"Uh, so..." I stammer, checking if the door's locked out of awkwardness, before slowly making my way to the living room. "Do you want anything to drink, or..?"

"Yeah, you have any soda?" Harry asks back, lifting his leg on my couch, his left foot underneath his right thigh as he watches me with slightly raised eyebrows. I hope he knows that I'm not usually this slow at reacting to requests and questions; I'm still trying to comprehend whatever the hell that's going on here.

"I do," I almost choke the words out, walking to the kitchen that's only separated from the living room by a half wall. "Um... I'm boring, I only have coke."

"That'll do it," Harry's voice rings through the room, his constant optimistic tone leaving me a little baffled. Basically, he knows what she's like – obviously – and he knows what she's doing, and he still sounds so positive about being here. I'm gonna be at least a little confused about it.

I take one of the red cans from my fridge and go back in the living room, tossing it to Harry as I sit on the arm of the sofa, opposite of him. I lift my feet up on the couch and wait for him to start talking, while he inspects the object that looks a lot smaller in his hands than it does in mine.

"So..." I start again, clapping my hands together as Harry looks up at me, with a blank expression. "What brings you here? Other than my shirt."

For a second he looks like he's about to say something, but closes his mouth in the end. I'm even more confused than I was two minutes ago when he starts smiling at me, his grin growing by the second; and I finally become freaked out when he starts laughing while watching me. "I'm sorry," He chuckles, probably noticing the look on my face. "I just can't wrap my head around... the fact that... you're Niall."

I raise my eyebrows as he continues laughing, and look around the room. "I'm gonna be offended until you give me an explanation."

"Oh, no," He quickly shakes his head, a smile still present on his face. "I didn't mean it in a bad way at all, it's just that... I was expecting dark hair and the height of an NBA player when I knocked on your door."

Nodding, I think back to the day of the frat party that she was at, and the guy who dragged her out of the house; he pretty much just described him. "But what do I know?" Harry continues, shrugging as he reaches for his soda he'd left on the table. "It's not like she's had more than one boyfriend. Wait, which one is mine?"

"What?" I say, referring to his first sentence as his eyes dart from one can of coke to the other.

"I don't know which coke is mi-"

"Take either one, I just opened mine," I tell him quickly, the corners of my lips twitching upwards as the information he's given me settles in. "She hasn't had more than one boyfriend?"

"Yeah, but I'll get to that," He says, taking a gulp from the can that I'm pretty sure is mine, but whatever. "Do you mind if I take my jacket off? It's kinda hot in here."

I blink at him a couple of times, and then shake my head quickly. He nods, leaving his drink next to mine as he takes his jacket off, and hands it to me. As I take it to the hanger in the hallway, I ignore the fact that our jackets are identical; only his is blue, and mine is green.

When I return to my previous seat, Harry looks up at me and, well, that's all he's doing. That wouldn't be anything awkward if he had at least looked away when our eyes met; so I'm feeling a little awkward again when his eyes stay on my face for another long few seconds. I see that weirdness runs in the family as well.

"She talks about you a lot," He says, out of the blue, and casually looks away at the TV.

"Does she?" I smirk; I've already been told that by Natasha, and hearing it again definitely feels nice. Especially at times when I'm pissed at her. "Her best friend told me."

"Yeah, well," Harry shrugs again, sitting up. "That's kind of why I asked if I could come in."

"What do you mean?" I stammer – so far I'm not sure if I prefer when he's laughing or being serious; either one makes me anxious.

"I mean... if you were just any guy, I'd be on my way home right now," He starts explaining, for once sounding awkward. "But... from the way that she talks about you... I can tell that you're not just any guy." He looks around, his eyes a little wide and his face concentrated. "You know what I'm trying to say, right?"

"Right," I say with a smile, and he sighs, presumably in relief. I take that he's not used to having these conversations. "What does she say about me?"

Harry sighs again, taking another sip of his drink before answering me – I feel like he should have asked for alcohol when he knew he'd be having this talk. "It's not what she says, it's... it's how she looks when she says it."

I glance at the ground as I try figuring out what the hell he means by that, but I end up looking at him with a puzzled expression. "Well... how does she look?"

He narrows his eyes at me, pursing his lips as he obviously tries thinking of the perfect word. "Alive."

I raise my brows again, another smile hinting on my lips. "Alive?"

