Chapter Text
PRESENT DAY — LOUIS
They pull up to the hospital parking garage, and that’s when the nerves hit Louis. He must have been riding on adrenaline or determination until the moment Zayn took his ticket from the parking attendant.
There was a small crowd of reporters waiting on the lawn, very likely there for the same person they are.
Louis finds Harry’s hand and squeezes it almost entirely for his own comfort.
To be fair, Louis does have more to lose from this. Even though Annie seems to not have incriminated Louis or Niall, Louis at the very least is a person of interest. If he gets caught before they can get to Annie, her parents, and her medical team, then Annie’s treatment might get delayed indefinitely.
Zayn finds a parking spot near the top, and, thankfully due to the winter, they are able to hide under floppy hoods to obscure their faces as they sneak in a service entrance left open for them by someone in the rescue network.
He doesn’t let go of Harry’s hand as Zayn leads them through back halls and stairwells.
This morning, they’d gone over the plan, just the three of them, after breakfast. Sam had blown up on Liam and Harry regarding the sleeping arrangements, and Liam had used his alpha tone on him before he physically hurt someone. Which led to a meltdown that Liam had to attend to privately with Sam.
Louis doesn’t envy that situation one bit. Though, he can’t say his and Harry’s… relationship… is any clearer. He’s almost positive that at least on Harry’s end, the stress and circumstances have influenced what he thinks of Louis. He’s a half-breed, working-class, unalpha of a queer man with nothing but a walking target on his back to offer. Harry’s probably just looking for something familiar to latch onto after leaving his world behind.
But that was something to worry about after they’ve got Annie’s treatment taken care of. After that, he can get charged with kidnapping, with trespassing, with whatever they want, as long as Annie, Harry, and Niall are healthy and safe, he doesn’t care.
Apparently, a nurse in the hospital on Annie’s floor works with the network often. She agrees to sneak them into Annie’s room after concocting a reason for everyone else to leave the room.
She meets them in the designated stairwell and escorts them there. Still gripping each others’ hands, Harry and Louis take a deep breath together before entering the room.
She looks tiny in the bed.
The smell in the room is stale and Louis holds back his instincts to scent it.
Harry releases his hand to run to Annie, pressing a kiss on her forehead that wakes her up.
“Mom?” she asks with a groggy voice.
“No, Annie. It’s... me,” Harry whispers. “Harry.”
Her face lights up, and Louis is relieved to see she has some energy. She really does look unwell, with deep, sunken eyes bruised all around.
Then, Annie’s eyes find Louis over Harry’s shoulder. They narrow to a knife point. He swallows and approaches anyway, staying behind Harry.
She cocks an eyebrow at him. “What happened to your forehead?”
“I fell.”
She hums and looks back to Harry.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice is so strong still. Always was, really.
“We need to speak to your parents and doctors. About your treatment.”
Annie’s smile flatlines. “Oh.”
“Is that ok? We just want to help.”
She flickers her eyes to Louis for just one fraction of a second, and Louis steps forward to grab her hand. She doesn’t fight it.
“We can’t help you without them, kiddo.”
He sympathizes. He really does. At fifteen, all he wanted was freedom, to be in charge of his own life. Now, he’d give anything to have someone else in charge of keeping him alive. Not to say that Niall doesn’t do an adequate job, but there’s only so much two guys can rely on each other on.
At fifteen, parents feel like prison guards — especially the good ones.
Someone enters the room, causing the three of them to jump.
“Who are you and why are you in my daughter’s room?” A man asks, walking swiftly toward them. Harry steps in front of Louis and extends his arms. Before Louis can shove Harry behind him and growl at the intruder, Harry is hugging the man. At the door, a woman hovers, like she’s considering calling for help.
Louis hangs his head.
Harry chants thankyouthankyouthankyou into the man’s shoulder. The woman approaches, and Louis places a hand on Harry’s back to bring him back to the situation.
The woman stares at the two of them in one part wonder, one part confusion, one part suspicion.
“You’re the men from the pictures,” she says after a moment. She turns to the man and repeats it to the man, and he seems to understand what she means.
“What pictures?” Louis ventures to ask, assuming there’s headshots of him and Harry all over the news.
“Mom! You took my camera?!” Annie huffs from the bed.
“Sorry, honey. I thought it would be nice to develop your film while you were asleep…”
Annie groans and her mom looks at Harry and then at Louis again.
“Now, who here is going to explain who you two are and why my baby has your pictures?”
