"Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Yes Simon," Louis drawled for what he felt was the umpteenth time, "I am positive."

"And why can't you tell me what you are doing again?"

Louis laughed a bit, following Simon down the hallway to Harry's room while carrying the supplies he needed. It was three days after Louis had known that Harry was alive. And since then, Simon hovered him like a hawk—making sure he didn't repeat what he saw to anyone, not even the boys.

It was hard to Louis to keep this secret from them, but at the same time, Simon promised him that if he kept his mouth shut, he would be able to try and wake Harry up.

So for Louis, he was able to manage to keep his big mouth quiet.

"Because," Louis began as he opened the door to the room, "You'll think I'm going crazy."

"I already think you've gone crazy, Louis." Simon pointed out with a joking smile, which faded quickly, "I'm afraid that you are getting your hopes up too high."

Louis sighed in frustration. Of course Simon would think that. Louis really couldn't take having someone doubting him right now. It was taking everything in his being to convince himself that this would work. If he had any sense of doubt at the last minute, he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with his plan.

And he was not about to let that happen.

"Well," Louis began, "What's the world without too much hope? People need hope, Simon. Some people only rely on hope. They need something to live for."

"I know that," Simon stated, "I'm just saying…I hope you're not living only for this, where there is so much else to live for. I just want to make sure you know what you are getting yourself into!"

"Simon," Louis began, sounding a bit annoyed, "I thought you said you trusted me."

"I do—"

"Then why are you questioning me? You said I could do this. You said I could try. Please just…let me try."

Simon sighed. He hated seeing Louis, or any of the other boys for that matter, so distraught. But he had a right to be concerned:

First off, Louis hadn't spoken to anyone since he had found out about Harry being alive. He simply stared off into space, and would answer questions with a short nod or a one word answer.

Completely unlike Louis.

Secondly, this 'plan' Louis had seemed a bit dodgy to him. Why did it need to be kept secret? Why couldn't he tell him what was going on?

Thirdly, what did sleeping medications have to do with this?

"Will you at least tell me what you are going to do with that?" Simon asked pointing to the two bottles Louis was holding in his hands.

Louis frowned at the older man, not appreciating all of his questions, "If I tell you, that gives away my entire plan. And I told you I am not going to tell you that."

"Why can't you let me help you?"

Louis groaned, "Simon, this isn't really your problem to fix."

"And who says it's yours? You're 20 years old. You are an entertainer, not a doctor! You don't know—"

"Who cares if I'm a doctor? Simon, I can't…I can't keep living my life without knowing what would have happened if I had tried to wake up Harry. If I had given myself a chance to do this. So please, I beg of you, will you please leave me alone with Harry so I can get this going? I don't think I have a lot of time."

Simon sulked, letting his high tension shoulders lower themselves as he glanced at Louis. He could tell by the sincerity in Louis' eyes that Louis wasn't going to give up. He wanted to do this. Simon knew that Louis loved the boy lying in the hospital bed with everything he had. He was willing to risk everything just to see if he could wake him up. If that wasn't love, Simon didn't know what was.

And honestly, who was he to stop Louis from trying to get the person he loved to wake up?

Simon looked at Louis again and nodded, taking a few steps towards the door that led to the hallway, "Okay, Louis. Alright. I'll let you be. Just…promise me you're not going to hurt yourself, or Harry. Please, I just want you to be safe."

Louis smirked at Simon, knowing his plan could potentially break all of those promises. However, he nodded and waved at Simon.

"I promise."

"Okay. I'll be in the waiting room."

With those words and a half smile, Simon left the room, leaving Louis alone with Harry.

The older boy turned around to let his eyes graze on the boy lying in the bed, completely unaware that he was even in the room. He sighed sadly and made his way over to the bed.

He knew there was no way he was going to die. He knew that was for certain.

But he also knew that if Harry didn't wake up—if his plan failed—then really…what was the point of him even trying to be happy in the first place?

He glanced back at Harry. He knew he needed to do this. No matter what the outcome, he knew he needed to try.

On the table next to Harry's bed were all of the essentials Louis would need. He took a deep breath and let it out—it was now or never.

He walked slowly over to the side table, looking down at the small bottle of sleeping pills and the liquid cold medication that sat next to the bottle.

He groaned. Yes, he knew he'd have to be completely knocked out if he wanted this to work. He'd have to be completely numb—so that way no outside force could wake him.

Just like no outside force was able to wake Harry up.