"Yeah," He says slowly, but sure of his words. "Whether she's talking about how annoying you are or all the dumb things that you say, she always looks, and sounds so... yeah, alive. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. I don't remember the last time she was so full of life."

Harry stops talking and raises his eyebrows at me as I break into a grin; I quickly move my hand to my mouth but it's too late, he's already seen the effect his words have on me. "I'm sorry," I tell him quickly, managing to contain my smile at last. "She just rarely ever shows any emotion when she's with me, it's... it's hard to tell what she's thinking about."

"Yeah," He mumbles again, his tone a lot less excited now. "She's always been like that too."

I nod slowly as he shifts in his seat, his expression the most serious it's been so far. Which is making me a little nervous. "You know... you know how she's a little weird, right?"

Just a little, I think to myself as I nod again, making him lick his lips. "Well, she's always been that way as well. And I really mean always. She's five years older than me, but our mom told me about the things she used to do as a kid."

"Okay," I mumble, subconsciously leaning forward a bit.

"Yeah, it first started when she was in kindergarten, or that's at least when our parents first noticed, anyway. Like, she'd always play by herself, and if some kid came to play with her, she'd just leave. And she never napped like all the other kids, she'd just stare at the ceiling, or stare at the ground, or stare at... something. And she never used colors for her drawings, everything was always black and white. And her clothes also had to be black and white, and she'd cry if our mom made her wear something pink or blue or whatever color that isn't black or white. And she'd keep crying until mom would let her wear what she wants."

I nod again, a little lost as Harry counts all the little things about his sister. But I can really confirm that last part, her obsession with black and white had started quite some time ago.

"That's as far as it goes for her weirdness." Harry pauses, a cautious look on his face. "And then you have her ingenuity."

I blink a couple of times, taking a split second to remember what that word means. "Really? She's-"

"A bloody genius, yeah," He chuckles, a proud smile on his face. "She learned to play chess when she was barely four, she could speak fluent French at five, she could play the theremin when she was eight, and she won the national spelling bee when she was twelve. Barely a year after we've moved here."

Pretty much everything that he'd told me leaves my head after his last sentence. "Wait," I stop him for the first time, "What do you mean... after you've moved here?"

Harry grins, giving me that dimpled smile that is too big of a reminder of her. "We're English," He tells me, reaching over to smack my leg, making me jerk in my seat. "We moved here with our mom when she was eleven, and I was six. I barely remember anything from when we lived in England."

He pauses for a few second, probably being able to tell that I need a minute to grasp everything. "Okay," I say eventually, causing him to shift in his seat so his body is facing mine. "What's a theremin and why'd you move to America?"

My first question made him smile, though my other one made him press his lips together and his expression change slightly. Touchy subject? "Well," He starts, glancing at the TV. "The theremin is an instrument- a musical instrument that you can play without making any physical contact with it."

I blink at him, "How the hell can you play an instrument without touching it?"

"It-it has these antennas and I don't know, they can feel your hands or something. It's creepy," He concludes with a frown. "And the reason we moved here... well, um, our parents got divorced when she was ten, and I was five. In the meantime, our mom started seeing this guy from Rockford, then they got married a few months after her divorce, and she moved there with him. And our dad gave her full custody of us, so we moved there a little over a year later."

I nod, looking down at my hands. He doesn't sound bothered by having to explain that to me, but I still feel the need to apologize. "I'm sorry. You know, for your parents." I frown; that definitely has something to do with the way his sister is now.

Harry nods, a sad smile on his lips. "You know why they got divorced?" Well there's a question I wasn't expecting. "Our dad wanted to get her exorcised."

I widen my eyes slightly, as he casually reaches for his soda. "What, he wanted to get Ang-" I stop in the middle of my sentence, squeezing my eyes shut at the name I'd almost said; it's definitely gonna take me a while to get used to not using it.

"Yeah," Harry continues, aware of what I'd wanted to say. "Angel. He suggested they take her to a rabbi, to see what he can do about her."

I almost want to ask him why a rabbi?, until I remember her telling me she's Jewish; so that obviously means Harry is too. "Well... did they?"

"Of course not," He scowls. "There was no way on Earth our mom would allow something like that. She even thought he was joking, but he kept pushing it, which lead to them fighting, and... it took them two years, but eventually they signed the divorce papers."

I nod again, putting the pieces of the puzzle together; so they got divorced when she was ten... and if it took them two years to do it, it means that her father wanted to do this to her when she was eight. Eight.

