Wednesday morning – a week before his collapse
Louis awoke to the sound of Niall’s alarm bleeping incessantly. It was the kind of ghastly sound that grated your ears and made your teeth rattle. Groaning, he blindly reached out for a pillow and lobbed it in his friend’s direction. The muffled whine told him he had managed to make contact. “Switch it off!” He whined at his friend, burrowing his head under the covers to try to block out the insane noise.
It took a few long seconds but Niall eventually rolled out of bed and switched the alarm off. Louis sighed in relief at the blessed ensuing silence and closed his eyes. So… another day of craziness… woohoo! Mind you, there had yet to be a day since getting through to the live shows on X Factor that hadn’t been utterly brilliant. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t still love his bed… He shifted to try to get a more comfortable position. The mattress was making his left side feel weird. The feeling didn’t go away though and Louis sighed again, flopping onto his back. He absently rubbed the area just above his hip and mused over getting old. At 19 he was fast approaching the age of supposed maturity but surely he shouldn’t be getting muscle aches this quickly? His side wasn’t exactly sore but it felt… strange, kind of full and achy – like a stitch. It was probably just a side effect of the sore stomach he’d had these past few days – not that he’d told the boys about it. They had enough on their plates, what with these big concerts, without making them worry any further about a stupid little tummy upset. He hadn’t even been physically sick… just had a niggling pain low in his abdomen and some rather unpleasant trips to the bathroom. It was easy to cover up so long as he remained calm and cheerful and as crazy as he normally appeared. Anyway, the pain had lessened somewhat with taking regular paracetamol. Talking of which…
He sat up and at once the world started to spin. Gasping, he shut his eyes and counted to ten before opening them again. The room didn’t spin this time and he carefully lifted the covers and slid out of bed. Man, he must really be getting old if he was getting the dizzy sensation of sitting up too quickly. He was definitely not going to share that one with the boys – they’d never let him live it down.
It was quite cold this morning; the hotel carpet felt rough under his bare feet and his bare arms sprung out in goosebumps as he crossed to the bathroom. Even though the dizzy spell was over, he still felt a little unsteady on his feet but he told himself firmly to get a grip as they had a lot of rehearsing to do today.
He made a beeline straight for the sink and set about gathering up his shaving stuff. The door bounced open again and Harry stumbled in, eyes still half shut. He hip-checked Louis at the sink as he reached for his toothbrush, making Louis laugh.
“Morning curly.”
“Nuh…” Harry met his eyes in the mirror and Louis winked at him. Harry slowly grinned and then elbowed him teasingly, “hey… what you shaving for? You have like nothing growing.”
“Don’t be spreading your jealousy over me,” Louis retorted, running his fingers under his own chin with a very quiet rasp – yeah, he was no Robbie Coltrane yet but at least he had something. “Just because you haven’t got a manly hair yet...”
Harry took in a deep wounded breath and then flicked him hard on the forehead. Louis chuckled and retaliated by spraying foam on Harry’s cheek. That was it; it was on – a fight to the death. Harry got him in a headlock while Louis pushed them both against the wall as they tussled for the upper-hand.
“What are you two giggling about so early?” asked Niall grouchily, as he stomped into the bathroom with a towel. He stared at them, still tussling in play fight, “Man, you guys are touched in the head.”
“Aww,” Harry cooed, practically strangling Louis with the arm around his neck, “did ickle Niall get up on the wrong side today?”
“I don’t know what’s more unsettling. The fact that you can be so cheerful in the morning or the fact that you’re grabbing each other when you’ve both only got boxers on.”
“Well, I could tell you about the dream I had-” Louis started, grinning manically but Niall cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“Please don’t. I need coffee before that over-share.”
~*~
Wednesday Night (post collapse) 10:16 pm
The automatic doors whooshed open and the paramedics sped the trolley through to the awaiting team of doctors and nurses. The front paramedic passed over the clipboard to the nearest doctor in blue scrubs and announced as they walked,
“We have a 19 year old white male showing symptoms of medical and septic shock. Blood pressure is 80/50 and falling, respiratory rate 8/60 and slowing, body temperature 36.1 and decreasing rapidly. Although, he has no history of epilepsy, the patient suffered a seizure on-site lasting approximately two minutes and then again during transit, lasting 3.5 minutes. The patient has also sustained a minor head trauma from falling 3 feet off a platform but due to his unconscious state we cannot ascertain any symptoms of a spinal injury. The fall does not seem to be the cause of the patient’s condition either. Eyewitnesses claim he passed out first and fell off the platform as a result.”
