed skin. He couldn't let it go. He wanted to forgive Louis but how could he when Louis set fire to the tree of faith in Harry's heart. His dedication to Louis was suffocating. He couldn't dream of leaving Louis out of his care, and now that was threatened since he was no longer an officer.

Harry looks up, through the opened curtains of his house. He could see the kitchen where Louis was sitting at the table with his mother wrapped around him, her forehead pressed against his as her lips formed words. He couldn't let Louis hurt any longer. The world, the Millards, and Jackson were going to destroy him even more than already they have.

"Honey," his mother calls from the porch, holding her cardigan tight as the wind blows through her hair. "Come inside before you catch something."

Harry shakes his head, glancing back at Louis to see him crying and wiping his tears with a tissue. He couldn't abandon Louis in the cold darkness when he had a light, he just needed to find it. Then he would help guide Louis through the dark and bring him somewhere gentle and warm. "I'll be back, eat without me." Harry fiddles with his keys and unlocks his truck before hopping in.

His mother frowns, "where are you going?" She steps outside in slippers. "Harry!" She calls out when the door shuts.

Harry rolls down his window, putting his truck in reverse. "I'll be back soon," he promises. "I'll tell you once I get back." Then he's gone, down the street and speeding into the setting sun of the winter.

"Your sisters miss you so much." Louis' mother grabs another tissue, delicately wiping the hot tears from Louis' cheeks. "They wanted to come, but there was only one ticket on the flight I took." She looks at Anne. "The weather is supposed to get worse, I overheard the pilot speaking of a snowstorm coming."

Anne hums, pouring three cups of hot tea. When Louis gets his mug, he stares at it because he hasn't had tea in so long. Only hot chocolate lately, Harry made him a thermos of it before he left for work. Louis didn't tell him he liked hot chocolate, he assumes Harry just knew.

"Winter isn't too kind here," Anne recalls before going on about a snowstorm that left them without power for almost two days.

Louis listens quietly, the only thing keeping him from drifting off was his mother's heavy hand on his knee. Though, his mind still wanders. He thinks about Micheal, having not seen him for days. Even though Micheal is one of the few good things in Jasper, Louis' mind falls onto Harry. He saw him drive down the street, Anne only said he has errands to run, though it's almost eight in the evening. Louis just hopes Harry takes care of himself because, after everything they went through, Harry was taking care of him, even when he wasn't aware of it.

The moment Harry walks into the station, all eyes are on him. No doubt the other officers heard about his forced leave. They all watch silently as Harry marches up to Liam's cubical before continuing their day in a hushed manner.

Liam is on the phone when Harry halts before his desk, his brown eyes trail up Harry's jeans and zipped thick parka before landing on his determined face. "I'll transfer you to Officer Nest," he presses a button on the landline before standing. "Nest! You've got a call on line two." He informs the cubicle across from his then plops on his chair again. He runs a hand through his hair.

Harry knows how stressed Liam was, whether it from Harry's absence or Louis' case, it was taking a toll on him. He had dark circles forming around his eyes and a frown etched on his face. "How much sleep have you gotten?"

Liam laughs, without an ounce of humour. "Two hours. I call it a nap rather than actually sleeping."

Harry slowly sits in the plastic chair before Liam's desk. He grabs a pen from the small can on the wood surface and twiddles it between his fingers. "It's Mrs. Millard, right?"

The brown-eyed man sighs, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed. "Yes, that and the fact my best friend is no longer in my workplace."

Best friend, Harry repeats in his head. Harry would consider Liam to be something close to a brother. They knew each other so well, after immediately clicking the moment Harry walked into the station on his first day. Liam had shown him the ropes of dealing with real situations rather than the scenarios Harry would practice on. It was different from the RCMP. The two have known each other for two years, and it went by in the blink of an eye. Yet, even with the weight on their shoulders, Harry wouldn't go back to the RCMP if they begged him, he loved Jasper. He loved being a part of Jasper's force.

"I can help," Harry holds out his hand, "now, before you say no, I know I can get a confession out of her."

Liam is weary, eyeing him suspiciously. "How?"

"Just believe me." Harry drops the pen in its rightful spot and shifts in the chair. "Do you think the Chief would let me speak with her?"

"No," Liam answers immediately. "He's still iffy about allowing Louis to stay with you."

Harry stiffens. It pained him to think of Louis being taken from him again. He couldn't let him go, not after he got him back, they couldn't take him again. He meets Liam's eyes, gulping nervously. "If I get a confession out of her, will he let Louis stay with me?"