Eight. She was a child and her own father thought she was possessed by demons. If this was an episode of Supernatural, I wouldn't feel as disturbed as I do. "I don't- I'm so sorry."

"It's not your-"

"No," I shake my head, interrupting Harry and making him look away from the TV, and at me. "The last time I saw her I told her I never wanted to see her face again, because she lied about her name and she told me that I have no idea what kind of life she has, and I got pissed off because she never tells me about her life and-and how was I supposed to know it's this bad?"

To my complete surprise, Harry throws his head back in laughter; and I've just noticed that I'd said all of that in under twenty seconds. "God, I'd punch you if I didn't feel for you," He tells me with a grin, once he's done laughing at me. That's another thing the two of them have in common – they both like to laugh at me. "If it makes you feel any better, only a few people know her real name."

I pull my lips between my teeth for a second, thinking about that. "Yeah, but... why wasn't I one of those people?"

His smile slowly disappears as he sighs; here comes another touchy subject. "She probably hasn't told you, but she had this friend. They were really close and-"

"Allison?" I interject, and Harry raises his eyebrows in a surprised manner. "I saw the picture in her apartment and she told me about her."

He blinks at me a few times, still surprised that I know about this part of her life. "Yeah, Allison... you know, with her mother being a workaholic, and her step-dad who turned into an alcoholic, and her brother, who was still basically a child..."

He trails off, lacing his fingers together and keeping his eyes on his hands for a few moments. Yep, definitely a touchy subject. "Allison was the only person she could rely on. The only stable person in her life, who wasn't even that stable," He frowns and shakes his head. "I mean, the first few years of their friendship were normal, and... then she became suicidal, God knows why. I know that Angel saved her probably a dozen of times, before she went to a summer camp and Allison used that as an opportunity to finally end her life. That's why she didn't tell you her name, since Allison's death, she's barely trusted anyone."

"Why did you call her Angel?" I cut in, and he looks up at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"What?"

"You just called your sister Angel."

"Because it angers me," He spits, making me lean backwards, away from him. "And I want to be angry at her."

And yet another touchy subject. "Why would you want to be angry with your sister?"

Harry sighs, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head. "She just... completely shut off from the world, when that happened. You know how I told you that she liked doing everything alone? Well, that was nothing compared to what she was like after Allison's death. I was afraid she'd commit too."

I gulp at his words, genuinely scared of what he'd tell me next; while he didn't seem that upset about it at all. "Did she... you know, did she try or..?"

"No," He mumbles, placing his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "She ran away from home."

I widen my eyes again; how could he be so casual while I was practically jumping out of my skin?! "What?"

"And that was partly our mom's fault," He continued, as if he didn't just tell me something that made me feel like I'd faint. "One night, she was going down the hallway to get some dinner, and she heard our mom talking to our dad over the phone, they were fighting about alimony. Apparently, dad had started this company that was doing really well, so mom wanted a bigger alimony. And he disagreed with her, which led to them fighting, and him saying 'none of this would have happened if you didn't ask for a divorce' and mom saying 'none of this would have happened if you didn't want to get your daughter exorcised'."

"And she heard her," I finish for him, rolling my eyes and throwing my head back in slight frustration as Harry nods. I place my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands; did I tell him that I'm sorry about leaving her? Because it's nothing compared to how sorry I am now. Literally, all I want to do at this moment is march to her apartment and knock her door down and kiss her until everything is okay again.

"Next thing I know, my seventeen year old sister is marching out the back door with nothing but a backpack. And she was crying, so hard," He continues, trying to keep the angry expression on his face, but I'd be an idiot if I couldn't tell that all of this saddens him too. "Last thing she told me was to tell mom and Roger not to look for her, and that she'd be okay."

Roger, probably their step-dad. "And... did you guys look for her?"

"Yeah, but we were a little too late." That doesn't sound good at all. "Mom was on the phone with dad for another hour, so I was the only one who knew at the moment. And I was twelve, what could I have done?"

He looks upset now, probably because there really wasn't anything that he could do about it. "So... by the time that mom got off the phone and I could finally tell her what happened, she was already on her way to Chicago. That's why I want to be angry at her."

I raise my brows, and slowly point at my floor. "H-here? She went here?"

"Well I told you we lived in Rockford," He tells me with a sigh. "Mom still lives there, I moved here a couple of months ago for university, that was the first time I saw her since she ran away. Anyway," He continues when he notices my freaked out face. "Mom immediately called the police, and they searched for her for a week, before she called us. Well, she called me."

