take care of me // larry au

01

It was supposed to be a joke. He was drunk - four shots and two cups of disgustingly warm beer had his head swimming -, and for some reason Zayn's ideas seem almost reasonable after a bit of vodka. But whatever, Zayn's ideas are not the point. The point is that it was supposed to be a fucking joke.

So the fact that he was being rushed to the hospital with at least one major broken bone (he knows for a fact that his knee is fucked, but he thinks his arm might be broken too), while still sort of drunk, is just plain fucking bullshit.

Someone touches his leg and Louis attempts to sit up and tell them to fuck off, except he tries to lean on his left arm, and pain explodes down the whole left side of his body and he can't do anything but feebly fall back against the stretcher and close his eyes as suddenly a wave of nausea surges over him.

He's not quite sure if that's from the pain, the alcohol or both. Actually, probably both.

He wants to blame this on Zayn, he really does. Except he kind of can't, since Zayn suggests dumb shit all the time, and it's not like Louis had to agree to attempting to skate over Liam's piece of a crap car. That had been his own choice and therefore it's his fault.

The next ten minutes were a blur of blood, pain and flashing lights. He blacks out at some point and when he woke up again he was in a hospital room, the bed more than uncomfortable underneath him and his leg and arm bandaged.

"So you're awake," someone says, and Louis struggles to open his eyes. They feel impossibly heavy and his head is still swimming. "You're on quite a lot of pain medication, in case you're wondering."

"Oh." Louis says softly. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. That would not only explain the heaviness of his head and the thickness of his tongue, but also the fact that his body doesn't hurt at all, though distantly he knows it probably should.

"Care explaining to me how this happened?" the man asks. Louis can make out the hospital scrubs and a crinkle eyed smile that is probably supposed to be welcoming and warm, but it mostly just pisses Louis off, because he hates fake people, and that smile is obviously fake.

"Didn't Zayn or Liam tell you what happened?" Louis asks. The words sound slurred even to his own foggy mind, but that apparently can't be helped.

"Yes, they did attempt to," the doctor says. "But they were both fairly intoxicated and panicking, and the only explanation I got from the two of them was jumbled and shouted at me."

Louis would roll his eyes if he could remember how to. "Got drunk, attempted to skateboard over a car, failed to skateboard over the car, fell. You know the rest."

"That I do," the doctor says, moving across the room. "If you look here-," Louis tries to, but he really can't. "you can see you've broken your left knee in several different places, and you've also fractured your tibia quite severely, and I'm afraid that nonsurgical healing will most likely not suffice."

The doctor takes long strides towards the door. "Oh, and your mother is in the waiting room, and she seems fairly displeased with you."

"Any chance you could drug me up a bit more before she gets in here?" Louis asks feebly.

His doctor laughs. "I'll send her in," he says. "And I'd get comfortable if I were you, Louis. You're going to be here for a while."

Louis groans and wishes he was still drunk.

His mum is pissed, to say the least. After the thirty minute lecture about him drinking, she spends another ten telling him that Zayn Malik is a bad influence (as if he doesn't already know), and then another five discussing his grounding after he leaves the hospital.

"No skateboarding ever again," his mother says firstly, and Louis' mouth falls open. "Don't give me that look, Louis. If I catch you on a skateboard again you will be grounded until you graduate."

"That's eight months!" Louis says, appalled. His skateboard is like his car, he needs it to get to school, home, the mall, everywhere. She can't take that away from him.

"Oh, I'm not finished yet," his mother says, smiling. "On top of that, your old curfew is reinstated. You want to spend your nights drinking and doing childish things? Fine, I'll treat you like a child. You're in by eight every night, or I call the police and they can bring you home."

"You're overreacting." Louis tells her.

"You're in a hospital bed," she points out. "You don't get a say in whether or not I'm overreacting."

Louis closes his eyes and prays that she changes her mind when she's thinking more rationally.

"And no cellphone for the next two weeks."

That is the final straw. That is his breaking point. That is a line that has been crossed.

"No," Louis says. "No, mum, seriously. I'm stuck in here for that amount of time. I'll go fucking insane in here if I don't have my phone. Come on, you can't be serious. Mum, please-"

"You can beg all you want," she tells him. "I'm not changing my mind. Not this time. This time you've gone too far, and I am done being lenient on you."

Louis doesn't even attempt to argue with her anymore. She's obviously not changing her mind anytime soon, and his mood is already pretty shitty given the circumstances. Fighting with his mum is only going to make it worse. He figures she'll change her mind anyway, eventually.

She'll see how ridiculous she's being; his mum is an intelligent, logical woman.

"I'll leave this here," she says finally, dropping a bag onto the floor. "Your clothes are in here, ad well as a few books to keep you busy. I've already spoken to Zayn's mum and he'll be getting your schoolwork for you, so don't think that just because you're hurt you'll be getting out of any of your work,"

She opens the door to the hospital corridor. "You'll have plenty of time to do it here."

"So you're just leaving me here, then?" Louis demands.

"I am," his mum says. "I'll see you tomorrow during patient visiting hours. The next few weeks, that's what you are. Have fun eating cafetaria food, dear. Perhaps that will make you think twice about drunkenly attempting to skateboard over your friend's car."