Nick Grimshaw, 27 - Mercury. Wanted for stealing, drug dealing and money laundering. "The Leader."

Soooo I know I haven't updated in 2 years, but I had writer's block for this story and I worked on others which you can check out :)

Here is Part 5, Day 4, and I am happy to announce that I will update this story once every week/two weeks because I have new ideas ! Also, I'm working on the 2nd part of "You Get Me Dizzy", so let me know what you think of that story as well :D

Happy reading, and don't forget to leave a review at the end!

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Previously on chapter 4:

His blue eyes are staring right into Harry's soul now, sadness replaced with mischief, emptiness still there.

"You thought I'd kiss you?"

Harry's eyes fall down to Louis' lips. "I was hoping you would."

"I'm literally keeping you hostage and you want to kiss me? That's fucked up." Louis says, but doesn't do anything to put some distance between them.

"You've been nice to me."

"Under the circumstances."

Harry nods. "Yeah."

"Why'd you think I'd kiss you though?"

Louis' breath smells like cigarettes and mint, it's fucking...ugh.

"Well, you're standing pretty close to me right now, literally talking into my mouth." Harry argues, placing a hand on Louis' hip that he hopes would go unnoticed.

It's doesn't go unnoticed though, because Louis' eyes drift down there for a second. When he looks up, Harry knows he's got five more seconds until he'll kiss him.

"No I'm not." comes Louis' weak and way too late retort.

"Yeah you are." Harry childishly answers, before he smiles and pulls Louis in by the waist.

Their lips collide and Louis' tongue finds its way into his mouth immediately, sending Harry's entire body into hyperventilation. Louis' lips are soft and rough at the same time, working in sync with Harry's own, like they've been meaning to do that for a long time.

Harry cups Louis' face with his other hand to deepen their kiss and he can feel Louis smiling into it, so he smiles too, which kind of puts a strain on it, but it doesn't matter.

Louis puts his other arm around Harry's shoulders and pulls him towards him until he hits the wall with his back. It's too much, and Harry can't believe it's happening but he's not one to ask questions when there's a much more important task at hand.

The tension shifts when Louis grabs the curls at Harry's neck, which makes Harry groan into his mouth.

Louis pulls back then, wiping his mouth and steps away from Harry.

"Shit, we shouldn't have done this." Louis mutters more to himself than anything.

"And yet..." Harry says, trying to figure out why the fuck he's freaking out now.

"I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have." Louis tells him.

"It's fine, I'm not a child or anything you know." Harry sarcastically says and crosses his arms as he watches Louis run a hand through his hair.

"I know, it's not that-"

"And I'm not going to expect any special treatment."

Louis shakes his head. "It's not that, fuck. There are rules to this and I already broke like ten of them-"

"Is she watching right now or what?"

"Nevermind. Get some sleep. Fuck, okay. Get some sleep. I'll come over in the morning."

Harry watches him make a 360 turn and then shake his head again, before he leaves, letting the vault door slam shut behind himself.

-------

Day 4 – 71 hours into the heist (Sunday, 23rd, 10:50am)

Louis watches from the stairs as Nick and Hailee collect the plastic cups and the wrappers from the hostages after breakfast. His mind drifts to what happened not even nine hours ago, when he kissed Harry even though the Chemist clearly specified not to get involved with any hostages.

"Time to go to the bathroom."

He hasn't checked up on Harry since last night when he impulsively kissed him like there was no tomorrow, even though in this place everything feels like it's never going to end.

He knows he has to check up on Harry because the boy has a fucking open leg wound that needs to be treated and sanitized three times a day to avoid infections, but Nick parading around and checking up on everything and everyone makes it really fucking hard.

Three hours later it's finally time for his sleeping break and he knows he only has four hours to get some sleep and to check up on Harry, so he thinks about completely giving up on sleep and finding a way to get Harry into the main office without anyone seeing them.

Hailee is at the top of the stairs, walking in circles and watching some of the hostages while Nick and Liam are on the roof, getting some fresh air with the other hostages.

He walks up the stairs towards her and leans in close. "I need to get Styles to the shower now and get him some food."

She nods, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth, nodding. "I can cover you. You've got your break now anyway, right?"

