Five Little Miracles (One Direction fan-fiction)

Prologue

I run down the dimly lit city street to my house, a wriggling bundle in my arms. My breathing starts to become short gasps for air, I need to stop and catch my breath. But I need to get to my home before they catch me. If they catch me, it would be the end of this little life I hold in my arms. So innocent, so adorable. But if the government got hold of this little being, he would surely suffer and eventually die. I can't have that. I won't have that. This little person will be safe and away from any harm for as long as I live. He will have a normal life, away from the government's crazy scientists or this country's neglected orphanages.

Yelling sounds behind me, and my blue eyes sparkle with worry and fear. My running pace quickens as I can finally spot the first house of my apartment complex on the side of the road. My apartment blends together with the rest of the housing beside it. Red brick walls, black front door, cement steps, and barely a front porch, the usually thing you would find on a New York City street. Quickly taking a detour in the hopes of losing these persistent chasers, I violently turn down an alleyway that I know will lead to the back door of my apartment.

I run up to the faded brown door and fumble with the doorknob with one hand, stumbling in and slamming the door tight shut behind me and locking it. I heavily gasp out and slide down my door, holding the bundle, I would rather die over than give freely to the government or anyone for that matter, close to my chest. I remain as quiet as I could, listening to the cries of the chasers calling to one another, asking where I had gone. I triumphant smile curls at my lips when I could hear them eventually leaving my small neighborhood. At least until I couldn't hear them from any of my windows.

Pulling away the tiny sheet that covered the baby's head, I lean down and gently press my nose to the top of his forehead, inhaling and loving his baby scent. Eventually I straighten backup and gaze down at his small face. His eyes are clamped shut, and he starts to whimper, more like whine, the way a dog would. I sigh out and lightly push away the small locks of brown hair away from his forehead.

I wait for a couple more seconds, just to be absolutely sure that the enemy is gone, before completely unwrapping his head to show two, slightly pointed puppy ears on top of his curly mop. I smile whenever he opens his eyes to me. Bright, shining, emerald orbs that glow in the dim moonlight coming in from my back window. Small, wiggling movements begin to tickle against the inside of my arm, and I couldn't help but silently chuckle. Happy to know that his eye-to-brain-to-tail coordination was perfect.

"Hey there, Baby," I say softly, keeping my voice down for the sake of his ears. Reaching down and gently stroking one of his cheeks with the knuckle of my index finger. I can't help but grin at how small and fragile and real he is.

He just smiles back at me and grabs a hold of my pointing finger, cooing and gurgling to himself and partially to me. Telling me about everything he's thinking of even though I don't understand a noise he's making.

When he finishes, I become more serious and sigh in disgust. "The government tried to take you, Little One... But I got there first. I saved you from that hellhole of an orphanage before that nasty woman could hand your life away. As long as you are with me, you will be safe," I state, knowing that I will do my best to keep that promise. He coos again and yawns, clearly stressed out from the day and tired since it's a little late for babies to still be awake. I can understand that, even though I knew that he had no idea what was going on or what could have been.

I yawn as well. It is true that yawning is very contagious. I push myself up from the floor, head over to the front door and make sure it's locked before walking towards my room, baby still in my arms. Weakly waddling up to my bed and slowly sliding onto the surface, as to not startle the tiny person in my arms, I give a sigh of relief. It felt good to be off of my feet.

Looking down at him, I then realize something rather important. "I'm going to have to name you, aren't I? Because your mom didn't name you from what the keeper said about you," I speak as I place him down in between two of my pillows. It was tragic, his mother abandoned him at the orphanage since she could never bring herself to love such a unique child.

It practically was fate that I happened to come across that orphanage yesterday when dropping off some toys for the children like I usually did. Seeing that one of the young girls was holding him and asking politely to hold him as well. She was more than willing to pass him onto me, and that's when I found out his truth. I sat outside with him on the orphanage steps and cried the entire time. I never wanted to give him back. It was an instant bond, even when I saw the ears on top of his head. Someone else happened to see his ears as well while passing by, and that's how the government came into the picture. Apparently they didn't like the idea of having that knowledge all to themselves and wanted to share it with the wrong people.

Wiggling in beside him and unable to stop smiling, I pull up the covers to meet both of our chests before wrapping a secure arm around him. He is already deep in sleep, which leaves me alone with my thoughts.

What would the perfect name be? Some mothers know what their baby's name is going to be whenever they set eyes upon their child for the first time. But for others, it takes a few days. So, which kind of new mother am I? what is his name going to be?

When all of a sudden it hits me like a brick wall. The name that will set him apart from every other person on the planet, except for the other people who share this name of course. I look down into his flawless face and smile. Knowing that it fits him perfectly and will fit him perfectly for the rest of his life.

"Harry. I'll name you Harry," I say as a soft giggle rises from my chest. Little Harry stirs in his sleep whenever I giggle, and I hold my breath and hope that I didn't just wake him back up. He calms back down, and I manage to get comfortable for the night without stirring him any further.

So this is what it's like to have a baby to call yours.