Chapter Text
“Okay, guys, this one’s big,” Penelope Garcia began as she addressed the room, her face pale with severity.
“Haven’t they all been pretty big?” Derek Morgan said with a raised eyebrow.
“When I say big I mean, like, big. As in, boyband big.” The agents in the room leaned in, Morgan’s smug look dropping. “Ladies and gentlemen, I need you to put down your coffees and take a deep breath,” Garcia said, her voice laced with an urgency that sent a ripple of tension throughout the room, “this may be the biggest case we’ve ever taken.” She turned to the screen, pressing a button on her remote.
A photo of a young man, smiling and bright-eyed, flashed across the screen. Then, a different image: grainy security footage of him stepping off a tour bus and walking off into the night. Then, nothing.
“Louis Tomlinson, 21 years old, international mega-popstar and member of the biggest boyband on the planet, took a step out of his tour bus, and vanished into thin air last night.“
“Wait, Tomlinson?” Rossi asked, face in a frown. “As in, One Direction Louis Tomlinson?” The group looked at him quizzically. “What? I listen to the radio.”
“Anyway… The band is currently on tour, and they were in DC for their sold-out final show of the tour at the Verizon Center. At approximately 1:14 AM, Louis exited the tour bus alone, after what sources describe as a heated argument with fellow band member Harry Styles. “ She clicks her remote again. Another video flashes across the screen: security footage of Harry and Louis silently arguing heatedly, Louis throwing his hands in the air and storming out the door, and Harry slamming his fist into a wall on the inside of the bus and pacing around, clearly frustrated. “He never returned.”
Another image flashed across the screen: a shattered iPhone in a red case.
“His phone was found discarded in an alleyway three blocks from where he was last seen.”
“That’s a terrible sign,” Morgan muttered. “Sounds like foul play.”
Garcia nodded grimly. “Police have no leads. No ransom note, no confirmed sightings… nothing.”
“No ransom note?” Dr. Spencer Reid asked with his brow furrowed. “That’s highly odd, especially for such a high-profile victim.”
“Whatever happened, someone didn’t want him coming back,” David Rossi nodded.
“Funny you should say that…” Garcia said with a hesitant expression, before clicking her remote once more with a sigh. The security footage of Louis walking off the bus and into the parking lot plays, then suddenly goes dead. “At precisely 1:18 AM, the camera footage goes silent. Absolutely nothing, for 28 minutes. It’s gone, and so is he.”
“What?” Emily Prentiss sighed. “So somebody’s tampering with evidence, this was no runaway.”
Aaron Hotchner folded his hands on the table. “What about the other members of the band?”
“They’re being questioned, but here’s where it gets a bit messy.” Garcia clicked, and a new slide appeared: an article with the headline, “Where is Louis Tomlinson? Fans in Uproar Over Missing Star!” Beneath it, photos of hysterical fans crying outside the hotel, candlelight vigils forming in multiple cities.
“The band’s management is trying to control the narrative, but fans are relentless. Social media is already flooded with theories, from simple runaway scenarios to full-blown conspiracy theories about said management hiding him. The hashtag ‘#FindLouis’ is trending worldwide.”
“Jesus,” JJ murmured, flipping through the photos of the crowds.
“Which brings us to Harry Styles,” Garcia said, her tone shifting slightly. “He was the last person to see Louis before he disappeared, but he’s not talking. Like, at all. He’s shut down, refusing to cooperate beyond basic details. And their argument? Witnesses say it was serious. Screaming, possibly physical. Some reports claim Harry was crying and inconsolable, but again, nothing is confirmed. What is confirmed, however, is that their management has put their PR team into overdrive, and they’re not letting anyone near the band unless they control the interview.”
“So what are they hiding?” Rossi mused.
“That,” Hotch said, standing up, “is what we’re going to find out. Wheels up in 30.”
~*~
The conference room at the office was cold and sterile. The BAU had set up their temporary base here at the DC FBI field office, and the members of One Direction had been brought in for questioning.
