new beginnings | l.s

09 | 'lonely?'

Harry spent the next few hours in a room at the local police station, he was asked so many questions.

Like so,

'How are you today Harry?'

'Why did you do it?'

'What made you do it?'

'What are you thinking?'

'Are you listening Harry?'

"Harry, are you listening?" he snapped back into reality as he looked at the officer before him, Harry nodded slowly. "Right."

"So, you don't know what made you start the fire?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow, Harry shook his head and avoided eye contact.

"And you don't know why you were so angry? Why you snapped at us?" the man asked again, Harry shook his head. It had turned into a routine over the past few hours.

The officer sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "You're a danger, Harry, to your friend and to other people. What if that happens again and no one can stop it?"

"Then no one stops it. It's just how things are, sometimes you can't stop things that are inevitable." Harry grumbled and clenched his fists at the thought of Louis leaving.

He couldn't stop that, could he?
No. No he couldn't.

"Is this where your anger is coming from?" the officer raised an eyebrow at him, leaning back.

Harry looked up towards him and glared, shaking his head again. "No. Just speaking my mind." his voice was emotionless, a soft shrug coming from his shoulders.

"Well, unless you speak up we can't help you, you'll need a higher level of care, until we can be sure you won't snap like this again." he stood up and picked up his notepad.

"What kind of help?" Harry mumbled and stayed sat down, staring at the wall.

"The kind of help you get when you aren't mentally stable." he said softly and seemed to cuff Harry without him even noticing. "Wait here a second."

So Harry waited, his face remained emotionless and his eyes flickered across the room from side to side. He was confused.

Did Louis cause this? Did Louis actually break him, or was he doing this to himself? He didn't understand what was going on.

He'd always been stable, he wasn't sick. He wasn't a monster, or a psychopath. He was sad, yes, but he didn't need to be watched over 24 fucking 7. No, he knew he didn't.

As the officer walked back in, Harry watched him. His eyes piercing through him as he moved his jaw a little. "I don't need help."

"You do, I can't deem you to not be a threat to others until I know it's 100% safe to do so." the officer said gently, looking towards Harry.

"I'm not a threat, if I was a threat I'd hurt people. Not set shit on fire." Harry leant back and tried to stand up, forgetting about the cuffs around his wrists. "Fuck."

"You need help, Harry. You had no motive, no reason, you do need help."

Surprise!
Louis' POV (sort of, not I/you, he/him.)

"Yeah, yeah, thank you." Louis got off the phone to the local takeaway and locked his phone, things had been lonely since he left. He hadn't moved on, he just couldn't handle Harry's drinking anymore.

He opened the door when someone knocked, his first assumption was that his takeaway had arrived. He was wrong, a very irritated Zayn walked inside and groaned.

"You've fucked Harry up, you really have." Zayn grumbled and looked Louis dead in the eyes. "He's depressed, he's losing his shit, he literally just set fire to his bedroom. All he's done is mope around and it's your fault."

Damn, that was unexpected.

Louis sighed and leant against the wall. "What was I supposed to do? He drank so much, I hated it." he simply replied, angering Zayn more.

"You are kidding? You could've got him help! Now he needs mental help because you left him without even a goodbye or a reason, you make me sick." Zayn raised his voice a little at the smaller boy, his anger showing clearly.

"What do you mean, mental help?" a sudden chill of fear ran over Louis as he looked at Z, gulping.

"The police took him and said they need to run tests because of what he did, they think he had a psychotic break. But he didn't he was just sad and lonely, they won't believe me." Z's voice became upset, a slight crack between words.

"A psychotic break?" Louis started to feel smaller than usual, rubbing over his own hands over and over. "Can I do anything to help?"

"What you can do to help, is convince them he's not psychotic. He was just sad, and- and give him a chance, he's not as bad as you think." Zayn was practically begging, he wanted his best friend to be okay.

"What if the tests come back with the results they suspected in the first place?"

"Then we bust him the fuck out of there."

Back to Harry.

The room had become colder, he had a sort of plaster on his hand from when they'd been doing tests. Apparently they had him hooked to a monitor, which would rise if he lied.

He'd always hated needles, and wires, but he was calm. Sort of, well, after all the kicking and shouting beforehand.

He was waiting for results, he didn't want the results to come back how they wanted them, but he had a gut feeling that they would.

"Okay, Harry." a man said as he sat down and looked at him. "I've got your results here." he said, his voice was calm and gentle.

Harry simply nodded.

"I don't know how you'll react to this, but I only ask you to stay calm. We already know you're depressed, we worked that out when we first spoke to you, but we need to know one thing; have you ever shown signs of any type of bipolar or personality disorder?"

Harry thought for a second, he thought back on all the times he'd been happy..then bored..then he'd drink, and then he'd be hyped up again.

He thought of all the times he'd been so up for doing something, and then when it came down to it he wanted to stay in bed and feel sorry for himself.

So Harry nodded, reluctantly, but he nodded.

"Well..then maybe that's the problem." the man replied and was about to speak again before the door opened and a familiar voice spoke.

"Wait, Harry-." Louis chimed in and he instantly stood up, anger quickly started to boil and rush through him as soon he saw his face.

Then, without hesitation, his fist met Louis' nose.

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