Louis nods in response and pats her on the shoulder as he disappears down the hallway towards the stairs that lead to the vaults.

The hallway with the vaults is dark and he can hear Eleanor's electronic saw in one of the vaults, digging through the hard concrete as she tries to build the escape tunnel in time.

The door to Harry's vault opens with a loud thud and when he enters, he sees the boy peacefully sleeping with a few stacks of money as a pillow. Harry's bare chest is showing, rising every few seconds as he breathes, and Louis tries not to stare as he makes his way towards him to wake him up.

"Hey, Styles." He says and then waits for a few seconds. He shakes him, but Harry still doesn't wake up. He panics for a moment, but then Harry blinks his eyes open.

"I have to get you upstairs. Shower. Sanitize. The lot."

Harry groans and helps himself into a sitting position. "I'm hungry."

Louis ignores him as he helps him up, waits for Harry to zip up his suit and then holds onto his bicep as they walk to the door of the vault.

The stairs seem endless for Harry to climb, but they make it to Hailee eventually, who tells him that Nick is currently downstairs with the hostages, since it's his turn to watch them.

The office is empty, so Louis locks the door and points to the bathroom. "Get showered, brush your teeth. I'll get you some food."

Harry nods and does exactly as told.

As soon as the shower turns on, Louis grabs the phone and dials The Chemist's number. She picks up on the first ring.

"It's me." Louis says and looks into the camera. "I know you've seen Harry taking a shower here yesterday and you haven't said anything. He's been shot."

"By whom?"

She sounds calmer than Louis anticipated.

"Himself."

"Did he-"

"No, he didn't try to kill himself. N-Mercury is losing his shit. The kid had a phone, and Mercury ordered me to kill him. I didn't want to, but the kid panicked and shot himself in the leg to make it look like I did."

"So Mercury's getting out of hand?"

"Yeah. You need to talk to him. He's chatting shit about instilling fear in the hostages as a form of respect, I don't know. He has leader fantasies."

The Chemist snorts and Louis is surprised to hear her in a good mood.

"I'll talk to him. Do not hurt Harry. You know the rules."

"It's not me who doesn't know them."

"Call a meeting in the office in two hours. We'll talk."

The line goes dead after that, so Louis puts the phone down and goes to the closet to get some food for Harry. He's sitting on the couch when Harry comes out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, hair dripping wet.

"The fuck." Is all Louis can say when he sees him.

"What?"

"Do you think you're in your own home or what? Where's your suit?"

"It stinks man. I just want to...I don't know, feel free."

Louis doesn't say anything to that. He thinks about making a comment but chooses to shut up and point to the table instead.

"There's food for you there."

Harry grabs the sandwich from the table and goes to sit down on the couch next to Louis, who occupies himself by counting the tiles on the ceiling.

"So, who were you talking to on the phone?"

Louis' head snaps back down. "What?"

"While I was showering. You talked to someone on the phone. Was it that woman?"

"Just eat your sandwich."

Harry pouts. "Oh, come on. I'm staring at walls and money all day, at least give me a little bit of entertainment. Or a book."

Louis sighs. "Had to talk to her about Mercury."

"He's a dick."

Louis smiles. "Yeah."

"She must've had a reason to put him in charge though."

"He's the oldest."

"How do you know?"

"He looks the oldest." Louis says, not giving away the fact that he snooped through everyone's files and knows their birthdates.

"True." Harry agrees. "Didn't think about it before."

Louis goes back to tile counting until Harry speaks up again while munching on his sandwich.

"I thought you were the oldest."

Louis looks at him. "I feel attacked."

"Not because you look old!" Harry says, putting his hands up in defense. "It's just that, I don't know. The way you act is...mature. Like. I don't know."

"Eat your sandwich." Louis concludes and crosses his ankles, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes.

He listens to Harry chewing and almost slips into a state of mind where he reevaluates all his life choices, but then realizes where he is and what he's doing, so he opens his eyes and makes a mental note to never close them in this place unless he's alone.

"You're literally in a towel." He observes, staring at Harry's chest for a moment too long.

"And you're in a red suit." Harry tries to be clever.

"Put your suit on."

"Why?"