“Blood pressure is dipping,” one of the nurses announced, as the heart monitor she’d just attached started to beep, “down to 30 beats a minute… 25… 20…”
“Patient’s going into cardiac arrest,” the doctor announced loudly to her team, “prepare a vasopressor and the defibrillator.”
“Down to 15… 10…” the nurse advised.
The heart monitor’s alarm started to ring and the doctor lifted up the paddles, “Push 1 mg of Epinephrine and charge to 200 joules please.” The nurses scrambled to do so. The doctor placed the paddles on the boy’s chest, “Clear!” Everyone stepped back and she discharged the shock. The boy’s back lifted off the bed and the alarm evened out.
“Rhythm is back up to 60 beats a minute,” said the nurse after a moment.
“Okay, let’s get this patient to the trauma room. I want blood cultures taken for immediate examination and a full biochemical analysis. Schedule an emergency MRI once we have the patient stable…”
~*~
Saturday – 4 days before collapse
“Liam, you’re still missing the beat on the second verse. Remember the bar runs twice before your cue,” Ron shouted from the stand.
Liam frowned and tapped the rhythm out against his leg, trying to get it right. Ron turned to Louis, “And Louis, you’re going to have to walk faster, you’re four paces behind the others.”
Louis nodded but grimaced inside. The weird feeling he’d awoken with on Wednesday had slowly morphed into a dull throbbing pain – that got worse whenever he walked or moved too sharply. Obviously, he’d pulled a muscle at some point but there was little he could do about it. The show must go on as the saying went.
He still wasn’t feeling all that well either and the cold air of the arena had him shivering under his hoody.
Liam turned to him and Louis could see the stress etched all over his friend’s face, “You okay?” Liam asked.
“I’m fine,” Louis shrugged; no sense in adding to the pressure when there was little anyone could actually do to help him. Time and rest and maybe some ice were all he needed – and maybe a few more hours sleep and some vitamins.
Only he didn’t get the time to rest and by Monday’s rehearsal he was in such agony that he could barely walk let alone walk in way as to avoid suspicion. The throbbing pain from his side was also starting to make him feel sick so he took a cocktail of Ibuprofen and Paracetamol before taking to the stage – just so he could concentrate on singing rather than trying not to throw-up mid verse. He rationalised that once their big gig on Wednesday at the LG Arena was over, if he were still in pain then he would see a doctor. That way he could take Thursday and Friday as rest days before the smaller gigs on the weekend. Nobody would stress so much about that. All he had to do was put up with the pain until Thursday morning and then, if need be, he could get some proper pain killers.
Unfortunately, that didn’t help him right now. As the music started he began to walk forward towards his mark. The pain in his side increased until it was pulsating sickeningly and, combined with the dodgy feeling in his stomach from taking Ibuprofen without food, he had to put a hand to his mouth to stop himself being violently sick. Unlucky for him, Ron had seen.
“Stop!” Ron called out and the music shut off. The others stopped mid-step in surprise, half a note hanging in the air. Ron jogged over and made an impressive jump up onto the stage. “Louis? Are you alright? What’s wrong son?” He asked as he made his way over.
The urge to throw-up had passed now that he was standing still but the pain remained. He could see Harry and the others making their way over out the corner of his eye and he pasted on his bravest smile – hoping he could charm the director away before the boys heard.
“Sorry, it’s nothing really,” he apologised, “I’m okay. Honestly.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing, son,” Ron replied, “you’re chalk white. Come on, sit down.”
Louis had no choice but to follow where Ron guided him and he sat down on the stage’s band platform with internal relief.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked as he approached.
“Just finding out,” Ron replied over his shoulder, “are you feeling sick Louis?”
Harry reached Ron’s side and his face morphed into genuine concern as he pressed a hand to Louis’ cheek, “Are you ill LouLou?”
