Louis ripped the papers out of Harry's fists, tearing some of them, including the picture. His eyes quickly scanned over the paper, looking at her name and details. Anne Twist. Defense Secretary. It must be someone else Harry knows. But then he looked down to her full information. Marital status: Re-Married. Children: Two. Gemma Styles. Harry-Harry Styles. "Fuck."

Harry's whole body was trembling, "Louis, why is my mom's picture on your table?" He picked up more of the papers. "Why do you have her schedule? Are these the fucking blueprints to my house?"

Louis dropped the stuff in his hands and ran back to the couch, tucking his hand under it and retrieving his gun. he came back and hauled Harry up under the arm. He turned him to face him and took his chin in his hands. "Listen to me. I didn't know. I would never, Harry."

"I have to-are you going to kill my mum?"

Louis softened for a moment, rubbing his thumb under Harry's cheek bone. "No, baby, of course not."

"Then why-"

"I don't know, love. Please, just," Louis put a hand to Harry's chest, "wait here. I need to grab my phone and call Zayn." Louis ran, gun loaded and ready, to his room to retrieve his phone and sprinted back out to his living room.

An empty living room.

***

Harry nearly tripped running down the stairs. He scrambled to find his mom's number and press the phone to his ear. After two rings the voice that used to rock him to sleep answered with a sweet, "Hello dear."

"Mom," Harry's frantic voice came over the phone.

"What's wrong sweetheart?"

"Are you at work?"

"Yes, of course I am. Its the middle of the afternoon. What's wrong?"

"Don't leave. Call-" a hand covered Harry's mouth, cutting off his sentence. He screamed but the gloved palm muffled any noise. They pinned his head to their chest and his body to theirs with strong arms. Harry kicked and flailed, hitting the other man that was holding the car door open. His arms swung out, hitting the men as many times as he could while taking in everything he could. Brown hair, eyebrow ring, green shirt. Now everything was blurring and he couldn't decipher who's characteristics belonged to whom. His mind went foggy as he was dragged into the backseat of a blacked-out SUV, his phone dropping to the ground with a crack.

"Harry? Harry, what's wrong?" He could hear the faintest worries of his mother before they slammed the door, locked him inside, and drove off with an unconscious boy in the back seat.

***

Louis ran down the flight of stairs, gun tucked into the back of his pants, phone in hand and dialing Zayn. He looked both ways and didn't see Harry's lanky frame so he ran towards where he saw Harry's car a couple blocks down. He made it to the next block when he saw the cracked phone, Harry's phone, on the ground.

"Hello," Zayn groggy voice answered. He'd just woken up. Louis finally let him go back to his own flat and now he was across town. God fucking dammit.

"They took Harry."

"God dammit, Lou," tell me about it, "I warned you!"

"We have a kill order for his mom."

"Jesus Christ, Lou. Why the hell did I go home?" Louis heard some shuffling. "Be there in ten."

"Zayn," Louis' voice broke. "What if-"

"Don't." Then the line went dead. Louis held both the phones tight in his hands as he ran back to his place and up the stairs. He threw them on the couch and picked up the papers that were scattered over the floor. Anne Twist. She had meant to go to Germany on business tomorrow. The second of two recent meetings with none other than our very own dirtbag business man, Albert. Well that had surely cancelled.

It all came back to him. Harry said Leslie was one of his mother's closest friends. Then he heard that business call Albert took from a woman saying that Leslie's death wouldn't be in vain and that she'd visit him as soon as she could. He flicked the pages one by one, not really reading them, before grabbing the other folders. They rarely had more than one target per mission and now they had three? Louis was on his knees as he ripped the sleeve open and took out its contents.

Harry's face was staring back at him. It was a recent one. In the last couple of months at least because his hair was long and we was wearing that ridiculous peacock shirt he loved. Louis' fingers traced over the curves of his face, imagining the soft skin over his nose and feeling of his plump lips. Right over the middle of his face was the signature red caps, KILL ORDER.

They wanted him to kill the love of his life. They raped his best friend, threatened his family, and now they wanted him to kill the person he loved more than anything. Louis was shaking with rage as he tore every single piece of paper up and then the envelope. In the ruckus something heavier than paper fell to his feet. He looked down through the tears and saw a tape recorder, equipped with a tape. They never put a voice message in a kill order before.

He picked up the recorder and the other still unopened folder, Gemma's he assumed, before sitting on the couch. He ran his thumb over the play button in soothing circles, like he could ease the thing into taking it easy on him. He went to press play multiple times, but couldn't. Instead he dropped the recorder next to him and went to open Gemma's folder. At least this blow would be less painful. No offense to Gemma, but Louis had tripped the grenade with the last folder he opened. He ran his finger under the flap, the glue barely sticking now that it'd been sitting and waiting for days. He tipped it on it's side and pulled the papers out and looked at the face, only Gemma's face wasn't looking back at him.