Praise the Mutilated World

Chapter 7

HARRY

At the end of each day, Harry had to fill out a questionnaire that asked how many times he'd had sex with Louis.

It was a nightly ritual that stopped feeling as strange and invasive as it was as the days went on, but he knew better than to tell Louis about it.

It started after Louis' meeting. The omega still hadn't told him exactly what happened in that office, but every time he brought it up the way his skin would pale and the smile on his face would stretch into a concerning fake-assurance made him stop asking.

He didn't like to think about what they could have done to him, but the other part of him knew how bad it could get. He'd heard the stories from his coworkers, of defectors and traitors who ALL tortured for weeks on end.

As much as he doubted that was anything even close to what they would do to Louis, he knew it was possible, and in some ways, that was enough.

He checked off the box for two times that day, signing his name at the bottom before sending it off to the head office for review.

At the beginning, the little surveys made him uncomfortable, but they reminded him what they were working towards. The life that they were trying to make together. But as it went on, it felt more like the process of making a family wasn't just for them, anymore.

He knew the process of having a child was an involved one.

He'd seen how much it involved the first time Zayn and Liam had been pregnant, especially with how difficult their pregnancy had been. He'd taken Zayn to the hospital a few times when Liam couldn't make it because he was out of town for work and watched as he was forced to fill out pages and pages of questions and concerns before a doctor was able to see him.

He wanted Louis to have their child.

Of that much, he was certain.

But there were times when it was hard to feel happy about the process when it felt so regulated.

It took him back to when he'd gone into the clinics every month. How sterile and regulated it felt even when he'd been told he was fertile. Something he'd wanted his entire life and it was all stripped down to an assignment of a mate and a change of a color on his bracelet.

"We should get to bed, love," he said, snapping himself out of his thoughts as the lights shifted down another level. The clock turned to eleven right as the blinds slowly closed on their own.

"Mm, I'm comfortable though." Louis' eyes were closed, a throw blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"What if I carry you?"

"I guess that could change my mind." He cracked open a single eye as Harry stood up, stretching out a crick in his neck before picking him up bridal style. "You're lucky you're cute. I've never let anyone carry me before."

"Oh, and it's because I'm cute? Not because you're too lazy to climb the steps?"

"Exactly. You're pretty slow at coming to conclusions for such a smartie."

"I love you so much," Harry snorted a laugh as he carried Louis to the bedroom, a smile on his face.

**

The days slowly bled into weeks, and then it was winter again.

Parts of Harry started feeling that desperation that he knew Louis felt, the fear of losing him over a pregnancy not taking grew stronger inside of him as time went on.

He knew the consequences if Louis didn't get pregnant, and they sat heavy on his shoulders, a constant and aching presence.

He knew everything would be fine somehow. But it didn't stop the anxiety from wondering how they would get there.