I blink a few times again, by now almost completely lost. "She ran away from home and then she called you?"

"Yes, to tell me to stop with the search," He tells me with a look of disbelief in his eyes. "I had to put her on speaker so mom would hear that it's her and that she's okay. We fought with her, mom started crying, then I started crying, but a few days later we called the police to... tell them to stop the search."

"You actually did that?" I ask with a frown.

"Yeah, because loca Styles promised she'd call me every once in a while," He rolls his eyes, "But only if mom isn't there, she didn't want to talk to our mom or listen to her. And of course, mom was always there, just... listening to her and crying quietly, while I talked to the lunatic."

"What about your step-dad?"

"Oh, they were separated at the time, because of his alcoholism. I don't think he even knew what she did. And after her 18th birthday, we told him she moved to Chicago, so he wouldn't worry."

"I don't get it," I shake my head, earning a surprised look from Harry. "Why didn't you go look for her in Chicago?"

"Because we had no idea she was in Chicago!" He says loudly, as if stating the obvious. "She called every few months, to tell me that she's okay, she has enough money and food and where to stay, but she never told me where she was."

The bitter laugh at the end of his sentence surprises me a little. "And that's where he joins the story."

I look around, trying to remember if I should know who 'he' is but failing. "Who's 'he'?"

"Craig," Harry tells me, his tone a pitch higher as he looks around, furiously shaking his leg. "Craig Gaston."

"And... what about him?"

"Tell me," He begins, turning to me again with his eyes narrowed. Oh boy. "Were you ever at her place really late? Have you ever had a guy catch you with her, or at least knock on the door while you're there?"

I start nodding slowly when he's halfway through his questions, remembering the night when we first kissed; he just about nailed it. "Yeah, we heard knocking and-"

"Yeah," Harry cut me off quietly, "It was him. It's all him."

It's all him. What is that even supposed to mean? I don't think I've had an encounter with this Craig Gaston other than that one time when he knocked on the-

Wait.

It's all him.

All him.

If it's all him, then... that means it was him the night that we met, the 'guy dressed in all black'. He's the owner of the club she works at, it was him that knocked, it was him that dragged her from the frat party, it was him that threatened to break my neck with his bare hands- but, who is he?

"Holy shit," I almost whimper as I slide from my seat on the arm of the couch, down to the cushions. I'm completely bewildered right now, but I have a feeling that only one more word from Harry will explain everything.

"Yeah," He tells me, while I sit in a fetal position and keep looking straight ahead of myself. "You wonder how she had food and money when she ran from home with just a backpack? He found her. He saved her."

"He's her first boyfriend," I finish his sentence; I don't even how I've realized that.

"Her only boyfriend," He adds. "Who's now a mentally ill sadist that likes having complete control over my sister's life."

I close my eyes at the word sadist; if he's really like that, then... those bruises she had that day... the limping-

"Oh my God," I mutter, placing my hands over my face again. No wonder she didn't tell me about her life. If I'd known it was something like this, I would have never forced her to tell me, or get angry when she refused to. If I'd known it was something like this, I would have rather not known about it. "But... why would she be with someone who's like... that?"

"Well, apparently, he wasn't like that in the beginning. The first two years were normal, but after she turned 19 he became... I don't know, paranoid. I'm not kidding when I say that he's literally mentally sick," Harry says, taking his soda from the table. "Nothing would make me happier than seeing the monster behind bars."

"Then why..." I almost choke out, not realizing how dry my mouth really is until now. "Why didn't you report him or-"

"Because I've tried and he knows me," Harry cuts me off, already knowing what I was to say. "He knows what I'd do for my sister. But on the other side, I've seen him at his wildest, I've seen what he's capable of. And I have no doubt that he'd do exactly what he told me he'd do if I ever tried to report him to the police again."

I gulp again; I can only imagine what he'd said to Harry. "So... what now?"

"Now..." I feel the couch shift, meaning he'd turned to me, while I'm staring right through the TV. "Now I'm gonna need your help to make him disappear."

"What?" I shout, widening my eyes at Harry. "You want me to kill him?!"

"No!" He shouts back, "But I need you to do something about it, because I can't. He'll... do something if I'm involved."

I decide not to ask what that 'something' is, because I know I'll chicken out if I do. "Okay, but... how will he know you're not involved?"