Louis sighs. "I have to get you back to the vault."

"Nooo, please don't. I'm bored."

"I have to."

"Don't you have a sleeping break or something?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "So what if I did?"

"You could let me sit here while you sleep. And I promise I won't watch you in a creepy way."

"No?" Louis asks, smirk playing on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Then what would you do while I take a two-hour nap?"

"I would start reading the books in here."

"This used to be the office of the head accountant." Louis snorts. "What are you going to read? Bank statements?"

Harry shrugs. "At this point, I'll even read the manual for the printer."

"Funny." Louis states. "But I don't have a break, so you have to get back."

"Yes you do."

"And how would you know that?"

"Something you said earlier."

Louis makes a face. "What? It was all hypothetical."

"Yeah, until you said 'while I take a two-hour nap'. Not only did you refer to the present when you said it, but you also said 'two-hour' and that's quite specific." Harry rambles.

Louis watches him with a poker face.

"I mean-yes." Harry adds, just so he can fill the awkward silence.

Finally, Louis makes an annoyed face. "Fine."

Harry smiles from ear to ear.

"But if you even try to take my gun or do something stupid, I will kill you."

Harry cocks his head. "I thought the rule was not to kill any hostages."

Louis' expression turns serious. "How do you-why do you think that?"

"It's what you said to Mercury when he wanted to kill me."

"Fuck." Louis sighs and goes over to pull out the couch so he can sleep on it. "You're too smart for your own good."

Harry smiles as he watches Louis place a pillow and a blanket on the extended couch before sitting down on it.

"Stop smiling, it wasn't really meant as a compliment."

Harry shrugs, but his words get stuck in his throat as soon as Louis unzips his suit and takes the upper part off. He's never been so shocked in his life. Ever.

Starting from under the waistline, there are tattoos (mostly black) going up his body, on his chest, both of his arms, all the way up to his neck.

Harry doesn't even know how long he's been staring for, because there's just so many of them and there's not enough time.

"What?"

Louis' words bring him back to his senses.

"Huh?"

"You were staring." Louis says and lays down on the couch.

"Do you want me to close the drapes?" Harry asks.

Louis closes his eyes and tries to get into a more comfortable position.

"Yeah. And lock the door. And put a suit on."

Harry walks over to the door, turns the key so it's locked, and then goes to close the drapes.

Then everything is silent. And for a moment, Harry forgets that he's actually in a heist, a dangerous situation, that there are over sixty more people downstairs forced to sleep on the floor and not knowing when this is all going to be over.

"Don't even think about grabbing a phone, I swear." He hears Louis, and then realizes that he zoned out facing the phone wall.

"I'm not. Pinky promise." Harry says, turning to face Louis, who's now sitting up and looking at him. He doesn't look convinced.

"I don't break pinky promises." Harry adds and holds up his little right finger.

Louis makes a face as Harry extends his arm.

"What am I supposed to do with this? Cut it off if you break the promise?"

"NO. You're- oh my god, you're supposed to link your pinky with mine and then it's like a bond."

Louis raises his pinky. "Okay."

They intertwine them and Louis adds. "But if you try anything and break the promise, I will cut your finger off."

"What?"

Louis takes his hand back. "We pinky promised, you agreed." He smirks and then lays back down and closes his eyes.

Harry shakes his head and after a few seconds, he turns around and walks over to the bookshelves. There's a whole wall full of shelves filled with books, and Harry doesn't even know where to start.

Maybe by putting his jumpsuit on.

***

Day 4 – 72 hours into the heist (Sunday, 23rd, 12:12pm)

Harry sighs and slumps down on the desk chair. He just spent the past thirty minutes looking through the shelves to find something interesting to read, but literally every single book was about financial legislation and laws and everything Harry is trying to get away from.

He looks around the desk, and besides the phone Louis just talked on and a few scribbled notes, before he turns to the desk drawers. The one on the right contains pens and office supplies, so besides drawing something, Harry can't do anything with it.

He tries opening the left drawer, but it's locked. He frowns and tries to pull at it again.

"It doesn't even have a fucking lock." Harry mutters to himself before pulling at the knob even harder. It budges a little, so Harry knows it has to get opened somehow.

