"Stay," Harry whispers desperately, pressing his lips to Louis' temple like he can somehow ease the pain that's blooming there, but he can't make the pain stop and no matter how hard he tries he can't make Louis stay.
-
{not my story}
COMPLETED
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•••
It's a Tuesday when the other boys find out.
"Do you want to tell them?" Harry asks softly, knocking their knees together and Louis bites his lip, thinking. He doesn't think he can.
Finally, Louis shakes his head because he doesn't trust his voice. Liam, Niall, and Zayn stare at him worriedly from the couch. The couch is more of a love seat and is really too small for all three of them to be sitting on it, but they don't mind. He knows they'd make him and Harry come sit as well if he hadn't insisted sitting with Harry instead. He thinks if he gets any closer to them he'll break.
"Okay. So me?" Harry clarifies, tilting Louis' chin up so he can look him in the eyes. Louis merely nods, almost positive he's about to be sick again and pressing his face into Harry's shoulder.
Harry takes a long, deep breath, taking Louis' hand in his before saying simply, "Louis is sick."
And then they're all talking at once. What kind of sick? Is he going to be okay? Has he seen a doctor yet? Does he need to go to the hospital? Is he not going to be able to come to America for promo? Is it serious? Louis almost rolls his eyes, wants to say Of course it's serious, you idiots. He doesn't, though, because they don't need that right now.
"'M dying," he squeaks out pathetically, immediately reaching for Harry and putting his face in his lap, thinking that if he just stays here until they leave he can avoid the worst of it - their ugly, horrified expressions, the pity in their eyes. He doesn't want pity. It's embarrassing.
And he can hear everyone talking at once but his brain refuses to turn their words into anything but rambling, and all at once their hands are on him, stroking his face and running through his hair and tugging him up to look at them and Liam is first, wrapping Louis tight in his arms and Louis is reaching around to hug him back, feeling safe and very, very sad suddenly as Niall reaches under Liam's arms to pull Louis close and Zayn waits patiently behind them, not wanting to overwhelm him and fuck, Louis loves them.
He feels warm and happy and loved, so, so loved as Zayn pulls him into a hug, rubbing his back and whispering nonsense into his ear and he's pretty sure Niall is holding his hand. Fuck, he's not ready to leave his boys.
Not now, not ever.
One Direction goes on a hiatus after the release of their new album. It's a video, only about a minute long, and they're all smiling to the point where it's painful, giving thumbs up and promising We'll be back soon. The status of next year's tour is still unknown.
"You should go, you know," Louis tells them quietly, head resting in Harry's lap. They're all sitting cross-legged on the carpet in front of Louis and Harry. "Do the tour. And music. More music."
They all come to the unanimous decision that no, they won't be doing any of that. "Not without you," Harry says roughly, voice deathly low. "Never without you."
Louis feels like crying, because they can't just end One Direction just like that because of him. They're supposed to go out with a bang, not a whimper. They can't just cancel the tour, because so many people are looking forward to it and they're all looking forward to it and oh god, people are going to be so angry and he can't stand the thought of letting so many people down.
"The band doesn't have to die when I do," Louis whispers, sniffling and wiping his nose with his sleeve, and just like that Niall is jumping up to wrap his arms around him, pressing his face into Louis' back.
"You are the band," Niall insists, smiling a little. "We're brothers. A team, and we're not playing without you." The headaches are getting worse.
Louis smiles through it, pretends not to notice. After their interview with Ellen, he collapses into Harry's arms backstage, pain practically immobilizing him. He falls asleep in Harry's lap on the way back to the hotel.
He cries that night when his hands are shaking so badly he can't even press the damn elevator button. He's so used to being able to fix things, patch them up and make them good as new and fuck, he can't fix this.
Louis spends all of his time in America gazing at the landscapes of everywhere he goes, memorizing faces and places because he knows he's probably never going to get to come back.
