Faking

20

Harry only stood a moment, watching his three sons and husband be whisked away in choppers, their blades cutting through air harshly as they rose and left. He swallowed, the back of his head was filled with gratitude that Zayn had made him start taking his medication again, he wasn't sure he could do this without it.

"Styles! You coming?!" Harry turned his head to his good work buddy, T, and nodded, running with his heart in his ears to the latch opening the underground for them.

"Stay alert and ready, understand?" T nodded, signaling his understanding as Harry jumped into the hole in the surface.

He landed with a thud, his boots stomping on the floor accompanied by a dust cloud surrounding them. His heart was pounding, loud and painful. He signaled a few members of his team to go survey the bunker, as he himself started going down a dark hall, unlit besides a door that was slightly cracked open, a crevice of light shining through it.

Slowly, and quietly he walked down the tiled floor, coming to a stop at the wooden door. With the side of his hand, he slowly opened the door fully, peering inside to a room - if you could call it that. Harry tried not to gag at the smell of sick as he walked into the space, noticing the chains embedded into the walls.

Then, he took note of a cage and a broken chair lying on the floor, there was puke on the ground and blood in various places. He took all this in, going to step further in when he was knocked to the ground, landing with a hard thud, and quickly his breath was knocked out of him.

He got up, his heart beating quicker. Spinning around, he saw Charles, blood running down the side of his face, Harry had seconds to act. He tried his luck at his surroundings for a quick moment but there was nothing, he had to go solo.

Charles lunged. Instantly, they were both on the ground fighting for leverage. Harry managed to wrap an arm around Charles's neck, suffocating him and bending the man's throat. He spun the man so that he was on top of Charles's stomach. Harry pinned the other man's hands with his knees and with a whoosh of air, Harry's fist collided with Charles's cheekbone.

The ugly man made a grunting noise, right before Harry punched him again and another time after that! He didn't stop there, deciding for a quick elbow to the nose and he didn't have time to take in the fact he was covered in multiple people's blood. No, the only thoughts he had was all the awful things this man had done to his kids.

A slam of his fist.
For Liam's scream when he was being kidnapped.
Slam!
Louis, being kept in a cage, just used as a toy for Charles's pleasure.
Slam!
Naill, having to figure out how to get his youngest brother to stop overdosing at fifteen.
SLAM SLAM SLAM!

And Harry was being ripped away from Charles's bloody face.

"Get him out of here!" Two of Harry's friends who were in the workforce pulled him away, dragging him out of the bunker and bringing him to fall on the ground. He knew they were talking, but the blood in his ears reverberated through his body, making it impossible to hear them. His hands shook, bloody and already bruising.

He was sobbing - hard and unaware. Or maybe he knew and didn't care because those were his boys that he did that too, and how the hell was that fair?

Harry watched as two SWAT agents pulled Charles out of the hole, his body limp and his face disfigured. The SWAT agents were shouting, "Get a medic!" and other things as Harry watched the bad man be flown away.

The night grew dark, and medics came to check on Harry with a list of minor injuries and a cracked rib. "You need to go to the hospital..." He stoped listening and he let these people take him away from this horrid place.