he dies at the end / l.s. + m.c.

7. the desperate requests of a dying man

𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢
𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝟸:𝟶𝟷𝚊𝚖

Harry didn't know how he wanted to spend his day. Not really. He knew he wanted it to be with Louis and Ashton, but that was pretty much it. Any time Harry had imagined his death, it'd always been as an old man. He'd die in his sleep and be none the wiser. This... was not that. So, really, he didn't have a plan. He didn't have any ideas. And the storm raging outside certainly wouldn't help the situation. Luckily, for the moment, he had Louis. He had his sweet, beautiful husband wrapped around him from behind, the pair of them holding each other tight under the covers of their bed. The lights were off, but they didn't sleep. They couldn't sleep. The unspoken thought lingered in the air; the one that taunted the thought of Harry not waking up. And, honestly, neither of them were ready for that. Not yet. They had so much to say, and so little time to say it. So, no, Harry wasn't ready to call it a day just yet, even if he wasn't exactly ready to talk yet either.

A knock at the door startled both men out of the daydreams they'd sunk into, Louis perking up as Harry rolled over to lazily watch the door.

"Come in," he called with a saddening lack of enthusiasm. It was like he was dead already, even if his heart was still beating and his lungs were still expanding.

Niall poked his head in with a sad smile on his face, the kindest sight Harry had seen all night.

Niall was his assistant, but he was also his best friend (other than Louis, of course). He was Harry's first employee and his oldest acquaintance. Harry could remember so clearly meeting the brunette for the first time. He had only been twenty at the time and Niall had been as well. The guy pretty much led his own job interview given Harry had no clue what he was doing, and Niall was hired before he even left the property. Since then, the pair of them spent every day laughing and gossiping and just generally not doing what they were supposed to. He was one of the biggest constant lights in Harry's life. Now, though, looking at him felt like a death sentence, because even Niall, the guy who never frowned, looked sad.

"I thought I told you to stay home and get some rest," Harry chastised halfheartedly, unable to stop the small smile twitching at his lips. Especially when Niall shrugged and walked all the way into the room with that classic grin on his face.

"And I thought you knew you aren't in charge of me."

Harry chuckled, pushing himself off the pillow and into a seated position. He felt Louis finally let go of him, which was probably for the first time since they'd gotten the call. Louis kissed his cheek and leaned in close to his ear. "I'm gonna go check on Ash."

Harry nodded, craning his neck back to press a soft kiss to Louis' lips. "I love you," he whispered softly before allowing Louis to slip out of bed. The man didn't return the sentiment, but the look on his face was enough to say more than the words ever could. He patted Niall's shoulder as he walked by and left the room without another word, closing the door gently behind him.

Once Louis was gone, Niall closed the space between himself and Harry, crawling into bed next to him and sitting on Louis' side of the mattress. He leaned against the headboard, staring at the wall ahead. Harry mimicked his actions.

"So..." Niall broke the silence after several heavy moments that had Harry feel like his lungs were collapsing, "this is it, huh?" He hummed sadly. "Guess it had to happen sooner or later."

"Yeah," Harry agreed in a small voice. "Just didn't think the 'sooner' would be soon."

"And I didn't think I'd be the one to outlive you." Niall chuckled humorlessly as he tugged at the sheets, leaving wrinkles where he'd pinched them. He didn't look at Harry and Harry didn't dare look at him. He didn't think he could even if he wanted to, not under these circumstances. "I mean, c'mon. You do your stupid yoga every day, and I haven't exercised since secondary school. Surely, of the two of us, I was supposed to go first."

"I don't think it works that way." Harry felt his chest itch, like his skin was crawling on the inside. It made it hard to breathe, hard to function. No matter how many breaths he took, he was still winded. The anxiety filled his lungs instead. When he took a deep breath, it rumbled and left him feeling no more satisfied than he had a moment ago. "Niall, I need you to promise me something."

Niall didn't hesitate. "Anything, Harry. You know that."

Harry let his eyes slip close as he tried to keep himself from breaking down into a fit of sobs. He forced the rising emotion down and swallowed it until it was gone - for the moment at least.

"Once Ash and I are gone, take care of Louis. Make sure he's okay."

"You didn't even have to ask, mate. Of course I'm gonna stick around and help out."

Harry finally turned to look at his friend, meeting his gaze and sighing as he gave a shake of his head. "You don't understand. He won't just let you be here with him. He's not like that. He's going to fight every step to force you away, but you can't let him. Promise me, Niall, that you won't let him."

Niall's brow furrowed, but he nodded, swearing that he wouldn't let Harry down, and Harry could tell it was sincere. That was more than enough to satisfy him. Once Niall promised you something, you'd have to kill him for it to be broken. Harry couldn't think of a single time the man had let him down, and he was immensely glad that he would be the one left behind to care for his widowed husband.

"I know you've left instructions for everything yourself for... y'know, after," Niall started after a thick beat of silence, "but what about Ashton? Have you or he made a plan yet?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I mean, he's seventeen. It never even crossed my mind to talk to him about preparing for this. Knowing him, he's definitely thought about it, but I can't say that anything's set in stone. I'd imagine he'll want to be buried with his mum and sister up North."

"You don't think he'll want to be with you?" Niall asked softly, very nearly sending Harry spiraling. He held it together, though, determined to not let his friend see him cry. He blinked away the tears threatening to fall and choked back the heaviness in his throat.

"Doubt it. You know he's never really clicked with me - not like I have with him. And, y'know, that's his little sister, his mum. I wouldn't blame him for wanting to be with them. I want to be with my family, and maybe that's him for me, but that's not me for him."

Niall looked sad, a glaze of disbelief slathered across his face. He didn't fight it, though. He just smiled a tragic smile that didn't nearly reach his eyes. It was nauseating.

"Alright, boss. Don't worry about it, yeah? I'll take care of it. Talk to Ash and sort it all out."

Harry knew if he tried to speak, his voice would fail him, so he simply nodded and managed a smile towards his friend, who seemed to understand perfectly. Niall reached over and squeezed Harry's shoulder, holding eye contact for a moment before climbing off of the bed and leaving the room.