Louis had a choice here; he could tell the truth about how much pain he was in and create a nightmare of panic and fuss or… he could brush it off as something a lot more trivial. One look into Harry’s worried eyes and Liam’s anxious face he knew he had to go with the latter – this was what being part of team was all about. Not letting the side down when they needed him.
“I just pulled a muscle in my side and it’s a little sore when I walk,” he replied.
Harry stepped back and crossed his arms, staring him down, his green eyes boring right into his own blue ones. Louis felt his cheeks heat up under the scrutiny. “Just how sore?” Harry asked evenly, “and don’t lie.” Louis had discovered it was hard to lie to Harry anyway. It was probably those curls – they judged him.
“Um… quite sore but,” he winced as the others groaned, “I’m okay, I just need to let the painkillers kick in.”
“Painkillers?” Ron asked sharply.
“Just some Ibuprofen.”
Ron crossed his arms too, “When did this start? Was it on Saturday, when you were running behind the others?”
“Uh…” he winced again, “yeah.”
“Jesus Christ Tomlinson! Why didn’t you tell us?” Ron roared.
“It’s only a pulled muscle!” Louis protested, “I’m fine. It just hurts when I dance and it’s already better than it was on Saturday!” He jumped defiantly to his feet, somehow able to prevent himself passing-out at the sickening feeling the movement sent to his stomach. “Don’t make a mountain out a molehill. Let’s stop wasting time and get back to rehearsing – I can handle a little pain.”
“But Louis, how are you going to-” Liam started but Louis cut across him, rather more sharply than he was expecting.
“Why don’t you worry about yourself Liam and those second verse timings. Leave me to worry about myself.”
There was a stunned moment as everyone stared at him in surprise. Yeah, maybe that had been rather harsh and out of character for him but he didn’t want them to worry.
“Okay,” Ron said slowly after a few awkward moments, “Uh… let’s take it from the beginning, yeah?”
~*~
Wednesday Night 11.29pm
The moment Bill slowed down in the hospital car park all four of them unlatched their seatbelts and jumped out – even though the car was still moving.
“Boys!” Bill yelled, swearing, “Don’t…” but it was pointless. He hit the brakes and Mark jumped out the passenger seat, following them at a run. As worried as they were about their friend, it was dangerous for them to be without a bodyguard in public. Harry and Niall raced into the Emergency Department, followed closely by Liam and Zayn. They skidded to a halt at the reception desk, panting hard, “Louis Tomlinson!” Harry shouted, “where is he?”
The woman blinked at him, not amused by his tone but Harry didn’t care and he growled again, “where is he!”
“Boys!” Julie called out from the stairwell. They all whipped around and ran over to her.
“What’s going on?” “Is he okay?” “What happened?” “Is he going to be alright?” “What did the doctor say?” “Can we see him?” They asked all at once.
Julie held her hands up, “Calm down. Look, they’re trying to stabilise him at the moment. A doctor will talk to us in a few minutes when they’re ready. Come on up to the ICU and wait with me.”
Harry felt the blood drain from his face in horror, “He’s in the ICU?” That was bad – that was beyond bad. People died in the ICU – his cousin had died in the ICU!
“Yeah honey,” Julie nodded, with a soft sympathetic smile, “he’s in intensive care.”
Harry felt his legs give out.
“Whoa,” Liam cried in alarm, catching him under the arms and holding him up, “steady Harry. It’s alright – he’ll be alright.”
The waiting room of the ICU was a modern bright space that wouldn’t look out of place in a cyber cafe. Except it smelled like a hospital and had the feel of a funeral parlour. Harry hated it on sight. Unlike the others, he did not take a seat on the plush chairs but, instead, paced up and down on the fake wooden floor. He felt sick. And scared – so scared he was trembling uncontrollably. Louis couldn’t die – he couldn’t. Harry would never get over it. He couldn’t live without Louis now… the guy was like a part of him… Louis and his ADHD tendencies… his easy laughter and endless positivity. They were brothers, a team, partners in crime… Louis and his silly hats and his effortless, amazingly warm hugs, his silly voices and very gay dress sense.
He didn’t know he was crying until Niall suddenly wrapped his arms around him and tucked him into his shoulder. Sobbing, Harry gripped his friend tight and whispered a prayer to any God not to take his friend away.