Harry is the first to open his mouth to explain, but nothing comes out. Then, Louis tries to take over for him, but he’s not sure where to start.
“They’re my biological parents,” Annie sighs. Harry and Louis’ tension melts away as Annie’s parents get very stiff. But they focus on their daughter. “I lied. I went to look for them, and I found them. It took a while, but I found them, Mom.”
“Oh, honey….” her mom pushes past Harry and Louis, who easily let her though to embrace her daughter, who has begun to sob.
Annie’s dad eyes them both deeply, and they shuffle to the side of the room.
“Is this true?”
“Yes,” Harry answers immediately. Louis finds his hand and nods.
Instead of something like going ape on them, the man breaks down into his own sob and brings them both in for a hug. They don’t really have any other choice than to go with it.
“Thank you for giving us our Annie,” he sobs.
Louis hears Harry’s breath stop. So, Louis breaks the hug, subconsciously pushing Harry behind him. With all the resolution he could muster, bolstered by his rage at the injustice and unfairness of it all, he steadies his voice.
“Sir, I don’t know what you were told, but Annie wasn’t given willingly…”
“She’s ours!” The man begins to threaten, his eyes give away his fear.
Louis understands, but nonetheless, he pushes Harry further behind him, nearly to the other side of his body, furthest from the man. He feels Harry resist his manhandling, but he submits when the man steps forward, just an inch or so.
“Sir,” Louis repeats.
The man relaxes his face, but his breath is still hurried.
“Frank.”
Louis puts his hands between them, a visual reminder to keep their conversation low — to not escalate.
“Frank, when Annie was born, she was taken. Harry was told she had been still born. They lied, and gave her to you…”
This was the moment they would learn how much Annie’s parents knew about the adoption agency. Frank"s eyes unfocus for a moment, like he’s replaying the years past in his head, rewinding to all those years ago to look for evidence.
“No!” Frank shouts. He looks between the two of them before settling his gaze on Harry. Thankfully, he lowers his voice to some quiet broken tone as the realization hits him. “They told us you died. They said you were dead. You’re supposed to be dead.”
Harry loses it. He can’t help the sharp sob that erupts from him. Harry tries to cover his mouth, but Louis brings him around and guides his face into his neck by the back of his head for some semblance of privacy and safety. He knows what is running through Harry’s brain, constricting his heart: Harry was dead that day and every day since.
“Did you know about her heritage? That’s she’s a wolf?” Louis asks Frank. It’s another question he didn’t want to know, but he suddenly felt like he and Harry were both entitled to the answer. He was vaguely aware of how certain human religious and political groups fetishize wolf children, raising them in their communities as spectacles or as a tactic to get social brownie points.
Annie’s mom joins them at her husband’s side.
“They told us she had mixed heritage. It didn"t matter to us. We had been trying for so long…. We never meant to—” She pauses, as if to hold in her own cry, before her husband draws her into his chest. Louis sees them now, mirroring him and Harry’s position, as a loving couple who just wanted to share their love with a child.
In a sense, they were victims of it all, too.
Louis gives Harry a kiss on his head for strength and support. “You have done an exceptional job raising her,” Louis says, hoping to convey his sincerity. “Your daughter is smart and strong and perfect.”
The atmosphere changes then.
Harry gets brave it seems. He peels himself out of his Louis-cocoon and faces them both.
“Thank you for being there for her when I couldn’t.”
Annie’s mom surges forward, and she and Harry sob into each others’ arms. Frank and Louis watch with smiles.
Annie clears her throat.
“I’m still here, everyone. I can hear you, just so you know.”
It breaks the tension, and the four people who have loved Annie more than anyone else fall into laughter.
“We were having a moment here, kiddo,” Frank says between chuckles.
Two hours later, he and Harry have nurses drawing blood panels and running tests. If all is well, within the week, they can undergo the procedure to have their marrow extracted for Annie’s treatment.
Frank and Kim, Annie’s mom, insist on paying for a hotel room for Harry and Louis nearby to the hospital, where they are also staying. They don’t even have to leave the hotel to get back into the hospital; it’s connected through a bridge. When Zayn gives the all clear, they settle into their room, with a dinner invitation downstairs with Annie’s parents.
As soon as the door closes, Harry flops belly-first onto the bed and Louis uses the phone on the nightstand to call Niall.
“You’ve really got the whole town turned upside down, pal,” Niall tells him, once he confirms it’s really his best friend on the other line.