“So, Garcia wasn’t kidding about those ‘screaming fangirls’, huh?” Morgan asked, his eyes wide as he and Rossi looked out the window of the building. The entire place was surrounded by a crowd of screaming, crying, anxious people, mostly teenage girls. There had to be hundreds of them.
“I’m telling you, these boys have an army. Can you imagine being 19, 20, 21, having the entire world at your feet?” Rossi mused.
“The pressure they’re under… No wonder they’re all so stressed out.” Morgan looked through the window. “Some of those girls are holding signs… ‘Find Louis’... ‘Save Our Boy’... ‘Larry is Real’? Who the hell is Larry?”
“Not who, but what,” said Reid, peering out the window at the girls. “‘Larry Stylinson’ is the ‘ship’ name given by the fans to Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson. ‘Ship’ being short for relationship.”
“So they think they look cute together, or something like that?” Prentiss asked.
“According to the thousands of tweets I combed through this morning, it’s way more than that.” Reid interjected. “ You see, ‘Larry’ is kind of a shorthand for the belief that Harry and Louis are secretly in a romantic relationship with each other, which they’re being forced to hide from the world by their management. The fans write fictional stories about them being together, create art, some of them even write college-level essays detailing all their ‘proof’.”
“That kind of behavior is not unlike some of the guys we’ve hunted down ourselves. These girls are crazy,” Morgan sighed.
“Maybe, but maybe not,” Reid countered. “Maybe there’s a reason Harry’s not talking. If the theories are this intense, there might be something going on behind closed doors. It’s going to be difficult to get Harry to open up, but it could give us some more insight.”
Hotch stood, springing into action. “Reid and I will talk to Harry, we need to know what that fight was about. JJ, speak to Liam and Niall privately, they were the only ones on the bus when the fight happened. Prentiss, you talk to Zayn, he was the last person to see Louis since he was outside the bus smoking when he stormed off. Morgan and Rossi, talk to the police at the station, see if they may have missed anything when they first investigated the scene. Garcia, you keep digging.”
The team nodded, understanding their assignments.
~*~
“I don’t understand, I’ve told the same story again and again.” Liam Payne looked up wearily from where he sat in the office room, sat next to his bandmate Niall Horan on a couch. “We didn’t even see where he went off to. And why aren’t Harry and Zayn in here with us?”
“Liam, I know this is difficult, but we might be able to figure out more from what you witnessed than the police can,” JJ said gently from where she sat across from them in a chair. “Zayn was outside smoking and went back onto the bus after Louis ran off, so he might have seen different things; Emily is talking to him. As for Harry…” She trailed off, looking behind them through the blinds of the office window into the main room where Harry sat, closed in on himself in a corner, as Reid and Morgan tried to convince his team to back off and let Harry be interviewed.
“I guess that’s fair,” he said quietly.
JJ nodded, giving them a soft, reassuring glance. “Now, I need you to think back: What did you hear when you two were in your bunks on the bus?”
Niall let out a heavy sigh. “I was half asleep when it started, but… Louis said something about not wanting to risk our careers for ‘this’, Harry yelling at him, then Louis calling him a selfish bastard… not an abnormal night with them. I hate when we don’t have time to get a hotel.”
“For God’s sake Niall, Louis is missing,” Liam huffed, crossing his arms and looking up to the ceiling as he set his jaw.
JJ studied their reactions. Liam was deeply concerned, protective, his thick brows furrowed in a hard line. Niall just looked exhausted, worried bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep. They were both just trying to keep it together.
“Liam, did you hear what it was that Louis didn’t want to ‘risk’?”
The singer looked up at her eyes, swallowing a dry lump in his throat and looking back down, rubbing his palms together and resting his elbows forward on his knees. “I…” He shook his head and groaned quietly in frustration.
“I’m sick of this. Fuck the bastards, tell them, Li,” Niall moaned in frustration, rubbing his face with his hands.
“Tell us what?”