Louis looked from the table to Harry, and allowed himself to stare at him for a few more moments.

God, he was so beautiful.

He was…such a peaceful sleeper.

Louis leaned across the bed so he could drag his fingers down the curves of Harry's face. Harry's skin was cold, but there was also a sense of familiar warmth when Louis touched him, which caused chills to crawl up and down his spine.

"It's alright Harry," Louis whispered, "You're going to wake up." He looked Harry up and down, humming to himself.

"What's going to happen will probably be scary, but you have to trust me. I—I know you probably can't hear me right now, but I'm hoping you will trust me."

Louis exhaled softly, and let his hand run over Harry's soft curls, "Okay Hazza, I'm…I'm going to try and wake you up now."

Louis sighed and allowed himself to lay right next to Harry on the small hospital bed. He took a sharp breath and grabbed Harry's hand, letting his fingers fall easily between Harry's. Louis rubbed one of Harry's knuckles and savored the feeling of the soft skin against his thumb.

God, he had missed the feel of Harry so much. He thought he had forgotten it, but once their skin touched, the familiarity of it flooded back into him, as if it had never left.

He looked at the small cup of liquid that sat at the edge of the night table next to the bed. His eyes then dived to the two small white pills that sat next to the cup. He took another shuddering breath and grabbed the cup, looking to Harry before swallowing the small amount of liquid in one gulp. He quickly grabbed the two small pills and popped them into his mouth, swallowing them too, knowing full well that once he did, the effects of both medications would take over.

Sure enough, he felt extremely light headed and dizzy. His entire body went numb, and soon enough, he was practically paralyzed. He closed his eyes, knowing full well what would happen next.

And just like clockwork, just like he had planned, everything went dark.

Louis woke up—not in a hospital bed, but in his own dream.

He sat up, and the first thing he noticed was that he was sitting on a hard surface. He looked down and saw, just like many of the dreams before; he was sitting on the stage.

Except this stage wasn't surrounded by darkness—instead, he realized, he was in a theatre. The theatre had bronze and crimson curtains that lined the high walls, from the ceiling to the floor. The seats in the theatre were a bit larger than normal and from the height that Louis was at, he could see that they were decked out in bright red velvet. He smiled at the theatre, already feeling a sense of home as he looked out into it.

His smile somewhat faded as he looked down, noticing that hundreds of feet down from the stage was the orchestra pit. He groaned, knowing that his plan needed to go into action right away.

He would just have to find him first.

At first glance, the stage seemed relatively small; however, with every step Louis took, the stage seemed to get deeper and longer. This fact irritated Louis, as he knew the medication he took wouldn't last very long.

He continued to walk in all different sorts of directions, until suddenly, he heard a soft voice.

The voice seemed to be…humming.

Louis turned and followed the voice, and in a few moments, he realized the voice wasn't humming.

It was singing.

And Louis knew that voice could only belong to one person.

He walked towards the back of the stage, and behind the black curtain, right at the bottom, where it lifted about an inch from the floor, Louis saw a bit of light glowing. He smiled and walked towards the curtain, pulling it to the side so he could see who was behind it.

Sure enough, he grinned as he saw a glowing Harry holding a microphone in his hand, singing softly to himself,

"Nothing's fine, I'm torn."

Louis blinked at the sight before him, and realized now was the first time he had ever taken in Harry's dress attire. Currently, Harry was wearing red trousers, a dark navy blue blazer, and a white undershirt with white sneakers.

He looked incredibly simple, yet the glow that surrounded him made him absolutely stunning.

Louis shook himself out his trance and looked at Harry hard—he had a job to do, and he needed to do it quickly.

"Hazza!"

Harry looked up from his microphone and smiled at Louis, "Hi, Lou."

Louis nodded to him and stuffed his hands in his pockets, beckoning him, "Hey, let's take a walk, eh?"

"Where to?"

"Just…around. I need to talk to you." Louis finished, finally putting part one of his plan into action.

Harry looked back to the microphone and sighed, setting it back into its place on the microphone stand and following Louis out of the backstage area.

"Can you make this quick? Harry asked shyly, "I have a show." He responded to Louis' look of confusion by pointing to the theatre seats. Now, mere minutes after Louis had seen all of the seats empty, they were suddenly filling up by the second.

Louis took this as a sign—he didn't have much time.

"Look Harry," Louis began, trying to get to the point quickly, "I'm from a different world than you are. I…In my world, Harry, you…you have been dead for three months."