It was half an hour before a doctor came to talk to them. The moment she approached the four boys swarmed around her, asking questions in rapid fire. Julie had to whistle loudly to get them to be quiet so the doctor could actually speak.
“Hello,” said the woman calmly, “I’m Dr Howard.” She then looked at Julie. “You’re Julie Somerville?” Julie nodded and the doctor checked her clipboard, “I’ve been made aware that you have authority over Louis’ welfare in his parents’ absence?”
“Yes,” she nodded, “His parents are on their way but it’ll take them a few hours to get here. What’s the situation?”
The doctor pursed her lips and Harry held his breath, gripping Niall’s wrist painfully hard. “We’re still in the process of running tests at the moment but our initial treatment is for septic shock.”
“Septicaemia?” Julie gasped.
“Yes.” The doctor nodded, gravely. “He is displaying all the symptoms of severe sepsis.” She chewed her lip for a moment, almost like she was psyching herself up, “I have to warn you that this is extremely serious. Louis is very sick and not responding well to our treatments so far. What we really need to find out is the cause of the sepsis. Any information you can give us could help us pinpoint the origin of infection.”
Harry’s heart was pounding in his throat and he had to sit down. He had heard of septicaemia – it was something you could get from meningitis and meningitis could kill… very quickly.
“Tell me,” said the doctor, “has Louis been complaining of feeling ill recently?”
Julie looked at the boys and Liam nodded, “Not so much ill but… he pulled a muscle in his side during rehearsal last week and it’s been causing him a lot of pain.”
“Which side?” asked the doctor sharply – a little too sharply, making them all start.
“His left,” Liam stuttered.
“And has he been acting differently? Has he been sick or had diarrhoea?”
“Um…” Harry thought hard, “he’s been really tired but we’ve had a very busy schedule recently. As for being sick? I’m not sure.”
“He has been going to the toilet a lot recently,” Niall piped up with a sure nod.
And now that Harry thought about it, Louis had been going to the toilet more. He remembered breakfast that morning and Louis’s quick exit and the numerous times during rehearsal and then his quick exit from the make-up room earlier before the show. Louis had said it was just nerves. Maybe he had been sick and just hadn’t said anything for whatever stupid reason Louis always seemed to have in his thick head. That made Harry feel instantly guilty – he should have noticed anyway. Louis was his best friend and, even if Louis hadn’t said anything, Harry should still have been able to tell that his friend was sick. “He hasn’t been eating much recently either,” he added aloud, realising it was true as he said it. Sure, the breakfast this morning hadn’t been particularly appetising but, thinking about it, it wasn’t the only meal Louis hadn’t eaten. He’d barely eaten half his burger the night before, threw half of his sandwich away at lunch and nibbled one slice of toast for breakfast the previous morning. Seriously, how had Harry failed to notice this? God, he wanted to beat himself up good and proper for being so stupid.
“What about his mood?” Dr Howard asked, looking around at them all.
“Well, like I said,” replied Harry coolly, “he’s been tired. Normally he’s bouncing all over the place but he’s been very quiet these last few days. We just thought the exhaustion had finally caught up with him.”
The doctor nodded. “Okay, and, just to clarify, Louis has an allergy to Penicillin?”
“Yes,” Julie confirmed.
“Right, well that’s been very helpful. As soon as we know more we’ll come and talk to you.”
“Thanks doctor,” Julie said with a sigh.
The wait for more news was even worse than the final of the X-Factor. Harry couldn’t stop shaking. He felt utterly, utterly sick – his head imaging all kinds of horrible stuff. After the doctor had left, Liam came and sat down next to him, hugging him close. Niall sat down on Liam’s other side, joining in the hug, and Zayn sat down on Harry’s other side.
At least he had the others there, Harry thought dully, but… it still wasn’t the same without Louis to clown around with.
~*~
Thursday Morning – 1.39 am
It felt like an eternity before Dr Howard returned. Harry fidgeted through her technical diagnosis, which actually relayed as ‘they were still performing tests’. But she finished with the news he’d been waiting for. “You can see him for a few minutes.” Harry was on his feet and out the door before she had finished the last syllable.
