Trapped In A Horror Movie AU (One Direction/Niall Horan) ✔

Epilogue [Niall]

--5 and a half months later--

I hobbled into Liam and Harry's shared ICU room. Both of them were lying there with their eyes closed. Harry had gotten much better in his recovery. His right calf was finally healed and in the physical therapy stage. His left leg was still in the cast, but the doctors were talking about removing it by next week. It was getting better and better each day, so he could even get rid of it sooner. His cracked arm and broken fingers were also fime as well. The internal bleeding had quit. He had one outburst a week after he was checked in, but ever since, his organs were perfect, including his lungs.

Liam was doing well also. They took off the sedatives a few days after we came in. His heart was back to working healthily again. It had quit once while he was still sedated, but once he was off them, it hadn't stopped once.

I was able to walk now, not greatly, but I had just gotten the cast off and was now in a regular hospital room. Tawni had said I could be able to go home within the next week and a half. My PTSD had gotten significantly better. Every once in awhile it would act up, but it wasn't as frequent.

"Niall, how long have you been standing there?" Harry suddenly said with a cheerful smile.

He had woken up a month after we came in, making everyone feel like a huge weight had been lifted off our shoulders. But when there was something miraculous, there was always something shitty. The police hadn't found Psychobitch, but they had found seven of our classmates dead, and only three, including Marcus, had made it out alive.

Harry had told me about the plantees and how it was just a meaningless Halloween prank. I had to forgive him. It was pretty classic, if you ask me. Harry hadn't meant for people to die. He was just trying to give us all a laugh and a little scare.

"I was debating whether or not to wake you," I replied.

"Please, it's one in the afternoon. You could've woke me up. The only people that are asleep at this time are over the age of sixty," he laughed. "I can't wait to get this cast off next week! It's so fucking itchy!"

"Well, it's about time you woke up!" a cheery voice said behind me. Both of us looked towards the door, Louis walking in wearing a jumper, pajama pants, and his black square rimmed glasses. "Last time I was here, you were out cold. You're lucky I had to come back with Zayn for physical therapy."

"I can't get used to you in glasses," I blurted. He had to wear glasses because he's been getting severe migraines from small effects of his concussion.

"And I can't get used to you in a dress," he laughed, coming over and tugging on the sleeve of my hospital gown.

"Hey! It's not a dress!" I defended.

"Whatever you say, Nialler," he chuckled.

"Where is Zayn?" Haery wondered, changing the subject.

"He had a longer therapy session today, so he should be coming up here soon," Louis told us.

We all sat there. It was just the five of us now; Harry, Zayn, Louis, Liam, and me. No more Drake and Josh. I don't think it hit is that they were gone yet. We still acted like they were just fine and out of the hospital. It would probably hit when all of us were out and back to our norml routine. Either way, I wasn't looking forward to this realization.

My mum and brother thought I was just stupid for going along with Harry's idea. They somehow just knew that a deranged serial killer was in there. My brother even told my mum how much he hated Zayn and Harry for even thinking of it and how they deserved their injuries. But it didn't bother me anymore because I knew it didn't matter what he thought. He didn't see me or the boys that often to insult them. He wouod stew about it for a few months or a year maybe, but he would eventually be overly thankful that his little brother was still on Earth.

I didn't waste my time with dwelling about him though. I was too busy worrying how my best friends were doing with their injuries. According to Gregg, we were just brainless idiots that just got lucky and outran Psychobitch. But we weren't. He liked to always think of himself of the smartest and most well-behaved son, whereas I was the stupid and reckless teenager that needed to be caged. He thought that about all of my friends. And this situation made him think that he's proved his theory. But I disagree.

We were survivors.

Not brainless idiots who were lucky.

----

The End!