It's all a complicated mess. All the words the doctors are speaking blur together, and the brightness of the lights are blinding. In the sea of random faces, Anne's stands out the most. Her soft green eyes are filled with tears and she's speaking but her voice is too far away to hear. Harry can't hear over the sound of the beeping. He can feel his mother's hand holding his in a vice tight grip, and he can see the bloody mess he's created. The only thing he can't see is Louis. The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was Louis carrying him gently towards a car, wincing in pain.

"Where is he?" His own voice sounds so foreign; so weak.

"He's being treated himself. Are you okay honey?"

Anne blinks through her tears, pushing her hair out of her face and desperately wiping at the tears on her cheeks. Harry has to take a moment to reply.

"Yeah. I'm okay,"

He's far from okay. The pain is unbearable, and he knows he's still bleeding. His mouth tastes like blood, and his face is swelling with each second that passes. The corners of his vision are starting to blur and he can feel himself starting to fade out of consciousness for the second time that night. It's when he's wheeled into a private room a few seconds later, when he drifts into unconsciousness.

**

It's hard to comprehend what happened, especially when it comes down to the fact his drama teacher saved his life. Louis stands at the foot of Harry's bed, his hand in a cast. Diagnosis; a few broken knuckles. Louis swears it's not an issue, but it really is.

"I'm sorry," Harry says softly, for the millionth time.

Louis' face falls slightly and he exhales for a second gently. His skin is glowing under the lights, and Harry can't catch a break. Louis' hair is neatly gelled back and is wearing a pair of denim jeans and a navy button up. He looks fine.

"Please stop apologising. It's not your fault,"

"It is. It's all my fault,"

"It's his fault Harry. You won't be seeing him anymore, okay? The main thing is that you're safe and okay,"

"You've broken your hand though, Mr Tomlinson," Harry frowns, eyeing the cast from his bed and staring at Louis who looks deflated now.

"Just call me Louis for now. I don't need this hand, really, it's fine," Louis chuckles to himself

"I just feel terrible. I wish it never happened,"

"Don't we all. I do have a question though Harry,"

"What?"

Louis chews the inside of his mouth, looking towards the ceiling. He's trying to think. He wants to find out everything, without sounding harsh.

"What exactly happened before I arrived? I'm still in the dark about that,"

Harry stares, as Louis' blue eyes twinkle with wonder. The story had been told so many times and now it's just too much. But Harry knows he owes Louis that much. The memories come flooding back, like a raging river, and it's enough to make Harry's stomach twist, and to start tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

"It's a long story,"

"You don't think I have time? It's okay. You've probably repeated it a thousand times, but I just want to know,"

Harry blinks, and clenches his jaw in a desperate attempt not to cry.

"Mum was out; I was home alone. Mum hadn't left my side since the first incident, so I told her to spend the night out with her friends. She didn't really want to, like, she was kind of reluctant but I convinced her. So she went. I was watching TV in the lounge-room and I heard something in the kitchen- and well..." Harry trails off, flinching at the graphic memories

"He was there?" Louis' voice is gentle

"Yeah. I saw him and asked him what he was doing. He was so angry, and he came towards me, and pushed me against the wall. He kept saying how terrible I am. He slammed my head against the counter, and that's when my mouth started to bleed. He let go and started throwing mum's plates at me, and her glass cups. My mouth was bleeding so much, and I thought I had broken my jaw the pain was that bad. He sort of left the room for a moment, and then I messaged you. Just as I sent it...he threw it and it smashed."

Louis' face is tense, his lips pursed tight and his skin is becoming slightly flushed. He runs his other hand through his hair as he shifts his weight onto his other leg.

"He, um, started to hit me. I was on the floor after a couple of hits to the face. He started kicking me really hard, like I thought my ribs were shattered. I was trying to crawl away but the broken pieces of glass were cutting my hands. He also started trying to dig the bigger pieces of glass into my back and sides. I....I couldn't get away. The last kick was enough to make me black out,"

Harry stops, tears slowly dripping down his cheeks. Louis doesn't know what to do. Harry can't keep it together anymore. The tears are becoming more constant, and his hands are beginning to shake. The memories are burning the back of his eyelids.

"Just go. Please go," Harry hiccups.

He looks at Louis, who looks as helpless as ever. His body is slightly hunched, and he's frowning.

"Harry...I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't mean to hurt you,"

But there's no point in arguing because Harry shakes his head, tears still dripping from the corners of his eyes.

"Please...just go. Thanks for looking after me Mr Tomlinson but I need you to leave me alone,"

It's probably the second hardest thing Louis has ever had to do in his life, but he does what Harry wishes and leaves. The minute Louis' silhouette disappears through the doors and out of sight of Harry, Harry curls into a ball and starts to cry the hardest he's ever cried in his life.

