Scared to Death [larry a.u.]

One

Harry is scared to death.

He hates needles. He can barely breathe as his Mum holds his hand. He feels childish holding his mum's hand, but it does make him feel a bit better.

The doctor injects the needle into his arm, and he exhales shakily. Anne smiles wearily as Harry bites his lip, just imagining how he'll look with no hair.

Louis is waiting in the waiting room. He hasn't been able to come into the chemotherapy with him, so he waits for Harry to finish and takes him out to ice cream afterwards.

Once they're done, Louis stands up and hugs Harry. He rubs his back and Harry really tries not to cry into Louis' shoulder, but it's hard not to cry when everything hurts and you're tired and you just want this to end.

"'S it alright if I take him out, Anne?" Louis asks, as if he has to ask. Anne smiles and nods, kissing Harry's cheek.

"Just have him home by supper," Anne says, and Louis nods back.

♛

Harry woke up the next morning to quite a surprise.

He sits up, checking his alarm clock to find he's woken up right on time. He leans back on his hands, setting them on his pillow until he feels something strange under his fingers.

"Mum!" He practically screams, covering his mouth with his hand as he hears his mother's footsteps thundering toward his bedroom.

"Harry," His mother pants. "What's the matter?"

Harry just stares at his pillow, where locks of his curls are laying, and his mum follows his gaze. Her face falls as she walks over and sits next to Harry, wrapping him up in her arms.

"It's okay, darling," She assures, her voice trembling a bit as Harry reaches up and touches his head, feeling a spot where his hair had fell out, and he feels like he's crumbling.