Ten minutes later Harry's still trying to get the drawer open, just because it's starting to nag him. He places a foot against the desk and pulls even harder, until it eventually snaps and creaks open, just enough for Harry to see inside.

"Fuck." He sighs when he sees more pens.

He tries to cross his legs and give up, but accidentally bumps his knee against the underside of the drawer and feels it move.

Harry throws a look in Louis' direction, who seems to be completely asleep, so he gets on his knees under the desk and pushes at the underside of the drawer. It comes loose and a notebook falls out. He checks that there's nothing left in the drawer, before he tries to see if the one on the right is also used to hide things. It isn't.

He picks up the notebook and sits back down at the desk. It's made out of leather and the writing in there looks old.

As soon as he opens it and looks through it, he realizes that it's probably the accountant's notebook, because it's just dates and appointments and payments from start to finish, dated from 2012 to 2014.

Is Harry about to give up and read some random accounting notebook from four years ago just so he won't die of boredom? Yes.

He settles back into the chair and stares at it.

There are things like 20.04.2012/1200 – meet MT; 20.04.2012.1540 – call back info; 21.04.2012 – 5000 transfer!

Harry flips through the pages, looking at 31.10.2012 just to see what an accountant does on Halloween.

31.10.2012/1600 – date

31.10.2012/1930 – tower meeting

1. 11. 2012 – 5000 transfer

He checks Christmas.

24.12.2012 -family day

25.12.2012 – family day

26.12.2012- family day

27.12.2012 – 5000 transfer ! + date back to 21 bluebook

He checks the 21st of December, but there's nothing there. He remembers seeing a range of blue books on one of the shelves, so he stands up to retrieve it. They're all also leather-bound, but the Bank of England logo is on each of them, which means they're probably the official ones, not the personal agenda of the accountant.

He takes the one ranging for year 2012 out and goes all the way to 27 December 2012. There's nothing there so Harry checks 21 December 2012.

21.12.2012 – 49024- 5000 - other liabilities

Harry frowns and looks at the signature at the bottom of the page to look at the signature. It's that type of chaotic signature, where you can't even tell what the letters are, but you know it's a signature.

It's the same signature in the entire book, except for Simon Cowell's at the very end of the yearly report.

He sets the blue book down and goes back to flipping through the notebook. The fact that the accountant took some money from the Bank and put it into his own pocket isn't as exciting as it sounds.

He checks his own birthdate 01.02.2013, but there's nothing written there, so he goes to Halloween again. What he notices though, is that the accountant actually took about ten thousand pounds a month and booked it on the 1st and 21st of each month as other liabilities.

31.10.2013/1730 – date

31.10.2013/2030 – tower meeting w/ MT

1. 11. 2013 – 5000 transfer!

In comparison to 2012, November 2013 seems to have been quite a handful for the accountant, since he had at least five things to do on a daily basis. He moves on to Christmas.

21.12.2013 – 5000 transfer

22.12.2013 – cancel transfer

23.12.2013 – 70000 transfer

23.12.2013 – call check Donny

24.12.2013 – cleaning crew asap Donny

25.12.2013 – resolve! Call Him

26.12.2013 – family day + flowers for Mary

27.12.2013 – book 23 to 21 ext liabilities

"Woah." Harry breathes and takes out the blue book for 2013.

Sure enough, there's nothing booked from 23rd to 27th of December, but on the 21st there's a 5000 pound liability, and at the end of the day, written with another type of ink, there's a 70 thousand external liability that both the accountant, and Cowell at the end, signed for.

Maybe he had a good reason, like feeding his family or...I don't know. Harry tries to reason with himself, but then decides to close the books and put them back, since Louis is starting to come back to life and Harry's eyes hurt from so many numbers.

"What are you doing?" Louis asks and turns on his stomach to face Harry.

"Reading accounting sheets. Quite interesting." Harry sarcastically replies.

Louis sits up then and runs a hand through his hair, before he walks over to the bathroom and closes the door.

For a second, Harry thinks about an escape plan.

"Don't even think about it." comes Louis' voice from the bathroom.

Harry sighs and plops back down on the chair and starts spinning in it until he gets dizzy.

