It's Gotta be Him

Not a Movie Style Girlfriend...

Cat let out a shaky breath and jumped out of the car. Gabbie had fallen into a light sleep in the last ten minutes of the car ride and Niall had picked her up princess style and gotten out of the car, Liam helping him with Gabbie. Cat looked down at her friend. "Don't wake her up yet, until we know whats happened."

The boys nodded silently and followed Cat across the tiny highway and into the ER of the hospital. Cat ran up to the desk, a desperate look on her face. The nurse smiled up at her for a moment, before jumping up and enveloping Cat in a hug.

"Cat, sweetie, what's happened?" Bobbi asked, giving Cat a once over to look for scars or wounds.

Bobbi was her second cousin by marriage, or something like that. Her family was so extended now that she had no idea who everyone was. "Bobbi?" Cat whispered, very aware that there were several teenage girls in the line for the desk behind her. No need for them to find out that all of One Direction were practically meters away from them. "Harry Styles? I got that call for him."

Bobbi raised an eyebrow. "Hon, I know you love the band, and I'm not sure how you found out her was here, but he is in a critical condition...."

Cat's face crumbled. "No! I did get the call Bobbi! He's in room block C and the doctor that called me was Dr. Saint-Clare. Please..."

Bobbi sighed and rubbed Cat's cheek. "Okay." She turned on her computer and tapped a bunch of keys quickly. "Up the stairs to the left in the enterence, room 27 on the third floor- ICU."

Cat sighed. "Thanks Bobbi."

Bobbi smiled and grabbed Cat's hand before she could run away. She pulled her in close and whispered in her ear, "If you're actually not ment to be up there, I was not the one who told you where he was, okay?"

Cat grinned. "Okay." Ripping her hand out of Bobbi's grip, she raced back out the sliding doors and into the cold night air. The boys were huddled against the wall, Gabbie now in Louis arms. "Lets go." Cat called to them as she hurried past.

They kicked off the wall, eager to follow her. Racing up the stairs, Cat told Louis which room and floor so he could take the lift with Gabbie still asleep in his arms. Cat was the first one to burst into the room  and what she saw made her want to curl into a ball and cry.

Harry's face was swollen and bruised, a cut running parrallel to his hair line across his forehead. It had been stitched up, and blood was still seeping from the dressing that had been placed over it. One of his arms was bandaged tightly against his chest. Nothing else seemed to be broken or that bad, except for the tons of bruises that dotted his chest and face. 

Cat looked away as the rest of the boys and Louis and Gabbie tumbled in.

Gabbie had been silent ever since she had woken up. She hadn't moved from Harry's bedside, even when he'd gone in to have surgery on his hand. Dr. Saint-Clare, who turned out to be 23 and super-model gorgeous, had explained all of Harry's injuries carefully.

Four cracked ribs, split lip, deep cut running the length of his forehead; but his hand, his hand was the worst. Dr. Saint-Clare said that whoever had done this to his hand, hand known what they were doing and they were really trying to hurt him. They'd shattered his bones completely, until they were basically a paste from his Shoulder blade to the edge of his collar bone and then halfway down to his elbow. Dr. Saint-Clare said that the bones would take a very long time to heal, and that Harry would never have full use of that arm ever again.

Cat thought that perhaps, Gabbie had just gone totally numb with the knoweldge that Harry had been attacked as he was walking home from the bottle shop that night. That some people had intentionally tried to cause him harm. Cat was pretty sure that that knowledge hit them all the hardest.