“No one’s harassing you though, right?” He taps his hand on his thigh. Next to him, Harry curls his body. Louis leans forward to grab the blanket at the foot of the bed to pull over him. His head rests on his shoulder, and everything feels right.
“Not really. I’m hunkered down with Hannah, actually. So, yeah, actually, maybe.”
Next to him, Harry’s breath hitches.
There’s a pause, and Louis isn’t sure what Niall will say next. Did Hannah end up notifying the authorities about Annie? Is their lawn crawling with reporters? Are they safe?
“Yeah, um, she’s out with the kids right now, but she’ll want to say hi sometime.”
Louis wonders if Harry had thought Hannah was Annie"s mom. Or if he thinks he and Hannah have kids together; if he’s worried about the same old things from years and years ago. Louis drops a hand to Harry’s head, using his thumb to rub lightly at his temple.
He changes the topic.
“Um. Annie is ok. We’re getting approved for her treatment.”
“We?”
Oh, fuck.
“Um, yeah.” Louis glances down to where Harry has his eyes closed, but is clearly not falling asleep anytime soon, despite the head massage Louis is giving him for both their benefits.
“I found my wolf boy,” he says with a hesitant chuckle.
“What?!” He’s loud enough that it makes Harry giggle.
“Yeah, it’s been… a week.”
“Fucksake, Lou. Did you beat the crap outta him?”
He has to laugh. “Far from it, Ni. There’s a long story, but the point is Harry is no longer public enemy number one.”
“Harry! That’s his name. How did I forget that? A wolf named hairy… Fuck. How is he?”
Harry lifts his head and arches his brow for permission. Harry nods and lowers the phone.
“Hi, Niall I’m ok. Tired. How are you?”
“Get out! No fucking way.” Louis holds the phone away from them to mute Niall’s hysterical shouts and laughter. Harry chuckles against Louis’ shoulder.
Louis knows Niall would flip seeing how Harry looks now. Harry will have an easier time; Niall looks the same as he did at fifteen. Just darker hair.
Niall eventually wraps up the call, and Louis wiggles down the bed to rest with Harry at his side.
They miss dinner.
In the morning, Louis calls their room to apologize, but they are completely understanding and invite them down to the breakfast buffet.
Louis leads them down the elevator, which he has to coax Harry through. In the lobby, Louis keeps his hood up and over his face as well as a beanie over his forehead gash — which is more like a scrape at this point. Luckily, his facial hair has had a great time the past week or so without being shaved, that it helps obscure the face all the reporters eating in the lobby are looking for.
Frank and Kim wave to them from the corner and shoo them into the seats opposite them.
“Morning, you two,” Kim says, all cheery. “Those reporters are like flies, I swear.” She nods her head over their shoulders, toward where the media are gathered.
“Those flies did help bring Annie back to us, dear,” Frank reminds her.
Harry and Louis both still. Louis draws a deep breath and Harry finds his hand to give is a squeeze. They can do this.
Kim insists they get something to eat before they all get to talking. They’ll need all the energy they can get for the coming weeks. Kim offers to be their tour guide to the buffet, showing them the slimy rehydrated eggs, the fresh fruits, the selection of three cold cereals, and the pastry box.
When they have their plates full, they return to the table. It only takes a couple bites before Frank and Kim nervously look at each other and clear their throats.
“We want to apologize,” they say.
“Um, for what?” Louis asks. Harry slowly chews his jam danish.
“Well, for not asking more questions, I suppose. When we adopted Annie. We should have been more thorough.” She looks at Harry now, “We should have asked to meet you, I suppose. Or for your information. We were just so desperate, and we were always told it was best if everything was…private. Even though that never felt right to us. We shouldn’t’ve—”
Harry wipes his mouth quickly. “No, no. They would have lied and manipulated no matter what. And if it weren’t you, some other couple could have took her, maybe someone not as wonderful as you’ve been. Really.”
Louis feels all warm — well, extra warm, given his attire — hearing how genuinely appreciative Harry is. And he’s right; the institution and the adoption agency are at fault here. If not only for providing somewhere for Harry to be sent to, to trick him, and to shame him.
“Well, anyway,” Kim continues, her bottom lip beginning to wobble. “I’m sorry for the circumstances, but I just need you to know how grateful we were from day one to have her, for you both to have created our beautiful daughter.”
Kim is really trying to keep it together. Louis flicks his eyes to view Harry in his peripherals. He is also holding it together, but Louis can sense his breath get shallower and how he starts to pick at his cuticles.
