Sorcery (Louis Tomlinson)

xxxix. Recovery

We sped through the night, Dad's truck quickly reaching the cabin in record time. Louis wasn't moving his hurt arm at all, his head resting on my lap and his eyes closed as he laid across the back seat.

"Shh, it'll be okay." I promised him, gently running my fingers through his hair. His eyes opened when he felt the truck stop, Dad and I helping him get out of the truck and inside the cabin. Nox would probably know we were back here, but we didn't have anywhere else to give Louis the immediate medical attention he needed without being found out he was different from Terrans.

Dad worked quickly, clearing our small kitchen table with a swift motion of his arm and laying Louis on it. The objects that had been on the table crashed to the ground, but no one paid them any attention. Louis needed help right now.

Louis hissed through his teeth as his hurt shoulder made contact with the table surface, his pretty eyes scrunched up in pain, knuckles pale white as he gripped his hands into fists. He groaned and winced as Dad took his hurt arm and slowly moved it around, testing his shoulder.

"It's dislocated, we gotta pop his shoulder back in place." He muttered, making my heart sink. Louis never should have gotten hurt in the first place, and now here he was, suffering from Marissa's wrath.

Dad's gaze fixed on me next, his eyes catching sight of my hand brushing through Louis' hair to try and distract him from the pain.

"Mira, step away. You can't touch him when I do this." Dad told me, his hands on Louis' hurt arm ready to fix his shoulder.

"Why not?" I asked, Louis releasing another moan of pain as his suffering only got worse.

"Your talent will stop me from popping his shoulder back in place because it'll cause him pain. Don't touch him until it's back where it should be." Dad ordered, my hand removing itself from Louis' hair, my eyes seeing Louis open his eyes to look for me.

"It'll be alright, I'm right here." I assured him, Louis' dazed eyes never looking away from me. His cheek was still reddened, and a cut on his forehead I hadn't noticed before continued to bleed.

"Okay Louis, I'm not going to lie to you." Dad started. "This is going to hurt a lot."

Louis didn't respond, only shutting his eyes tight in dread. I leaned over to him, whispering to try and distract him while Dad fixed him.

"You know where I would take you right now? To the meadow where we went stargazing at." I started, Louis' lips parting slightly and his eyes opening as his attention fell to me. I smiled and kept talking, noticing my Dad waiting for Louis to be completely distracted before starting in my peripheral vision.

"Y-yeah?" Louis weakly mumbled.

"Yeah. And we could spend all the time in the world there. We could just lay in the grass and I would play with your hair and we could tell each other stories an-" I kept talking, but was silenced by Louis' cry of pain as my father abruptly popped Louis' shoulder back in place. My hand immediately held his once I received the nod from Dad, my eyes watching as the protective gold runes from my arms spread and swirled onto Louis' skin.

Louis was still in pain as my father sat him up to place his shoulder and arm in a sling to keep it still, but he tried his best not to show it. The cut on his forehead still trickled with blood, and after helping Louis move to the couch, I went to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of water and a small towel to clean him off.

Louis was laid on the couch, Dad going into his room to grab an old sleeveless t-shirt and basketball shorts for Louis to change into. I placed the bowl of water and towel from the kitchen on the coffee table, my hands grabbing the t-shirt and tugging it over Louis' head, using the gentlest touch to guide his hurt arm through the cut sleeves. Louis insisted he could change out of his jeans by himself, Dad coughing awkwardly and looking at me. I glared at him, watching as he went to his bedroom for something. I rolled my eyes at his immaturity, taking Louis' jeans and folding them on the coffee table as he pulled the basketball shorts on and sat back down on the couch. Just then, Dad returned with a wooden box in his hands, setting it down on the table.