When Louis comes out of the shower, he's just wearing a towel, which isn't good for Harry's wellbeing. He's a nineteen-year-old who hasn't had any action in months and the only person he's been seeing on a regular basis is the extremely hot (and dangerous) robber with a thousand tattoos on his body.

Louis sits down on the couch after opening the minifridge Harry didn't even notice was there.

"Are you supposed to drink on your job?" Harry asks.

"Are you supposed to talk to people who have guns?" Louis retorts and takes a sip of his beer.

"Touché."

Harry spins around on his chair one more time before stopping to stare at Louis once again.

"What do your tattoos mean?"

Louis groans and turns his head to look at him. "They mean I wanted to get them."

"Stop being boring." Harry pouts and leans his head back against the chair with a groan. "I thought heists were supposed to be exciting."

"For the hostages? Not really. I think you're the only one out of all of them who isn't completely in the dark about what's going to happen to them."

"What's going to happen to them? To me?"

Louis rolls his eyes and wipes his mouth. "Nothing. But they don't know that."

"I think I've had a gun pointed at me more than-for fuck's sake; I've even been shot."

"You asked me to." Louis points out.

"Can I have a beer?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Fine."

Harry stands up from the desk and goes over to the mini fridge to get himself one, before choosing to sit down on the other side of the couch.

They drink in silence, before Harry suddenly opens his mouth again.

"Do you think that tattoos are self-injury?"

Louis stops with his beer mid-air and looks at him. "What?"

"When I got mine, my father asked me why I wanted to hurt myself."

"Your father is a rich dick."

Harry nods. "But then I thought, he might be sort of right, but he isn't aware of it."

Louis sighs. "Elaborate."

"Well, I got my first one on my ribs, which is one of the places it hurts most, to symbolize the fact that I wanted to be free. In a way, I think- I don't know how to explain it. I mean, I didn't want to hurt myself but the fact that there was something inside my mind that hurt made me want to...I don't know. I guess I wanted to have something there so it wouldn't hurt anymore."

Louis stares at him and Harry tries to figure out what he's thinking, but fails. So he decides to ask instead.

"What?"

"You may be right, I guess. I mean, on a subconscious level, I think most of the people who get tattoos because they mean something have gone through something that made them grow, and people sometimes grow from something that hurt them. And-" Louis stops.

"And what?"

"I don't think I know someone who has tattoos who hasn't gone through something rough."

Harry nods. "So, you agree with my theory."

"I guess."

Harry smiles.

"Do you feel free now?" Louis asks, turning to face Harry by placing a knee on the couch.

"I mean, I came here to give an interview because my father arranged it, so psychologically I didn't feel free. Then you guys came in with your guns and although I feel free in my head now, I'm not physically free. Funny huh."

It sounds way sadder than it did in Harry's head and Louis' eyes drift down to the couch.

"It's not- I don't mind it- I mean, I do mind being a hostage, but I think the effects of getting the job and having to work here until I die would've been far worse than being a hostage for a few days."

"That's... I don't even know man. I thought rich people were happy."

"Old rich people are. Rich people's kids usually aren't."

Louis cocks his head. "Maybe we should've just robbed your house instead."

"Ha ha. I don't think my father has more money than the bank. And we have alarms all over the lot."

"Good to know." Louis smirks.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Shut up."

"Make me." Louis says, mocking Harry's accent.

Harry looks at him for a second, then places a knee on the couch between Louis' legs and grabs the back of his head to kiss him. Louis pushes into it immediately, like he was waiting for it to happen and it finally did. He grabs Harry's hair at the nape of his neck and straddles him.

Harry smirks into the kiss and falls backwards against the armrest, pulling Louis completely over him so he's straddling his lower chest. He lifts his hips off the couch to bump them against Louis' crotch and the older guy lets out a stifled moan.

"Shit, don't do that." Louis breathes and pulls away from Harry's mouth.

Harry grabs into Louis' hips and pulls him down against himself, harder. Louis bites his lip and places a hand on Harry's chest.

"Why not?" Harry pouts, fingers slipping under the waistline of Louis' towel.

Louis makes a face. "Because we shouldn't- fuck." He groans and grabs both of Harry's hands with his own, stopping him from going further under the towel. "I didn't think you'd be this arrogant."