***

It's 3 damn weeks before Harry makes an appearance back in his classes. He's still weak, and feels like a complete outcast but he knows he can't miss any more classes. He had Mr Tomlinson give his mum all the things that were needed and everything he missed out on each week, and he spent his entire time studying. The first week was spent in his hospital bed, studying for hours to forget his real issues. The second week was all over the place. He was constantly visited by psychiatrists, doctors and police, but was allowed home halfway through the week. The third week however, he rarely left his room. He spent that week reading over the same materials over, and over for hours. It's all he did besides sleep.

But now here he is. He's on his way to drama and he's absolutely terrified. He hadn't heard from or seen Louis since that day. He didn't really expect any different, but it was still slightly crushing. All Harry knew was that he was safe now, but it really didn't feel that way. Nick had been taken away and was facing courts and there was a restraining order placed. Nick couldn't hurt him anymore. Niall and Ed had tried to be there but Harry pushed them away. Today was the first day he had really spoken to them. They didn't ask what happened, and they didn't bring it up. They seemed a bit off but they tried to act as normal as possible.

It's a cold, miserable day. It really represented how Harry felt inside. The only thing that made Harry feel better was the fact that all the physical bruising on his face had disappeared. He looked normal. He wouldn't be able to handle the strange looks. It's truly fucking terrifying when he walks into the classroom. The students stare at Harry for a few seconds and go back to what they were originally doing. Harry can sense Louis watching him carefully but he refuses to look in his direction as he takes his seat. The lesson drags, absolutely fucking drags. The entire time Harry can sense how tense Louis is, and Louis' voice is slightly strained. It takes a lot of effort to not look in his direction, but Harry finally gives in. To his surprise, Louis isn't looking at him but he looks so drained.

He has stubble, something that Harry hasn't seen yet but it worked. Louis' hair is uncombed and messy. His skin looks flushed out, and the bags under his eyes are ridiculous. Harry finds himself holding onto his breathe until Louis finally glances in his direction. Louis' eyes flicker away then back suddenly, as if he just registered that Harry was paying him attention. The colour of his eyes are a dull grey, but still twinkle slightly although they look lifeless. He's wearing a maroon sweater and a pair of black chinos, but Harry remains focused on the cast which is still present.

When the class ends, Harry lingers behind. He slowly packs away his belongings and watches as the students pour out of the room one by one.

"You're back," Louis' voice fills the room

Harry's head snaps towards Louis, who is seated at his desk with a faint smile on his face. Harry swallows and nods, too afraid to speak.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay,"

"You sure about that? You don't really appear to be okay. You look like you've seen a ghost,"

"I'm okay Mr Tomlinson. It's just tough coming back after everything. Also, I could say the same for you. Looks like you had a rough night last night,"

"You could say some rough couple weeks to be totally honest, but that's beside the point. Are you up to date with all the study material I provided you with? I don't want to see you fall behind,"

"I've read everything so much that it's ridiculous. It's good to finally be learning something new." Harry picks at the end of his jumper nervously.

"I see," Louis grabs an apple off his desk and leans into his chair.

"I was wondering if you could tutor me. I mean... I may have read everything but I feel like I'm at a disadvantage,"

Harry immediately regrets his decision as Louis has to stop and think about it. As the seconds tick by, Harry speaks up.

"Don't worry about it. I should be fine. I'm going to leave,"

Louis just looks up from the floor and stares at Harry. His face is a blank canvas as Harry pulls his bag onto his shoulder and leaves the room without a word.

Louis can't handle it. He can't physically handle looking at Harry anymore. It absolutely tore him apart and he hasn't been able to sleep a day since that night. Whenever he finally falls asleep, he's tormented by the image of Harry all bloody and bruised. His life was falling apart beforehand, but in the past 3 weeks a lot had changed. The alcohol had become more of an issue, and Louis was once again becoming reliant on the medication that the doctors prescribed a long time ago. He's reverted back to the person he hated the most. There wasn't much left in the relationship between Eleanor and Louis either. The excessive binge drinking started, the alcohol fuelled rage and pill addiction just added onto the relationships issues. Eleanor hadn't spoken to Louis in almost 2 weeks now. She had brought countless amounts of psychologists and doctors to Louis' home, but it was useless. Louis was a broken man once again. He was in the mindset of the abused teenager he once was.

"Harry,"

Louis' voice is loud enough to ring down the hallway, as Louis moves from his desk and towards the door. Harry doesn't want to hear it, he really doesn't. He can hear his name being yelled again and it sounds desperate. Harry stops in his tracks, and turns back towards Louis. Harry can feel his own anger pulsing in his veins.

"What do you want? I'm trying to leave," Harry snaps back

Louis physically tenses at the sound of Harry's voice, and it sends shockwaves through his system.

"You can't be mad at me. I did the best I could that night, I could have just ignored it. I don't know what else you want me to do? I'm your teacher for Christ sake!"

"It's not even about that. I know you helped me, and I really appreciate it. It's the fact I've asked you to help me with my study. It's what you're here to do!"

"Fine, come back. We will give it a try okay. I will help you the best I can," Louis runs his cast free hand through his hair, and watches as Harry storms back in his direction and into the room.

"Where do we start?" Harry mutters, throwing his bag on the floor.