Liam doesn't speak for a few moments. Harry could see the gears turning in his head. "I doubt it." He says honestly. "He thinks Louis isn't protected," he drags a hand down his face, "he doesn't think Louis is safe with you."

Harry wasn't going to let them believe he was incapable of protecting Louis without a weapon or without the title of an officer. Harry was more than an officer with a gun, he was a human with intense devotion and a willingness to be in danger if it meant the ones he cared about are safe. He was willing to do anything to keep Louis safe, mentally and physically. That was more powerful than any weapon.

"Protection isn't only in the form of a weapon, Liam. I'm protecting Louis from himself." Harry didn't have a gun, he didn't have handcuffs or a taser. He had Louis' trust, even if just a sliver of it. He had it. And he was protecting Louis from the darkness within himself, the deep abyss that would drag him down and hold him hostage in his own nightmares. Harry was there for fall damage, to pick up the pieces of Louis and mould him back together with warmth.

"Would the Chief rather have Louis under surveillance and losing his mind trapped in a dingy, old motel where Jackson could find him and swipe him back or would he rather have Louis in my hands, in my care, in my own home, where his mind would be at ease? If he lets Louis anywhere near that motel, his mind will melt and it would take days to pull him back."

Harry's seen first hand at how fragile and jittery Louis is when he's under. "Louis can't give a statement when he's under that amount of stress and alarm. Bringing him back to that motel will not only have him hanging as bait, but it will ruin all his chances of getting justice from the Millard's and their sketchy reputation."

Bait, if they were desperate enough and in a life-or-death situation, Harry knows they would set Louis up in the motel and do a stakeout for Jackson's return. Jackson found him once at the motel, he will find him again. If the Chief is thinking about how much safer Louis would be the motel, they might as well build a neon sign with Louis' name in bright pink letters pointing to the door of his room. Leading Jackson right on his tail.

Hopefully, they recognize the delicacy of the situation. With a runaway kidnaper stamped with a famous name and a silent anxious London boy with a barrier forbidding him from remembering any details about his abduction—it would be more than immoral to use Louis as bait. This wasn't a movie, it wasn't dramatized, this was real.

"Louis' well-being should be everyone's number one concern if they want to solve this case," Harry speaks slowly. "You will destroy him if you put him back in that motel." Back in that motel and away from Harry.

Moments stretch into minutes, Harry stares long and deep into Liam's unconfident gaze. The man opens and shuts his mouth several times, before settling on a few words. "You really care for him?"

If someone had asked Harry that same question when Louis first arrived all those days ago, which Harry lost count of, Harry would say he cared for him because he had to. He was selfish, he is selfish and that won't change. Harry merely cared for Louis because it was his job, and now that he didn't have one anymore, he was begging to keep him. "Like no one else can." He says simply, it was a painful truth. Harry has always been a fool for Louis, he was bound to fall for him again. Harry was bleeding for him, he was committed to a rocky relationship that came at the wrong time. But he couldn't let go, not again.

Harry wants to jump out of his seat when Liam hesitantly nods. "Okay, I'll ask the Chief." He sees Harry's face light up, "but don't expect a blessing or something, he's still pissed about what you did to that Loughty fellow."

Harry watches Liam leave, wallowing in his own self-pity because of his impulsiveness. A big part of Harry was who he was not. He was not an ideal human, he had flaws, he was blessed with compassion and cursed with selfishness. He was determined to shower Louis in light, in warmth and in everything he could.

They were chest to chest, staring into each other's eyes. Palm to palm, fingers tangled and their breaths fanning over each other's faces. Harry shifts, his nose brushes Louis', he offers him an anxious smile. Louis returns with a small sigh of contentment. Harry's gaze falls to his lips, the pink glowing in the dim light shining through the small window.

"This wood is uncomfortable."

Harry chuckles, curling closer to Louis, very slowly because he's afraid of disrupting their tiny bubble of tranquillity. "This was your idea."

"But, you're supposed to remember blankets and pillows. Comfort things." Louis mutters, eyelashes gracing his cheekbones. The moonlight dances over his profile, his good side, what Harry calls it.

"It slipped my mind."

Louis hums, closing his eyes. "You are supposed to be the mature one in this relationship." He murmurs.

If Harry weren't so nervous, he would have laughed. He just gulps, in a trance at Louis' breathtaking appearance. The Earth was kind to him, giving him someone exquisite, so perfect, someone who he couldn't conjure up on his own but that was all right. Louis was one of a kind, a dream Harry didn't know he had. Harry has been trapped in his mind the entire night, building up the courage to tell Louis his true feelings. They were only 16 and 18, but those three words, eight letters weighed heavily on Harry's tongue. His heart swells and sweat beads on his brow, not from the strange sudden humidity of London.