Louis looked to Harry to see what his reaction to his words was. However, Harry just nodded his head—as if he were taking it all in and waiting for him to continue.

"And, I've been a mess without you, Harry. So much so, that I dream about you every night. And in my dream, every night, you die—"

"I know." Harry interjected, looking down at the ground, "I know. I—I think I see you too. Well, I know I do. You're always here. I ask you to jump with me, and you never do." He said sadly.

Louis grinned unexpectedly, realizing that his suspicions were correct, "I know, and I'm sorry. But…there's a reason you can see me and I can see you. Remember, when I first saw you on the stage, you were surprised to see me?"

"Right," Harry said, his eyes lighting up at the memory, "Because I thought living people couldn't see the dead."

Louis nodded excitedly, "Exactly! See, Harry, the reason you can see me and I can see you in my dreams is because…well…you've been dreaming about me too."

"But…I thought I was dead in your world—"

Louis shook his head, "No, love. You're not dead. This entire time, you've been asleep—in a sort of coma. But you still dream. And you dream of me—of us."

Harry nodded slowly, letting out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He chuckled and shook his head,

"So does that mean I'm sleeping? And…right now…we are…in a dream?"

Louis hummed, "I believe so, yes."

"So this whole time…we've been at…different ends of our dreams? Of time?" Harry asked.

"Precisely." Louis agreed.

"Okay, if that's the case, whose dream is this? Yours or mine?"

Louis shrugged and looked down, before looking Harry in the eyes, "I think…I think it's ours."

Harry smiled faintly, "So instead of being at different ends…we are in the same space of time?" He couldn't help but smile at his next words, "Together?"

Louis nodded with a small grin and let out a sigh of relief, "Yes."

Harry smiled, but his look turned to one of suspicion, "But wait…how are you even here then? This isn't a fairy tale, how are we both in the same dream?"

Louis chuckled, finding the words he was about to say completely cliché, yet at the same time, he couldn't help but believe it, "Because I'm in love with you. And I…I think our souls—our beating hearts—are connected in some powerful, indescribable way." He paused. "I've…I've always known I loved you, Harry," Louis confessed shyly, "And I know now what it's like for you to be gone. And—and I want you back to I can be able to show you how much I love you. But I want to show you when you are alive. I want to tell you for real."

The younger boy smiled to himself and he found he couldn't stop his lips from turning upward. He looked to Louis as he spoke, "I love you too, Lou. More than anything in the world."

Louis grinned in response and took one of his hands, and Harry squeezed it. Harry looked down at their entwined hands and frowned, still noticing the brightness that surrounded his hand and his body,

"If I am still alive, then why am I still glowing? You are alive and you aren't glowing." Harry pointed out.

Louis sighed sadly, "That just means we don't have much time left."

Harry shot him a confused look and Louis continued, "I think the glowing means you…don't have much time left to live…in my world."

Harry frowned, "Oh."

"Yes, but, I have an idea. You just have to trust me."

"I do trust you." Harry said simply, without any hesitation.

"Okay, then follow me." Louis grabbed Harry's hand and guided him to the edge of the familiar stage. He looked down and gripped Harry's shoulders, looking him square in the eye,

"We are going to jump Harry, and we are going to do it together."

Contrary to what Louis thought, Harry gave him a worried look and stumbled away from the edge of the stage, "N—no, I don't want to jump!"

Louis shook his head and grabbed Harry's hands, "Look, I know it's scary—"

"Scary?" Harry exclaimed, "It's more than scary, it's terrifying! I know I make it seem okay, but it's not Louis. I don't want to go again. I don't. And I don't want you to go either."

"Look at me, Harry. Listen to me," He forced Harry to look into his eyes by letting his finger tilt Harry's head in his direction, "I know you're scared. So am I. But I know this will work. The reason you keep coming back and not dying in my dreams is because I never went with you. You always went alone. You need me. And I need you. If we both jump…I think…I think I can get you to wake up."

"I don't think—"

"Harry, when I was little, I used to dream of falling a lot. And when I would wake up screaming, my mum would come in and tell me what if I was ever falling in a dream, I would wake up before I ever reached the ground. Don't you see? We are in a dream! If we fall—"

"We'll wake up before we hit the ground?"

"Yes!"

Harry blinked and shook his head,

"But if that's true, how come I haven't woken up whenever I jump?" Harry asked, confused.

