Rescue Me (Louis Tomlinson Fan-Fiction)

Louis and Elliot were foster siblings at one point in time. now they are living separate and opposite lives. what happens when they meet again? and what happens when Elliot's parents reappear?

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3. Chapter 3

            I’m sitting alone on my couch at 10:00 A.M. when my phone buzzes; it’s an unrecognized number.

            #: hey this is Louis.

            E: Heya.

            I add his number.

            L: Are you busy?

            E: not really, why?

            L: maybe we could get together for lunch? :3

            E: Sure where do you want to meet?

            L: how about your place?

            E: ok here is the address: 1643 Midtown Way, building 16, apartment B.

            L: I’ll be there soon!

           

 

--

 

 

            I’ve just strained the pasta when someone knocks on my door. I set down the bowl of elbow macaroni and open my creaky door and see a smiling Louis.

            “Come on in.” I say. He steps inside and shuts and locks the door for me. He's wearing a gray T-shirt with bright red jeans he has a white hoodie thrown over his shoulder.

            “What's for lunch?” he asks.

            “Macaroni and cheese, and hot dogs.” I say cheerfully.

            “Sounds delish.” He says with a small laugh.

            “It’s my specialty.” I laugh. He wanders into my adjoined living room and looks out the dirty window. I mix the cheese powder, butter, and water into the pasta and take the hotdogs out of the oven. I get two plates from the cupboard and set them on my worn dining table. I grab the bowl of macaroni and cheese and place it on the table. I set the hotdogs down next. “Lunch is ready.” I say. I hear silence so I wander to the living room and see him still staring out the window with a somber expression. “Lou?”

            “Oh, hi, yeah I heard you, sorry.” He says and forces a smile. He sits down at the table and I sit across from him. He grabs two hotdogs and I scoop some macaroni onto my plate. Then we switch.

            “Are you okay?” I ask.

            “Um, yeah, I just kinda have something to tell you, something I should have told you the other day.” he looks up at me.

            “Ok?”

            “It was last year, about six months ago, your parents, they contacted me.” he says.

            “What? You have to be kidding me.” I honestly don’t believe him.

            “I’m not kidding. They called me looking for you.” His face remains serious, he must not be joking.

            “Why would they call you?”

            “They couldn’t find you. You…well you “dropped off the face of the earth”. They looked for Arnold and Morena and that led them to me.” he says. I raise a shaking hand to my face and put in instantly back into my lap.

            “I don’t know what you want me to say.” I say quietly.

            “I don’t know either.”

            “I can’t…they, they.” I stutter then shut my mouth.

            “Tell me what’s wrong.” He looks so concerned, I almost consider telling him.

            “No. Just no. I can’t it’s my biggest secret.” My hands find my temples and I stand suddenly, upsetting the table. He steadies the table as I pace around the kitchen.

            “You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” He says. I back against the wall and slide down to the floor.

            “I…he…” I squish my eyes shut. The memory is literally hurting my head. He stands slowly from the table and gets down on the floor, he crawls over to me. “He…he killed my baby girl.” I say quietly as I try to shut the horrible memory out.

            “Your…baby girl?”

            “My younger sister, Emma. He beat her. He beat me too. But that day was different.” My eyes aimlessly roam the room.

            “You don’t have to tell me, Elliot.” He says kindly.

            “I think I do.” I say as the tears start. “I was angry at her. I can’t even remember what she did, but I was angry. And my father came home; he had had a bad day at work. Emma spilled a glass of milk in front of him. And he lost it.” I bury my head in my knees and try to breathe. “She already had a concussion. He beat her into a coma. She never came out of it.” I quickly finish and begin to sob violently.

            “Have you never told anyone this?” he rubs my back gently.

            “No!” I cry. “It’s all my fault.”

            “No, no! It is not your fault.” He says.

            “I could have protected her. But I didn’t. Because I was angry. I figured he wouldn’t hurt her very bad. He almost never went for her. Just me and my brother.”

            “Elliot, this is not your fault.”

            “Yes it is.” I look up at him and see that he has tears in his eyes.

            “This was your father’s fault!” I shake my head and continue to sob. “Elliot, look at me.” he says and I obey. “This wasn’t your fault.” A lone tear rolls down his cheek.

            He wraps me in his arms and we cry together.

 

 

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