Chapter Text
PRESENT — HARRY
Harry picks at the cuticle on his little finger as he watches the team wheel Louis past the operating wing doors. Louis waves at him and blows him a kiss just as the doors swing closed.
Kim tightens her arm around his shoulders and walks him back to the private waiting room the hospital provided for him, given 1) that they were donating, 2) that he was an omega, and 3) the media had caught wind of Louis’ presence and Annie’s continued stay.
Annie’s parents had issued a statement asking for the public to respect the privacy of their family and that Annie remains well and in good health. The extended stay is precautionary, they included.
They had also fended off the investigators, assuring them that they didn’t intend to pursue any charges against Louis relating to Annie’s disappearance.
Truly, truly, truly, Harry couldn’t have wished for better people to have protected and raised Annie and to now be part of his life. Although Annie had asked him, he couldn’t wait out the surgery in her room. So, he props himself up on the chair in the room, leaving only the table lamp on, and flips through the National Geographic magazine on the table.
The procedure itself is only a half hour or so, but the preparation can take an hour, and his recovery can take anywhere between one and three hours. They arranged for Harry to be let in his recovery room as soon as the surgeon could clear Louis, instead of waiting until Louis was awake and done with pre-testing.
He was offered a chance to watch the procedure from the window, the same way Louis would tomorrow, but he declined. He feels like if he watches it, he’ll definitely chicken out.
Just after he was able to focus his brain away from Louis, a knock comes at the door. His heart drops, expecting the worst possible outcome of a relatively low-risk and quick procedure, and Kim places her hand on his arm as Frank gets the door.
It’s a nurse and the surgeon — she’s all cleaned up with new scrubs, it looks like. He can’t read either of their expressions.
“Tomlinson?”
The three of them nod.
“Right, he’s out of surgery. Everything went well. Cameron,” she turns to the nurse and then back to Harry, “will take you back to see him. If you have any questions, Cameron will page me or one of my colleagues.”
She looks at her watch, smiles, and excuses herself to another surgery.
The walk to Louis’ room is short in distance, but seems to have the infinite space to work up Harry’s nerves. They don’t have hospitals like this in enclaves. Healing and treatment are done at home or in home-like settings, often surrounded by pack members for safety and support.
Harry swallows, not knowing what to expect. But Cameron, the nurse, laughs.
“Just so you’re prepared —” Harry’s heart drops somehow further — “he’s off the anesthesia, but we have him on some pain meds, so he’s a bit, um, funny. He might say things he normally wouldn’t or things that don’t make sense. He’s fine, though.”
Cameron chuckles and opens the door. “Just don’t get in the bed with him. His pelvis will be sore for one to three weeks, but we’ll be back in a while to go over everything.” Cameron leaves a blushing Harry at the door.
“Oh, my curly omega! I need a kissy.” Louis puts his hands in the air and motions with limp wrists waving his hands to come.
Harry smiles. Louis’ face is all soft and his eyes are puffy and he smells off , but he’s so cute like this. Harry goes for a kiss on his cheek, but Louis pulls him roughly to his mouth for a wet smack, holding him there for far longer than necessary before licking a stripe up the front of his face and giggling.
“Yuck, Louis!” Harry retracts in disgust, but is pleased Louis appears more than ok.
Two hours of Louis’ embarrassingly flirtatious commentary, even as nurses come and go, later, a knock at the door brings a very welcome guest.
“Kimmy! You’re, like, the nicest person. Come give me a mom hug. I need a mom hug.” He brings his arms up again, similar to the position he tricked Harry with when he first entered. Kim looks amused, but cautious, and enters the room after Harry nods and chuckles.
“Was just coming by to collect Harry for lunch.”
“Nooooooo. Wait! Annie. Oh, Annie. She’s amazing, isn’t she?” He croons up at Harry and Kim with a goofy smile and far-off look. “My nose looks so much better on her, doesn’t it? Pretty eyes….” he draws off in a sigh.
