"And I don't know anything
Except that green is so green
And there's a special kind of sadness that seems to come with spring."
— Florence + the Machine, South London Forever
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Okay, this is a fan-fiction. Fan-FICTION.
I do not own one direction, I am not a medical profession, and I do not study law. I am changing things around and making up false information to make this story the way I want.

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His mother was hysterical. Very much so that she was on her way to the airport. She took time off work and hopping on a plane to Jasper and left her kids with Louis' aunt.

As promised, Louis changes after his phone call. He is escorted to the washroom, and away from all the buzzing officers and townspeople. For the first time in seven days, he sees himself in the reflection of the mirror.

His skin had a grey undertone and the bags under his eyes were near to black. His lips were cracked from the cold and had a muted pink colour. The dullness in his eyes is what surprised him the most. The usual bright blue was now a foggy cerulean. His hair matted and knotted atop his head, falling over his dead eyes. Louis avoids looking at his bare body, he didn't want to see what pushed Jackson into taking him.

"Liam, nothing interesting in that neighbourhood by Peektoe but I talked to that couple, turns out they have security cameras around their house," Harry says. "I watched the part where Louis walked up to their door."

"What happened?" Liam inquires.

"He came from the South end of the lake. I went over to the next house and it was gated off. I tried the buzzer and no one answered."

At that moment, the washroom door opens and that god awful creak sounding through the narrow hallway. Louis is the center of attention. And, Liam sees the expression on the London boy's face and the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "What's wrong?" Liam asks cutting off his and Harry's conversation.

After seconds that dragged on, Louis answers with a quiet voice. "I saw myself." Both officers had to strain their ears to hear Louis.

Liam lowers his voice. "Why is that wrong?"

Louis looks up at them and is astonished to see a familiar face. Those same green eyes he remembers from his teen years in London, that curly brown hair now in soft waves and those pink lips he knew all too well. A wave of bewilderment flows over him, but Liam snaps him out of it. "Louis."

"He didn't have mirrors." Louis casts his gaze back on his sock-clad feet.

The brown-eyed officer steps back, "Did 'he' have a name?"

Louis froze, like a deer in headlights. It was different thinking of Jackson in contrast to saying his name was much worse. It brought up the fact that he was real, and that he wasn't someone Louis conjured up in his mind. He was a real man who drugged Louis at a London bar and took him on a boat to Canada. Saying his name was saying that for the first time in Louis' life, monsters were real.

In response to Liam's question, Louis silently shakes his head and begins his way back to Liam's cubical. The sounds around him are almost muffled but he hears Liam's and Harry's conversation loud and clear.

"So, do you think that's the house?"

Harry clears his throat. "We won't know unless he says something."

Louis tries not to flinch at the bitterness in Harry's tone. It was clear that Louis' appearance has erupted the same discomfort as it has for Louis when he saw the tall man. He felt like a stranger, though he was. It wasn't the fact that he was in a new town, in an entirely new country and continent that made him feel like an alien. It was the way Harry looked at him, his green eyes never looked so cold, and almost angry. His attitude told more than his facial expressions though. He didn't like Louis' presence one bit.

Liam clears his throat before kneeling by Louis' legs. His kind and welcoming brown eyes make the goosebumps disappear on Louis' skin. "Are you ready to talk now?"

In a sick way, Louis was more scared of being in a police station than in Jackson's hold. At least he knew where the man was. He knew the daily schedule and what was bound to happen. Here, sitting in a hard plastic chair with no idea where his kidnapper was hiding—Louis felt a lump rise in his throat and shakes his head.

Harry scoffs.

"Okay." Liam's tone is gentle, he stands back up to his full height and knees crack before leaving his cubical, right after Harry.

Louis let out a breath of relief. Harry's unnerving presence was suffocating. 

"Are you cold?"

Louis shrinks further into the chair. Momentarily glancing at the pants very well drag on the floor as he walks and the shirt draped over him, the sleeves passing his fingertips. "A little."

"Harry, will you get me a jacket?" Liam calls out loud. The phones ringing and the many voices were giving Louis a headache, it was all a little too loud for Louis' liking. Not to mention the bright lights hanging from the ceiling.

Over in the next cubical, Harry stands and catches Louis' eye. Instead of staring, Louis' gaze returns to Liam, the man sitting before him in a chair similar to his. A notepad in his hand and a pen between his fingers.

"Can you at least tell me his name?" Liam asks, leaning forward on his knees.

Louis felt as if saying Jackson's name would bring the man to appear. He wanted to go the rest of eternity never acknowledging the man.

Louis shakes his head again.

A sigh sounds from Liam, he had plenty of patience though his frustration was more for Louis' well-being than his own. The first step to growing from traumatic experiences is to talk about it—and the London boy's lips were sealed.

"Are you hungry?"

Louis nods, just as Harry returns. He's holding a thick long coat, it's a dark blue and will surely keep Louis warm enough. The officer hands it to Louis, then is leaving before the boy can even thank him.

"Horan!" Liam calls out, causing a blond head to pop up from a cubical. "Take Louis to the lunchroom, please. Find him something to eat."

With Louis gone, Liam can finally drop his head on his desk. He lets out a long breath and almost jumps when he hears a voice.

"Angry?"

Liam knows it's Harry from the slightly faded English accent. "No."

"Sure looks like it." The other man notes. There's a soft creaking and Liam assumes Harry's sat in the chair before his desk.

"I did some research on the address of the gated property. It's owned by the Millards."