Harry cocks his head. "In what way am I arrogant?"

"Like...you know what you're doing." Louis says and places Harry's wrists over his head, still holding him down.

"What, you thought I'm a virgin or what?" Harry asks, thrusting his hips upwards to tease Louis.

"I don't know." Louis ponders, before he lowers his upper body to meet Harry's eyes, a few centimeters away from his face. "Maybe."

Harry lifts his chin to try and kiss him, so Louis lets him, without letting go of his wrists.

"If you want, I'll prove it to you." Harry whispers, trying to get his wrists out of Louis' grip.

"How will you prove it to me?" Louis asks, playing dumb. He sits up straight and lets Harry's wrists go.

Harry stares up at him for a moment, still not moving. Then he places both hands on either of Louis' knees.

"I think you know." Harry smirks and slowly starts moving his hands up Louis' thighs.

Louis looks down at Harry's hands, which come to a stop when they're gripping into his hips, thumbs pressed against Louis' pelvis.

"And I also think you'd like to know." Harry says and lets out a surprised moan when Louis grinds down against it. "Exactly."

He pulls Louis back down by the back of his neck, but before he can take off his towel as well, there's a loud knock on the door.

"Hydrogen, open the fucking door!" Oxygen yells from outside and for a second, neither Louis nor Harry react to it. The banging gets louder and more violent, before they also hear Iron's voice.

"Shit, fuck." Louis panics and stands up from the couch while trying to adjust himself in his pants. Harry looks at him for a moment, then at his own bulge, before he sighs and sits up on the couch.

"What now?" Louis asks, looking around.

"What's the problem?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "How do I explain you?"

Harry looks a bit offended. "What?"

"I mean, how am I supposed to explain what you're doing here?"

Harry shrugs and Louis shakes his head. He walks over to the door while still in a towel. "Who's there?"

"Oxygen and Iron."

Louis sighs and opens the door for the two of them to come in, followed by Zayn, who locks the door behind himself. All eyes fall on Harry, who at least had the decency to put the upper part of his suit back on, even though it isn't zipped.

"Turn on the TV." Oxygen says and grabs the remote herself. While she does that, Zayn places his hands on his hips and walks over to stand next to Louis.

"Why are you in a towel, man?" Zayn quietly asks, eyes drifting over to Harry, before they meet Louis'.

"Just came out of the shower." Louis shrugs and then goes back into the bathroom to put on the suit.

Harry catches Iron and Zinc exchange looks before they both look at him. He feels like he should say something, but then they both look back to the TV when Oxygen turns up the volume.

"Shit." Iron breathes and Harry finally focuses on the screen.

There's a photo of Mercury on the TV and the sentence: "SOCIOPATH ONE OF THE BOE 7"

"What is BOE 7?" Harry asks.

"The Bank of England Seven. It's what the press has come with." Oxygen says, crossing her arms. "Very unoriginal, to be honest."

"One of the seven people involved in robbing the Bank of England has been identified as Nicholas Grimshaw, 27. Police found his torched car abandoned in a field, six miles away from the Bank. Inside, they found remains of what they believe to be Blueprints of the Bank of England, alongside a detailed plan of how the heist would go down." The woman on the news says, before they show a photo of a piece of paper with some hours and locations written on it.

"He was set up." Louis tells the room after he comes out of the bathroom and sees the news. "The Chemist is aware of him getting out of control and is probably using this as leverage over him."

"Grimshaw's prints have also been matched to other unsolved cases and has long been suspected of killing his girlfriend two years ago."

"Is it true?" Harry asks the room, as if they're supposed to know everything about each other.

Oxygen shrugs. "I don't know, might be. Probably."

Louis is the only one in the room who suspects the Chemist of setting him up.

A few seconds later, someone tries the doorknob and then starts knocking violently.

"That would be him I guess." Zayn says and walks over to the door to unlock it.

Nick comes barging into the room, yelling and cussing.

"Which one of you idiots did it?" he screams and looks around. He goes completely silent when he sees Harry there, sitting on the couch. Then he turns to Louis, rage depicted on his face.

"I thought I told you to kill this kid!"