Frank clears his throat. “And, if all goes well, you’ll be giving her life a second time, too.” And when Frank’s waterworks break, so does Harry’s. Louis holds his back, but relies heavily on his fingernails pressing into his palm to stay calm.
“Maybe we should head over to the hospital soon?” Louis suggests.
Everyone nods, dabbing their eyes with the paper napkins.
Louis sneaks one of the mini boxes of Cocoa Pops to bring to Annie before he and Harry follow Kim and Frank down the connecting bridge and into the hospital. Louis keeps his head down and his hand in Harry’s until they enter Annie’s room.
He can tell she had a fitful sleep — they probably all did. Louis knows for himself and Harry, they spent the better part of the night thrashing in their sleep. But her face turns to pure sunshine when she sees all four of them enter the room.
Harry sits on the window bench furthest from Annie, trying to make himself disappear almost. Louis frowns at him, sympathetically, but Harry turns his face to watch the sky. But there’s not much he can do to help when Harry won’t let him into what’s going in his mind.
“Louis! It’s so weird to see you all in the same room,” Annie greets him, meeting his high-five and low-five. Just as he slips the cereal box out of its hiding place, he looks to her parents and grimaces.
He holds it up to them and cocks his head.
They look confused, but Frank catches on first. He nods.
When he presents it, Annie screams and grabs it from his hand, spewing a million thank yous. He ruffles her hair.
A couple nurses and doctors file in the room. Louis recognizes most of them. He goes to sit next to Harry, but keeps just an inch of space between them.
“Morning everyone. Good news! You’ve been approved for the procedure.”
Louis finds himself cheering with Annie and her parents, only to feel Harry stiff beside him still. He’s smiling, but he looks sad. With all eyes on them, he can’t really ask him what’s on his mind.
“That’s great, Doc. When can we do it?”
“I’ve already cleared my schedule for the end of the day. We’ll keep you two overnight and depending on how you fare, you can go home tomorrow night. We’ve just got some paperwork…”
He looks at the posse behind him, and a woman in a pantsuit comes forward to present them all the waivers and papers. And pens. They kinda want them to sign now.
Louis takes the papers for Harry, too, and stands up. He shakes the doctors’ hands, sends a reassuring smile to Frank and Kim. Annie gets a wink.
“Thank you so much, we’ll review these back in our room and return them to…?”
Everyone looks a little confused, even Annie’s parents, but the suit lady fumbles through telling them how to submit their paperwork or where they can find her for any questions.
When everyone lingers, Louis simply announces he and Harry will leave to review it now to get a head start. He grips Annie’s ankle reassuringly, giving it a playful shake, as they pass the foot of her hospital bed.
Kim reaches out as they pass her and her husband, and Louis makes sure to take her hand and draw her in for a hug. He kisses her on the cheek and makes sure Frank can see his mouth as he whispers, It’s ok.
Harry follows silently and back in the hotel room, he slumps on the chair at the desk in the corner of the room.
Louis rubs his hands together and sits on the foot of the bed, his knees apart and feet solidly on the floor. The papers are next to him.
“Harry,” Louis starts as gently as he can — which, for the record, is very gentle.
At the sound of his name, Harry turns away from him.
“What’s going on in your head, baby?”
Harry chews his lips. Louis gives him a while to muster whatever he needs to speak.
“I want to help,” he whispers. “I really do, but….”
Louis lightly scents the room, trying to make Harry feel safe. He drags his hands over his face, then turns to look toward Louis, but still not at him. Louis tilts his head, lowers it, to hopefully catch Harry’s line of sight anyway.
“I’m scared. Like, it just somehow didn’t occur to me there"d be a whole…” he gestures wildly, in the air, then around his body, “… surgery.”
He meets Louis’ gaze with red-rimmed eyes. “I don’t know if I can actually do it, Louis.”
Louis sighs and kneels in front of him on the chair. He takes his hands and kisses his knuckles.
“Can’t do what, baby?”
Small, heavy tears drop onto their hands.
“I’ve never been back in a hospital or anything since. I don’t know if I can do it. They’ll put us under, won’t they? I can’t—”
Louis hushes him to interrupt his spiral downward. Of course, Louis thinks. How could he forget the story Harry told him of Annie’s birth? He was sedated without any warning, any consent. Then woke to the worst news imaginable. Only to find out it was a lie.