Liam sits up, raising a brow. The Millards were one of the most elite families in Alberta. Their family is known for their large impact on oil industries and the status of their bank account is in the billions. The Millards owned plenty of estates in the province, and one is under as much suspicion as the one by Peektoe lake was enough to bring in reporters.

"I'll give the Millards a call, and you take Louis to the doctors after he's done eating." Liam orders, already reaching for the landline on his desk.

Harry slowly rises from the chair. "He was already checked up."

Liam rolls his eyes and if he weren't so worked up, he'd probably apologize. "By Horan, you trust a guy who dropped out of medical school?"

"At least he went," Harry mutters.

Liam brushes off the other officer's words. "Listen, we found Louis' files. All we need is a legit checkup from a licensed doctor." Liam says. "Then, he comes back and we can determine if he's in the right mindset to give us his statement—if the Millards are a part of his kidnapping that is."

"Where do you think you're going?"

The shining badge Louis dreaded seeing was only a mere inch from his nose. He takes a deep breath and keeps his stare on his dirty socks. "I wanted fresh air."

Harry remains still before him. His chin reaching the top of Louis' head, and the blue-eyes boy tries not to think of how much he grew.

Louis used to be taller than Harry, after all, he was older. The last time he saw Harry was years ago when Harry grew to the same height as Louis but they were both in their teens. Harry was now bigger, and broader in every aspect in contrast to the pudgy sixteen-year-old Louis vaguely remembers seeing back in London.

Now, Harry was probably twenty-three and an adult. His uniform stretched around his shoulders and his biceps. The material a deep blue, clean of any lint and wrinkles.

"Are you going to move?"

Louis tightens his hold on the coat and quickly steps to the side to let Harry pass but the officer stays put. The tension was thick between them, Louis wanted to cut it with a knife.

"Officer Payne wants me to take you to an actual doctors office."

Louis looks up, Harry is already staring at him. "Okay?"

"All right, move."

"I.." Louis blinks rapidly.

"Well?" Harry urges, obviously irritated. "Go on."

"I don't have shoes." Louis keeps his gaze glued to his wiggling toes in his socks.

"There's a lot of snow," Louis notes, watching the snow slide off the tips of the boots that were too large for him. He even tied the laces extra tight but the shoes still dragged on the ground with every step.

Harry turns the heat up in the car. "It's winter."

"This is a lot, even for winter." The snow finally starts melting off Louis' boots.

"It's Canada." Harry ended the conversation there.

The tension in the car was making Louis feel so small, so insignificant. He instead focuses on the sound of the tires crushing snow and the soft hum of the engine. Louis wants to dig his fingertips over the worn leather of the vehicle, but he keeps his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.

"I like your car." Louis compliments quietly.

"It's a truck." Harry corrects.

The London boy gulps, shrinking into himself. "I like your truck." He murmurs.

Harry sits stiffly in his seat when they come up to a red light. "My parents bought it for me when I became a part of the RCMP."

Louis looks outside as the people cross the road, all bundled up tightly in their coats, scarves, and hats. "What's that?"

"Royal Canadian Mountain Police."

"Oh," Louis turns, with a quirked brow. "That sounds... Royal?" He attempts to lighten the mood because, at the moment, it was still incredibly tense.

Harry doesn't laugh, not one bit. He doesn't even smile the least.

"So, you weren't always here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Here." Louis gestures around them. "In Jasper."

"No," Harry answers curtly as they begin driving again. "I joined Jasper's force just two years ago."

"Why?" Louis wants to keep talking. He hasn't seen Harry in so long and finally, the man isn't being so bitter.

Though, the car comes to a stop. And Harry cuts the ignition. "We're here."

It isn't long until Louis steps into the doctor's office and is sat on the cushioned table. It was like Harry was allergic to Louis because as soon as the doctor walked in, he made a quick move to leave. "I'll be outside."

"Officer Styles," the doctor says abruptly. "You don't want to stay?"

Harry shakes his head. "I'd rather not, thank you, Dr. Bloom."

"Would you rather have Officer Styles stay?" The doctor turns to Louis, her glasses on the tip of her nose.

Louis gulps. He didn't like feeling like he was a burden, but Harry already made that very clear. The last thing he wanted to do is give Harry another reason to hate him, just like he did all those years ago. So he shakes his head. "No, thank you."

Then, Harry's green eyes slowly comb over Louis' small frame before the door shuts.

"Well, Louis. I already spoke with Officer Payne and he told me of your.. condition." The doctor pulls a small stool closer to Louis. "How are you feeling?"

Louis looks down at his feet. "I don't know."

Dr. Bloom takes off her glasses and gently places them on the table. "I understand what you went through, but I need you to communicate with me." She folds her hands in her lap. "Can you do that for me?"

Louis didn't know what made him so nervous all of a sudden, maybe it was the fact that the blinds were wide open, or Dr. Bloom had an odd quirk in her brow, or it was the fact that Harry was gone—but surely it wasn't that. He finds it in himself to nod slowly. "I can try."

Dr. Bloom smiles, her straight pearly white teeth nearly blinding him. "Great. Now, I'll just ask you a few questions and we can get started on your blood tests and all that. Okay?"

Just when Louis is about to nod again, a knock on the door sounds. Not a moment later, it's open and a dark blue hat pokes its way in.

"My apologies, Dr. Bloom. I just need something." The smile on Harry's face has Louis staring a little too long. "My jacket." Harry holds out an open palm.

Louis slumps then proceed to slip off the large parka and pass it to the officer. And with that, Harry leaves. With a tip of his hat at the doctor and no last glance at Louis.