Liam looked at Niall, then at JJ, then back at Niall, and sighed, leaning back on the couch and draping an arm over his eyes. He sat back up and ran a hand through his hair. “Look… There are things I- we can’t say.”
“Liam, do you care about Louis?”
“What?” he asked with an offended face, eyes shooting back up at her. “Are you serious? Louis is my brother! Of course I-”
“Then you need to tell me what you heard. We’re running out of time.”
Liam bit his tongue and cursed quietly, fingers clenching into the fabric of the couch. He shook his head. “You tell her, Niall.”
JJ looked expectantly at the blond, who let out a heavy sigh.
“Louis and Harry… It was more than just a fight. Could call it more like ‘trouble in paradise.’”
~*~
“Believe me, I want Louis found just as much as anyone. Maybe even more,” Zayn said in an exasperated tone. He ran a hand over his tired face, stubble apparent on his jaw, as he sat at the table across from Prentiss. “I’m telling you, all I know is Louis stormed off the bus, scarin’ the daylights out of me, and when he wouldn't answer me I got on the bus to ask Harry what the hell he did.”
“Were these kinds of fights typical for Louis and Harry?” Prentiss asked. “Did you notice anything different from previous incidents?”
Zayn was quiet. He looked down at the table, fidgeting with his hands.
“Zayn, I know your management team has made this very hard for you boys, but I need you to really think, and tell me everything. You might have seen or heard something you didn't think much of, that could give us a clue to finding him.”
He looked up at her, his brown eyes weary and bloodshot. “When Louis stormed off… He was crying. Louis never cries, not in front of us, unless something really bad happens. I think… I think he said something like, ‘I can't do this anymore.’ He was really, really upset.” He wiped his face. “That's all I know, I swear to you.”
Prentiss nodded, standing to leave the room.
“Please,” Zayn said quietly just before she reached the door. “Just find him. I need my brother back.”
“We will, Zayn. I promise.”
~*~
Harry Styles sat stiffly in his chair, his curls unruly, dark circles under his eyes. His arms were folded, and his jaw was locked in defiance. He impatiently tapped his foot, the clicking from the heel of his expensive boot echoing in the quiet room.
Reid sat across from him, his sharp gaze assessing every tiny expression, every hesitation.
“Harry,” Reid said cautiously, his voice softer than expected. “We know you and Louis fought before he disappeared. We also know that you’re afraid to talk.”
Harry’s green eyes flicked up, a flash of panic quickly masked. “I’ve already told the police everything.”
“You told them what you were allowed to say,” Reid countered. “We know about your management’s restrictions. But this isn’t about protecting an image- it’s about finding Louis. If you know anything, even the smallest detail, we need it.”
Harry swallowed hard. He wanted to speak. Reid could see it. But something- fear, anger, guilt- was keeping him silent.
Reid leaned forward slightly. “You’re angry with him.”
Harry’s eyes darkened as his gaze shot up. “What? No, I-” He stopped himself.
Reid glanced at Hotch, who gave him a subtle nod to continue.
“You think Louis left because of the fight,” Reid continued. “And you don’t want to say why you were fighting, because it’s personal. But personal might be the key to figuring out what happened to him.”
Harry remained silent, eyes trained intently on the desk before him.
“Harry, this is serious,” Hotch said with a low voice. “It’s been almost 24 hours since Louis was last seen. We need answers, and we need them now. Whatever you know, it could be the difference between Louis being found safe or not.”
The 19 year old bunched the fabric of his tight black skinny jeans on his thighs. “I didn’t-” His voice broke, and for a split second, Reid saw the raw emotion beneath the mask.
“You didn’t what?”
“I… I didn’t think he’d actually leave,” Harry whispered, almost like a confession. “He was upset, yeah, but he wouldn’t just-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
Reid’s eyes narrowed. “Harry, were you and Louis ever… involved?”
Harry flinched, a near-imperceptible reaction, but it was enough. Reid already knew the answer.
And now, he knew why Harry wasn’t talking.