"I think I lov—" He's cut off by a soft snore coming from Louis' lips. Harry's breath dips, letting all his nerves wash off and he slumps onto the rough wood planks of Louis' treehouse. He closes his eyes too, tugging Louis close and deciding he has all the time in the world to tell Louis those three words. The world could wait for them, it had to.

"Harry?"

He's pulled from his brain and away from reliving those memories, he cherished deeply. His head snaps up at Liam who's leaning on his desk, staring at Harry oddly.

His next words give Harry hope. "The Chief said you have five minutes."

Harry could drop to his knees and praise Liam for convincing the Chief, the cold man who Harry once thought of as a close father figure. He hasn't seen him in days, Harry doesn't take it to heart. After all, he doesn't work at the station anymore.

Mrs. Millard is less than ecstatic see him. Her cat-like gaze burns into Harry's forehead, her posture rigid and lips twisted in a scowl. The air in the interview room was cold like Mrs. Millard's presence dropped the temperature. Her arms are crossed over her chest, her watch reflecting the light and her diamond ring glimmering. She doesn't say a word, keeping her steady intimidating stare on Harry as he slowly settles in the chair before her.

Harry only had five minutes, he was going to make it work. He was going to save Louis and keep him in his arms, in his warm home. "Why did you do it?" He gets straight to the point.

Mrs. Millard only narrows her eyes, the pure hatred making Harry shift in his chair. Her red lips part for a scoff.

"He was your only son." Harry continues, determined to get the truth out of her. "He was your own flesh and blood, your own self. And you abandoned him."

Mrs. Millard chair creaks when she shifts, and her eyes are dead set on Harry's face. He's never seen so much rage before but wills himself to not submit. He had to do this, for Louis. "How could you make him suffer like that? Did it ever occur to you that he didn't ask to be sick?"

That makes Mrs. Millard's hard gaze flatter, her lips part and she seems to be looking through Harry and at the window behind him. Harry knows what's going through her mind, he knows what to do next.

"You're guilty actions ruined a human you were made to care for." Harry presses, taking advantage of the glassy look in her eyes. "Monsters aren't born, they're created after torture. And you tortured your son to keep your reputation clean."

"Stop." Mrs. Millard's voice is weak and just above a whisper. Harry looks at her, the scowl is gone and replaced with her lips in a thin line.

Harry doesn't listen to her, he needs her confession. "Days he went without food, affection, you and your husband have all the crime and hurt he caused on your hands." Harry leans forward, raising his voice because he doesn't know how much time he has left. "You two are the real monsters and once your husband is found, you will both pay for what you've caused. Both for the torment of your son and for an innocent man."

Despite his words, Mrs. Millard's will is cracking slowly. Too slowly for the few minutes Harry has. The pleasure of keeping Louis is slipping from his fingertips, he sees Louis fading away. Harry was starting to lose hope again, he couldn't let Louis fade away, not again, not ever.

"You and your husband not only starved and neglected your sick son, but you also did more." Harry swallows the lump in his throat. "You burned him."

Mrs. Millard lip wobbles, her eyes well up with tears and her hands clench the edge of the metal table. "Say it," Harry stands. "You know it's true. I bet you even remember it. You remember looking into his eyes and doing what you did, all because you and your husband couldn't have the public know about your son and his disorder."

"Your reputation has more value than your own flesh, a human who trusted you the moment he was born. You destroyed every inch of humanity he had with everything you did, and you're ruining your own by staying silent and hiding." Harry emphasizes.

One tear falls from Mrs. Millard's eye, the guilt and sorrow washing over her face and just as suddenly as it comes, a knock on the door sounds. Mrs. Millard face alters into her stone-cold expression, the tear disappeared with a single swipe of her finger and her posture straightens yet again.

Harry knows he lost. He understands what he's failed to do, but when he hears Liam's voice, he follows without a word. He was on the side of justice and truth, he was on the side of Louis and giving him the sunshine he needed. But the Millard's were a cluster of angry grey clouds, forbidding him from saving Louis. They were monsters who created a monster. Harry was just a man with a heart the size of his head and a will to move mountains for his first love who was cursed to live under the Millard's storm. All because Harry had lost.

NOTE: thank you all for waiting for this update. i don't like leaving cliffhangers so i needed to write this all lol and i was really iffy about this chapter. i'm not satisfied but hope you all enjoy it. pls tell me your thoughts.