"Because I never went with you. If what I believe is correct…I think you need me to jump with you in order for you to wake up."

Harry gave him a half smile, "Why do you think that?"

"Because I am alive. I wake up every morning and go to sleep every night. You've just been sleeping. And also, because we are connected here," Louis said breathily, pointing to his heart, "I think we need to be together in order for you to wake up."

Harry exhaled and gripped Louis' hand again, looking down at it regretfully, "But what if—what if you're wrong?" Harry whispered, "What if we jump, and you don't wake up. What if neither of us do?"

Louis hummed to himself and respired, squeezing Harry's hand as he gazed into his eyes sincerely, "Well, that's a risk I am more than willing to take for you."

Harry nodded quickly, noticing the brightness surrounding him was growing larger and larger. It was so large, that now it was almost taking over Harry. So much so, that Harry was starting to become the light.

"Lou, I think we need to do this now."

Louis nodded and dragged them both to the edge of the stage. They both simultaneously looked down to the orchestra pit, and then out to the audience. Louis studied them for a moment, wondering why they were all staring at them, in complete silence.

"They are waiting for me to go on," Harry said, as if he were reading Louis' mind, "I don't know if I want them to see this—"

"Oh why not?" Louis said, trying to make a joke out of it, "An audience always makes you more confident, isn't that what they say?" Louis asked.

Harry laughed out loud and shook his head, "Who would ever say that?"

"Dunno, just trying to lighten to mood!"

Harry chuckled, "Well it certainly worked for a moment," He looked down at the ground again, fear settling in again, "I can't believe I am going to do this," He muttered to himself, preparing himself for the worst. For what he knew would happen to him if Louis' plan didn't work.

Louis took a deep breath and gripped Harry's hand harder, noticing the glowing was only getting brighter and larger,

"Harry, are you ready?"

Harry nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing heavily, "Yes."

"Alright, on my count of three." Louis said, giving Harry a cautious look.

"Okay." Harry whispered, wincing.

"One…Two…" Louis announced.

"…three." Harry said, squeezing his eyes shut tighter in anticipation.

And together, clutching each other's hands, they jumped.

Louis's eyes shot open as his body jerked, causing him to wake up.

He took in his surroundings quickly; the uncomfortable mattress of the bed, the cold air that filled the room, the white walls that surrounded him.

Yes, he was in the hospital room, holding Harry's hand and lying next to him.

Harry.

Louis sat up and turned to look at Harry, whose eyes were still closed. But his chest rising and falling rhythmically proved he was still breathing.

"Harry?" Louis whispered, letting his fingers caress his cheek.

"Harry, Harry wake up. Please wake up."

Harry didn't move. He just kept breathing, and his chest continued to rise and fall in time with his breaths.

Louis' heart shattered, and he was convinced it was so loud the patients down the hall could have heard it.

So it didn't work. His plan didn't work.

He couldn't take it anymore—the stress, the pain. He let his body collapse on top of Harry, and he started to cry.

"Harry, Harry, I am so, so sorry. I—I thought—I thought it would have worked—I—" Louis couldn't finish his words, for the sobs continued to roll out of his throat. He let his head fall to Harry's chest, and he clutched his gown, letting himself cry.

Suddenly, the rhythm of Harry's breathing changed slightly, and a sound other than Louis' sobs could be heard,

"Thought what would have worked?"

The voice was barely above a whisper, but Louis could recognize it anywhere; it was a voice he had been longing to hear for the past three months, the voice that had haunted his dreams for the same amount of time.

Louis looked up at Harry, and saw that he was blinking, and his eyes were wide with confusion and excitement.

Louis continued to gaze at Harry until all of the sudden; the largest beam broke onto his face. And before long, Louis started laughing—it was as if he was going mad.

After all of the months of suffering and dealing with the fact that his best friend and the boy he loved was dead, he couldn't believe that same person was blinking his eyes open and talking as if nothing had happened.

The younger boy smiled at Louis for the first time in three months, letting a small laugh escape from his throat.

"What…what are you on about?" Harry asked, and Louis couldn't describe the sensation he felt after he heard Harry speak.

Louis shook his head and smiled running his fingers through Harry's hair as he spoke,

"Nothing, Hazza," Louis laughed again, gripping Harry's hand and letting his thumb run smooth circles over his skin. Louis felt as though the weight that was holding his heart down was lifted, and he felt like he could breathe again. He felt like he was finally living again,

"Nothing at all."