Louis crosses his arms over his chest as Iron goes over next to Nick, just in case he's going to try and start a physical fight.

"Yes, and then The Chemist told me not to."

"You went over my head?" Nick exclaims and steps forward, but Iron is quick to hold him back.

"No, Nicholas. I went to the head."

Nick makes a face. "I swear to God, Hydrogen, if I even get a whiff of who you really are, I will call the Daily Mail myself and tell them everything."

Louis throws his hands up in defense. "How is this my fault?"

"Because you ratted me out to the boss and she sent false information to the press to use it as leverage for me to behave in a certain way."

Louis raises his brows. Okay, so Nick isn't as stupid as he initially thought.

"Maybe what they're saying is true." Louis shrugs.

Nick is about to say something else, when the landline phone rings. Oxygen answers it, then gives it over to Nick. "It's for you."

Harry watches Nick take the phone from Oxygen, mutter a few 'uhuh' and 'yeah's, then hangs up. He turns to his accomplices. "You're in charge now." He says to Iron, trying to mask his anger but failing.

Louis exchanges looks with Zayn.

Nick turns to face Harry. "And what are we going to do about you? We can't let him go back with the other hostages, they're going to think we're weak."

"Well he can't stay in that vault forever." Oxygen says.

"I will die of boredom." Harry complains and Nick points at him.

"Don't be a smartass."

Harry raises his hands in defense and leans back into the couch.

"He can stay here." Iron decides. "With whomever is on break, they overlap anyway."

Harry nods. He wants to ask how long they plan on being in the bank but bites his lip.

"I'm not going to let him alone with you in here." Louis warns Nick, who rolls his eyes.

"Fine. I'll just take my breaks in another room. But leave the telly on, I want to know everything they're saying."

All of them look back to BBC Network, where they're now showing faces of Nick's potential victims.

"This is utter bullshit!" Nick yells and then struts out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The five of them remaining in the room look at each other in silence for a few moments before Louis breaks the silence. "I have to take my shift now. Whose break is it?"

Zayn raises his hand. "Mine. I can watch him."

Harry feels like he's a baby who has to be under 24-hour supervision. But then again, they don't have the guarantee that he won't try something if he's left alone.

"You sure you're going to be okay?" Iron asks Zayn. "Last time you had to watch him your identity got to the press."

Zayn looks over at Harry, who suddenly finds his shoes very interesting. "I'm sorry about that." He says.

Zayn nods to the three of them, signaling that he'll be alright, before taking his gun off his shoulder and placing it on the desk, followed by him sitting down on the chair behind the desk.

The TV is still on so they settle for watching it in silence.

"It's okay, you know."

Harry looks up at Zayn, surprised. "What?"

"That they know who I am now. Because of you."

"Uh...okay?"

Harry's confused.

"If I were you, I would've tried being the hero as well."

Harry's eyes meet the floor.

"But you know you can't win this. Not with Mercury- with Nick, being all angry and thinking he got screwed by the boss. He'll kill you. And we're not here to kill people."

Harry crosses his legs and leans back into the couch. It's easy to talk to Zayn.

"Why are you here then?"

Zayn cocks his head. "Ha ha."

"I mean, I already know you're here for money. Probably printing it, since it wouldn't have taken more than two days to get all the money from the vaults."

"You're a smart kid. But that isn't going to help you here."

Harry scratches the back of his neck. "Well, I'm sorry for...exposing you. You seem nice."

Zayn laughs. "We're all...nice. Except, well, you know."

They turn their heads back to the TV, and when Zayn finally decides that the news broadcast gets too repetitive, he switches to footie. Harry smiles. It's way better than the vault.

***

Day 4 – 83 hours into the heist (Sunday, 23rd, 11:33pm)

It's Silver's turn to watch him after the hostages have been given dinner, taken to the bathroom, and put to sleep. Harry didn't have to wait for everyone else to go to sleep to go to the bathroom this time, but being supervised by Iron for the past few hours made him feel weird, so he didn't dare to ask to go to the bathroom or have food. He didn't like the way Iron was looking at him; like he resented him for something Harry wasn't aware of.