"Because he doesn't allow her to spend any time with me," He tells me, his expression sad all over again. "I'm not even supposed to know about his 'problem'. She only picks me up from school sometimes, behind his back. If he knew about it he'd... do something."

He gulps and glances at the ceiling, before looking at me again. "He banned me from the club he forces her to work at, he made her-"

"That's why she 'dances'?" I cut him off with a frown. "Because he forces her to do it?"

Harry licks his lips, giving me a skeptical look. "Has she ever told you that she's interested in neuroscience?" I nod at his question and he continues, "Why do you think someone who's interested in neuroscience would willingly undress for strangers?"

And everything makes sense now. "Anyhow," Harry continues, after I keep quiet, "I-I really need your help, because she's my sister and I love her and I'd do anything for her but I can't, okay?"

I nod quickly, "Yeah, I get it."

"And you care for her too, right?"

I'm pretty sure I'm in love with her. "I do."

Harry nods slowly, looking down at his hands. "I wouldn't ask you to get yourself in danger because of-"

"No," I interrupt him, sitting up so I'm facing him. "I want to."

He raises his eyebrows at me in complete shock, "You... you do?"

"I really do."

"Just so we're clear, I'm not forcing you-"

"Harry," I interrupt him again, a little louder this time. "I want to. I really, really want to help you with this."

Harry nods, more enthusiastically this time. "Okay... well, give me a few days and-and... I'll get back to you when I figure something out, yeah?"

I nod reassuringly, offering him a smile. He keeps staring at me for a few moments, making me feel the way I did when he first came here, before scooting closer to me and giving me an unexpected bear hug. "Woah-"

"Thank you," He mumbles against my shoulder, and I carefully place my hands on his shoulder blades. I get that we're playing a serious game of Batman and Robin, but even this is a little over the top.

"You can... count on me," I say through an awkward laugh, but I definitely mean it. Harry pulls away and pulls his phone out of his jeans, handing it to me.

"Give me your number so we can stay in touch." I nod and type in my number, pressing the call button so I'd have his number too. "Okay," He says a minute later, "Good. I'm-I'm gonna go now, I've already wasted enough of your time."

"Oh, no," I say as he stands up and walks to the hallway, me following him. "This definitely wasn't-"

"Don't worry," He cuts me off while putting his jacket on, "I'll make you muffins as a thank you. Or some kind of pie. What pastries do you like?"

I start blinking at him when I notice the serious look on his face. "Are we seriously having this conversation after that conversation?"

"Look, some guys are good at sports, others are good at school... I'm good in the kitchen," He explains, his expression remaining serious. "And I'm not gonna hide that."

I nod slowly, not really knowing what to say. "Ever thought of getting a job in a bakery?"

Harry snorts as he opens the door to let himself out, "How do you think I can afford paying rent?" He asks, finally making me laugh. I remember thinking of getting a roommate earlier; he just might be the perfect candidate for that.

"Oh, and another thing," Harry turns around to face me. "The reason she told you you'd forgotten your shirt at her place, is so that you'd go there and she could make up for lying to you. She only told me to give you your shirt and tell you to go see her, she's no idea that you know her life story."

I nod again; everything makes even more sense. "Otherwise she'd kill me, you know what I mean?"

I chuckle and shrug because, yeah, she's definitely capable of killing someone. "So... I'm gonna do what I was originally supposed to do, and tell you to go see her. Go see her." Harry smiles as I laugh again, "She's already planned something, now all you have to do is... well, go see her."

"Will do," I smile at him again, although my expression freezes when he takes a step closer to me to give me another hug; there's one thing they don't have in common – Harry likes to hug.

"Thanks again," He tells me as he pulls away, "For everything."

"I haven't even done anything yet."

"You've already done enough," He grins at me and starts walking backwards, before offering me a nod and turning around to walk away. I give him a small wave, and I can't help but feel nauseous about the next few days.

*******

man i have no idea what to think of this. you might have to read it twice to understand everything idk. it's five in the morning and i would have probably done a better job if i wrote the part during the day but please, tell me what you think of it anyway?

EDIT: this is only like 60% of everything. you'll find out the rest throughout the story :D

and you'll find out her name in the next chapter, i know how frustrating this probably is hehe :)

and i know i've been doing this a lot (but you guys don't seem to have a problem with it) buuuuuuuut how about 250 comments for another early update? :) i love you all x