Of course Harry is afraid to be vulnerable again.
“What if I do it first? Hmm? Then I’ll demand to be in the room with you the whole time. Or, like, behind a window or something. I’ll be with you the whole time, baby. I promise.”
Harry slips off the chair and into the cove Louis’ body creates. He strokes Harry’s back and lets him fall apart, scootching them both back to rest against the end of the bed.
“What do you say, Splinner?” Louis whispers when Harry’s breath steadies.
He just nods against Louis’ chest.
“You promise?”
Harry withdraws his hand from where it was melded to somewhere on Louis’ side. He makes a fist, then extends his pinky finger.
Louis hooks his own pinky finger — holds it tight and shakes their hands to seal it.
“I promise.”
Two hours later, after lots and lots of snuggles and sips of water, Louis sets up his appointment with the surgical team. He makes sure Harry is ok on his own for a bit while he goes alone.
The team is completely understanding and works out a plan they hope makes Harry feel comfortable while acknowledging Louis’ recovery might interfere with his ability to observe the procedure. Louis feels a hard pit of guilt in his stomach that he’ll be lying to Harry, but the overall plan outweighs his conscience.
TWELVE YEARS AGO — HARRY
“We have to leave now, sweetheart,” Vernon called from the door. He knew Harry was stalling as long as possible. He knew Harry hated going to clan festivals. He didn’t understand why, nor did he try.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to look my best for you, alpha,” Harry called, looking himself over once more in the mirror. His eyes were still a little red, but under the crescent moon and glare of bonfires, it would be hard to tell.
He shuffled to Vernon’s side, and the man took him by the arm — not harshly, but not gently either — before leading him to the small group of others departing for the grove.
Vernon’s children ignored Harry, as per usual. Only Matilda, technically his granddaughter, acknowledged him with a small over her dad’s shoulder. He smiled back, and she shyly tucked her head into his shoulder. Watching Matilda grow was the hardest part of this arrangement. Although she and her parents didn’t live in Vernon’s house or nearby, they always came back for pack and clan events, since they were technically still part of Vernon’s (and Harry’s) pack.
Matilda would be the same age as his own pup, who he’s decided he would have called Summer, if he’d been allowed or if, frankly, he could muster the courage to allow himself to bear giving her a name.
At the grove, Vernon instructed Harry to stay closeby, but once the old man got distracted by some of his buddies, Harry slipped away to find Liam.
Unfortunately, his mom found him first.
After a stilted exchange of greetings, she gripped his arm. The heat of ceremonial bonfires had already created a crown of sweat at his hairline, making his curls quite happy.
“I hope tonight’s ceremony will be fruitful for you, son.”
He hoped it didn’t.
She bore into him with her gaze. It wasn’t a hope, it was a command. When Harry winced, she sighed in exasperation.
“Harry, I don’t know why you insist on making your life as difficult as possible. You have no idea what I risked arranging your marriage for you, and it’s like you aren’t grateful at all. People talk, you know? You need to secure your place as Vernon’s omega. As a matriarch.”
Her eyes flicked down to Harry’s stomach, and he instinctively crossed his arms to cover himself, protect himself from her coldness.
“We both know there’s no reason why you haven’t been able to give him a pup yet,” she said, the words cutting through the air like razors.
He grimaced and tried to turn away, but she gripped his chin and turned him back to face her. Her touch was gentle, somehow, and her face softened.
“I’m just trying to look out for you, son.”
He hung his head and nodded slightly. She really did have his best interest at heart. Well, not his as a person, but as her son, as an omega, yes. Everything she was telling him, everything she raised him to be would have served him well if he intended to be the docile, traditional omega he was expected to be.
But he didn’t want this life.
He didn’t have an alternative.
So, he smiled and thanked her.
Later that night, after hearing the coition ceremony while he tucked his face away into Vernon’s chest — the alpha shared once how cute he found it that the ceremony made him bashful, insinuating that it reminded Harry of their own mating, which it did, but not in a way that made Harry bashful or happy — the wave of pheromones from the platform rained down on the crowd and sent the omegas in the crowd into the collective heat that triggered a rut in the alphas.
The night air filled with cries that echoed those on the platform as the mated pairs transformed into their wolf states. Usually, Harry would participate in the tradition of The Chase — it had always been an excuse to delay the inevitable. He was fast.
Instead, he bowed his front and bore himself to his alpha. He forced his omega to control his consciousness and his inner self, his humanity, drifted off back to the lighthouse.