Over the course of one day, he'd been watched by Louis, then by Zayn (who fell asleep one hour into his break and woke up four hours later), followed by Oxygen (who also fell asleep) and finally, Iron, who was supposed to be with him the whole night while also taking his break.

Out of all of them, Oxygen was definitely his favorite (after Louis, of course, but that's not for anyone to know), because she would make really stupid jokes and they'd watch Cartoon Network while she gave him some of her desert.

Now she left, leaving him alone with Iron for the night. Iron, who hasn't moved from the chair behind the desk ever since he entered the room, AK-47 sitting on the desk pointing in Harry's direction. Harry would've probably been more shaken if he didn't have that talk with Zayn, who told him that they weren't here to kill people.

He goes to the bathroom after asking permission, and then asks Iron where he would be able to sleep.

"Just take the couch." Iron says.

"You sure?" Harry asks, but lays down on it anyway. He wants to ask whether it's a fold out couch, but the chances of Iron wanting to sleep next to him would probably be 0%.

"I'm sure."

The TV is still on, back on BBC news, so Harry rests his head against the armrest facing the telly, ready to fall asleep any minute now. After midnight, the news anchor changes, still reporting on the heist and the fact that they knew two out of seven identities now.

Harry's about to close his eyes when the subject in the news changes.

"Five years since boy kills family of seven." Is written on the screen. Harry tries to listen. It's the first time in ten hours when the news talks about anything else other than Bank of England.

"Louis William Tomlinson is still on the run after killing his entire family five years ago today." The anchor says and Harry remembers seeing this in the news and all the newspapers for two years after it actually happened.

"Charlotte Tomlinson, the only survivor, is asking for information about Louis' whereabouts, and the police is offering a reward of 100.000 pounds for any information leading to an arrest."

They show a picture of the guy when he was little, with the tag "last picture taken in 2012, 15 years old". The guy has piercing blue eyes and is smiling at the camera, his hair gelled up in spikes as he throws up the peace sign next to some friends, whose faces have been blurred out.

Harry frowns and sits up on the couch so he can get a closer look at the picture. The face features look familiar, but he can't place them. He looks over at Iron, who is watching him instead of the TV.

"What a case." Harry says. "I remember seeing it in the papers. My father even talked about it at one point before the case went cold."

He's just trying to make conversation.

"Tomlinson is believed to be somewhere in Europe, with several sightings being reported each year, but so far CPS has not been able to apprehend him."

"Do you think he's still in England?" Harry asks.

"If he was, the Crown Prosecution Service would have definitely gotten him." Iron ponders.

"Or, maybe he's smart and is hiding in plain sight."

"Do you think he did it?" Iron asks, looking at Harry.

"Honestly? I don't know, not really. I don't think a fifteen-year-old boy just wakes up one day and kills his entire family without problem. Look how skinny the boy is. No way."

Iron cocks his head, still not looking at the screen.

"As we do every year, the CPS profiler has released a picture of how Tomlinson would look like today."

Harry looks back at the screen. There's a computer image slowly being rotated to show his features. Harry squints. The nose, the curve of his lips and the way the blue eyes are placed and looking straight at him make him look familiar.

There's something missing though, and he can't quite place it. Then, the neck and the shoulders disappear from the picture and they rotate head at a 180 degree angle.

Oh fuck.

"Shit." He whispers. Now that he only sees the face, the nose, his cheekbones, without any neck skin or otherwise, he knows. The tattoos were missing.

It's Louis.

For a moment, he feels like he's alone in the world, like the room isn't there because it's dark anyway, but then they show a picture of the house Louis used to live in and he remembers Iron is there.

Harry looks at him. He doesn't really seem like he figured it out. Or maybe he knows.

Harry looks back at the TV. Another picture of how Louis would potentially look like, and details such as possible height, weight, eye color and hair color are listed on the screen.

Harry's still staring at the fifteen-year-old pictured with his family on the screen.

"Tomlinson would also be turning 21 today. Photos and details can be found on the CPS website and our website as well. Any information is welcomed and taken seriously."

Harry stops listening after that and continues staring at the screen. His throat feels clogged up at the thought that on his sixteenth birthday, Louis' entire family was killed. And now, five years later, people still think of him as one of the most deranged people the country has ever seen.

---

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