“I’ll be back in a bit, Lou,” Harry says, standing up and stretching to take off his sweatshirt to leave with Louis. He tucks across Louis’ lap, and fights his inner omega when Louis pouts his lips.
“I promise,” he says, giving him his pinky.
Two days later, Louis is back to his old self, giving Harry his pinky finger for the fiftieth time since their alarm woke them at four in the morning. It is only seven in the morning now, but he needs all the reassurance he can get.
They spent all day yesterday in their hotel room, laying next to each other. Louis was still lightheaded and extremely fatigued, but they were able to hold hands and talk and watch shit tv the whole day.
They called Niall to update him, and Niall made Harry promise to take care of his brother — the word he used; it made Louis smile. He also made Louis promise to keep Harry, to not let him out of his sight. Louis very forcefully reassured both Niall and Harry that he had every intention of never letting Harry leave his sight ever again.
Annie has been in isolation since her team approved the treatment. She can’t risk contracting any infection before the treatment. And after, she’ll be under observation for at least two months. They were able to talk over the phone there. It wasn’t the same as getting to see her eyes crinkle when she cracks a joke that lands (they all land).
When she spoke to Harry privately, she kept the emotions light, in a remarkable ability to attune to someone’s needs. Nonetheless, Harry cried when she said a simple “thank you.”
As promised, Louis is in the pre-op room with him, suited up and waiting for the anesthesiologist to finish his calculations. Louis had met with him, Harry presumes, since he seemed extremely sensitive to Harry’s concerns.
He squeezes Harry’s hand and Harry squeezes it back extra tight as they are wheeled into the operating room. Someone procurs a stool for a fatigued Louis to sit, his gloved pinky finger wrapped around Harry’s.
The bright lights and frigid air haunt him, but he focuses on the warm, gentle assurances of Harry as the anesthesiologist greets him. Louis’ other hand brushes gently at his temple when the doctor puts the mask on him to deliver the anesthesia. He looks at Louis and Louis only, his bright blue eyes like a beacon.
He fights it for as long as possible, but when Louis whispers in his alpha tone to him to sleep, omega , everything falls into a black.
There’s murmuring and beeping. Footsteps around him. Someone looks at him and turns to a muted green tank. It’s dark.
It hurts. It hurts so bad. He can’t scream. Do they know he’s screaming?
Where is Louis? He tries to move his fingers, to feel Louis’ hand. Empty.
A cry. He hears the cry; he knows it. No one can tell him no this time. He knows it. He knows it.
Warm now. No bright light.
His arms are empty. He’s alone.
He falls into blackness again.
Humming. Comfortable.
“Hey, Splinner . ” Louis.
He flutters his eyes open before blinking them closed, hissing. Louis apologizes, but Harry knows none of this is his fault.
Harry tries to bring his hands to his face — it’s so bright — but something falls out of them. A blanket all rolled up.
“Huh?”
“She thought you might want it.”
It’s Annie’s. He brings it to his chest and holds it tight tight tight to his chest.
Louis meets his gaze, soft eyes and smile a calming beacon, grounding him to this moment and creating a safe haven between them.
Then, laughter.
He looks past Louis, where it comes from.
The room is divided in clear sheets of plastic, sealed to the walls and floor with bright yellow tape. Annie is encased, in her bed, sitting cross-legged with earphones over her head, bobbing to the music in her Walkman. She’s encased by the plastic curtains, framing her corner of the room like a display.
Something makes her stop.
She looks up and meets Harry’s eyes. She waves with a smile, a blue and green bracelet around her wrist.
“She’s going to be alright,” Louis whispers into his ear before grabbing Harry’s hand.
Harry smiles, letting the warmth of the alpha’s hand soak into his body, down to the bones. He curls his pinky around Louis’ and smiles, knowing she’s going to be ok.
“ We’re going to be alright,” Harry whispers, looking back into Louis’ eyes. Every twist of fate that has shattered his heart has led him there, to the moment he had spent so many nights dreaming of, even if it looks nothing like what he imagined, it’s perfect: Him, Louis, and their pup together.
It’s home.