The Scientist (Larry)

Part two

Pity.

He didn't want pity.  

He wanted to go back to the darkness, where he felt okay for once.

This didn't feel right.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

He had to go back.

He had to.

He felt his body rip out of his control and his chest lurched forward. His limbs twisted against his will and he felt as if his heart were running 50 miles a second.

"He's going into shock!" Someone yelled. Harry couldn't pin the voice as he felt himself twisting in every angle possible.

He felt something stab into his arm and he went limp, still conscious of everything, but unmoving.

He felt himself be loading on to some thing and being wheeled away.

There was more movement, and a piercing siren.

He felt something cover his mouth and he wanted to protest but the minute he caught a whiff of whatever was over his mouth, he felt himself lose control and fall asleep.

-

Harry had been through two surgeries before they had brought him into his room.

So there had been plenty of time for the boys to imagine every terrible scenario that could be going on behind the doors labeled ER.

The image of Harry, pale, blue lips, weak pulse, surrounded by pools of his own blood, ghosted through their minds over and over. They were gobsmacked.

They'd never thought they'd see their friend in this condition, lying in a hospital bed, almost as pale as the stunning white sheets, with white bandages wrapped around his arms.

It made them feel sick that they could have prevented this from happening.

Especially Louis. He blamed himself more than anyone.

But, to be frank, it was his fault.

Harry was lonely.

Why?

Because Louis decided the best way to stop gay rumors was to stop talking to the boy most of the rumors were revolved around.

His best friend.

Were they still best friends? Were they even friends?

There was no way Louis could find out because now, the boy in question, was lying in the hospital bed, all because of him.

-

Harry didn't like this darkness. It was different than the other one, the better one.

This one felt, temporary. Artificial almost.

The other one was pure.

He wanted to go back there and not have to face anything or anyone.

But he knew this darkness would only last a while.

Maybe he could create his own darkness?

-

Louis sat in a corner of the rooms, head in his hands, silently punishing himself. He'd confessed to the boys what he'd done, and despite them telling him it wasn't his fault, he could see it in their eyes. They blamed him too.

Liam was on the phone with Paul trying to explain to him, in the easiest way, what happened. Paul treated them as if they were his sons.

Zayn just stood, leaning against the wall, just staring. Not at Harry though. Anywhere but Harry.