Room 317; that was where Louis was. Harry frantically checked the door numbers, his heart beating faster and faster as they got closer. 314… 315… 316……… 317. Harry stopped and stared through the class. It was like something off TV. A stark hospital bed surrounded by machines and wires. Not caring that tears were leaking down his cheeks, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The nurse attending looked up and gave them an encouraging smile before pressing a button on one of the machines and bypassing them out the door.
As Harry timidly approached the bed and finally saw his best friend, he put a hand to his mouth and choked. He looked like a china doll.
Later, when he was able to reflect on it without ending up a complete mess, seeing Louis like that was just… surreal. He was technically the oldest of the five of them and yet he was the smallest, the slightest, the most energetic and the most youthful looking. Most of time Harry never noticed the difference in height or age because Louis was such a physical being - his personality seemed to make him a lot bigger, stronger and taller than he actually was. Lying in that bed, hooked up to those scary machines, pale, unconscious and so damned fragile, Louis looked like a ten-year old. There was a soft beeping noise from the heart monitor and a steady whoosh from the respirator but other than that the room was deathly quiet. The silence freaked Harry out as much as the sight of his friend on life support did. Louis was never this quiet – not even in sleep. He walked right up to the bed and looked down at Louis’s sleeping face. How had Harry never released how delicate Louis’s features were? His eyelashes were so long, his lips so feminine and… were those freckles dotted on his nose? Harry gaze swept downwards to the nearest hand resting on the covers. How come he had never noticed how slim and feminine Louis’ hands were before either? Mindful of the IV line going into the back of his friend’s hand, Harry gently took Louis’ hand in his and squeezed. How did his friend get to be so breakable?
“Louis?” he whispered. Louis didn’t so much as twitch – which had never, ever happened before, ever. Louis always reacted whenever Harry talked to him.
Harry shuddered and closed his eyes as Liam wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulder in comfort. Harry could feel Liam’s tears dripping onto his neck and he used his free hand to reach up and hold the back of his friend’s head, gripping his hair. Zayn and Niall took Louis’s other hand and for a moment they all stood there, just watching.
“Why didn’t you tell us… why didn’t you tell me,” Harry heard whispered in his ear and realised Liam was muttering under his breath.
“Why did you have to be so stupid and pigheaded,” Harry added, aloud and angry. Niall and Zayn looked up. “We better start making funeral arrangements because if he actually gets better then I’m going to kill him for putting us through this!”
“Harry!” The three other boys protested, aghast. But their admonishments were suddenly punctuated by a loud beep. It echoed around the room. They all stood up straight, looking around in apprehension. Zayn looked to Liam, “What’s going on?” Then an alarm started to ring. The heart rate monitor began flashing and Harry stared at it in absolute horror. No. No! NO!
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he cried, reaching forward and grabbing Louis’s hand.
“Harry,” Liam yelled, trying to pull him away.
“NO!” Harry screamed, practically shaking his unconscious friend’s arm like a rag doll, “Don’t you FUCKING DARE TOMLINSON! Don’t you DARE! I’m telling you, don’t you fucking do this!”
“Harry!”
Suddenly they were being forcefully pushed backwards by some adults as a group of doctors and nurses rushed around Louis’ bed. Harry fought against the man who was pushing back towards the door, “NO! LOUIS! Don’t! LOUIS, don’t,” he felt strong arms grip him around the waist and drag him backwards. He kicked and yelled, trying to get free.
“Harry!” Liam yelled in his ear. “We’ve got to get out the way!”
“No! Louis…” he fell backwards through the doorway, Liam only just managing to keep him upright. Harry stopped fighting and stared at the bed. The nurses were talking and unrolling wires. Harry’s vision blurred, “don’t you dare fucking leave me…” he whispered and then broke down in Liam’s arms.
Through the window, a nurse started to administer medication into the IV line. Another nurse was pulling the shirt off Louis’s chest as the doctor in blue scrubs placed two paddles on the milky white of his bare skin. “Charging to 200! Ready! Clear!” The popping sound was accompanied by a sickened crunch as Louis’s back arched off the bed. But the alarm kept ringing. The doctor ordered another shot of adrenaline. “Charging! Clear!” Louis’s back arched again. But the alarm still kept ringing. “Charging! Clear!” The alarm stopped and the rhythmic beeping noise returned. Harry and Liam sank shakily to the ground. Jesus Christ