4 years later
Things had changed so much over the past few years Liam reflected, staring down at the picture of the five of them at Louis’s 21st birthday dinner. Not only had they all physically changed from teenagers into young men but the dynamics of their friendships had changed too. He wished it had all been for the better. Most things were, Liam was having the time of his life, but he couldn’t say the same for all his band mates.
He ran his finger over the young photographic faces fondly. The person to have changed the most, physically, had to be Niall, hands down. The amount he had transformed in four years was startling. No longer was he a bleached blond, crooked teethed teen with the undefined body of a 15-year-old. Now, Liam smiled warmly, touching the face of the then 19-year-old Niall, he was almost as tall as Harry; with a lean wiry body honed from hours of dance practice. His hair was short again and only had a few blond highlights – which made it look natural and gorgeous. His face was also more defined from the exercise, revealing gorgeous chiselled cheekbones. His teeth had been completely transformed too - into a totally knee-weakening smile. Yeah, Liam was ridiculously enamoured by his boyfriend. He was well aware of the fact – mainly because the others continued to tease him about it.
Sure, Niall hadn’t completely changed; he still had his strong Irish accent and was prone to blushing and laughing at everything but those were some of the things Liam loved the most. In his opinion, Niall was now the best looking of the band – but he might be a little biased. Although… he had seen wars break out on Twitter between the fans as to who was the better looking between Niall, Harry and Louis. While Liam would concede that Harry was incredibly handsome for a guy, especially now that he’d shaved off that ludicrous moustache, he honestly did find Niall the more attractive of the two, which was a good thing!
Zayn was the one who was now at the mercy of fan outcry – his sleek black ponytail was hated by a vast majority of the girls. Liam agreed – it made Zayn look sleazy.
Louis had changed a bit too; he was as lean and fit as ever but there was a softness about him now – a fragile – almost feminine edge which drove the girls and guys wild. Only, Louis wasn’t into that sort of attention any more – if he ever truly had been in the first place. He was quieter, almost hiding behind that impossibly feathered fringe – shy and sweet like Liam had been at the start of it all. Liam would have worried about this change had it not been for the fact they all seemed to have swapped personalities somehow. Louis seemed to be a cross between the old Liam and Niall; Niall seemed to be a cross between the old Louis and Zayn (so hot and full of life); Liam, himself, was a cross between the old Zayn and Niall (confident in his relationship but bound to fits of blushing); Zayn seemed to adopted Harry’s cheeky and dirty persona and Harry… Harry seemed to have morphed into someone even more angstier than Liam had been at the height of his most depressive spate.
That brought him neatly to the dynamics of the band. He stared down at the photograph; in it, Louis and Harry had their arms around each other – Harry’s head resting on Louis’s shoulder, whispering something and Louis looking down at him, laughing. They looked completely enamoured with each other. Beside Louis sat Niall, laughing at something Zayn had said. Liam was in the middle of the two, looking at Niall but leaning more towards Zayn. It was weird to remember how shy and awkward Niall and he had been with each other at that time. Only just starting their journey together. Looking at the photo, if he were an outsider then he would have predicted that Harry and Louis would have been the most likely candidates to be the band’s long-term couple. He would never have guessed it would be himself and Niall.
Carefully, he slid out one of the most recent photographs of the five of them together from the new pack and laid it next to the older one.
Yeah, it really was amazing how things changed. This particular photo had been taken two weeks ago at Rebecca’s wedding reception. The five of them were sat around a table – along with some of their other friends. Liam, himself, was standing behind Niall’s chair, draped all over his boyfriend’s shoulders and smiling in a ridiculously sappy way. Niall’s arm was reaching up to hold the back of his head, automatically pulling him closer even though he was mid conversation with Aiden. It always amazed Liam how good he and Niall looked together these days – like they grew to compliment each other.
Zayn was sprawled back in the booth with his arms around his girlfriend (of almost two years), Myra. Zayn was chatting lazily to Louis, the pair having grown much closer over the last few years. In fact, Zayn had practically stole Harry’s place as best friend, the two sometimes inseparable - whenever Louis wasn’t joined at the hip of Joe (McElderry). And yeah, that latter friendship had been a surprise to Liam. Four years ago and Liam would have said there was little common ground between the two – Joe, shy and quiet and perhaps a little boring, Louis loud, noisy and wild. But, over time and with a lot of meetings at different events, a firm friendship between the two had been forged. Now, Louis absolutely adored the Geordie, so much so that Liam sometimes wondered if there was something more going on between the two.
That just left the youngest member of the band, Harry. In the picture, Harry sat in the chair next to Louis but the half metre between them might as well have been several miles. Harry was listening into Niall and Aiden’s conversation but it was clear his mind was miles away. He looked miserable and lonely; the only expressions he’d worn on his face since Louis’s 21st. Liam had never asked what happened that night but he could guess. Harry had probably admitted to having feelings for Louis and Louis had rejected him.
Why Louis might have rejected Harry Liam couldn’t fathom because Liam was 100% convinced Louis had had a crush on the curly haired singer too. Whatever the reason was, Liam knew it was an important reason because Louis had stuck to it firmly – even though Harry was obviously hurting. If there was one thing Louis hated doing most in the world, that was hurting Harry. Therefore, the reason was definitely one that really mattered.
The others could only watch in dismay as Harry had withdrawn into himself – slowly spiralling into the dangerous territory Simon had forewarned.
Many times Liam had tried to figure out what Louis’s reason might have been but he really couldn’t come up with anything. He’d never asked because he knew Louis would never tell him. But still… Niall and himself were living proof that a relationship within a band could work.
The saddest part of the situation was Louis still always had time for Harry, always spared affection for his younger friend, painfully obvious in trying to keep Harry close but Harry seemed to struggle to appreciate it – like receiving any affection from Louis was painful in itself.
“What you doing?” a voice rumbled in his ear and Liam smiled, leaning backwards into Niall’s warm embrace.
“Just sorting out some photographs,” he replied.
Niall nosed his temple affectionately and Liam turned his head to share a soft but lingering kiss. When they pulled back, Niall reached down and pointed at the old picture, “Jesus, we’ve changed so much – I can’t believe how blond I was – my head looks radioactive there!”
Liam laughed, “Yeah, and look how angsty I was back then. I look proper miserable!”
“But you looked so purdy with your sad face,” Niall teased, playfully rubbing his stubbled cheek against Liam’s, “plus, in this picture you had an excuse.”
“Oh yeah,” Liam smiled, turning around in seat and having to crane his neck up to meet his boyfriends sparkling grey eyes, “what was that?”
Niall smirked, “You were pining for me!”
Liam laughed, throwing his head back and Niall smiled down at him fondly. He then leaned down and Liam met him in another kiss, hooking his arm around Niall’s neck and pulling him down into it. He moaned quietly as Niall’s fingers raked into his hair. God, three years passed and Niall could still turn him on with the slightest touch.
“Ugh, you guys are sickeningly cute. Excuse me while I go and throw up.”
Liam and Niall broke apart and turned to see Harry grimacing in the doorway, pulling his coat off.
“Hey, Harry. Have a good time?” Liam asked, not bothering to move away from Niall. Niall certainly didn’t bother to move away – he had a thing for trying to gross out their friends.
Harry sighed and shrugged, “it was okay.”
“Just okay?” Liam frowned. Normally Harry loved doing radio interviews – especially when it was Aiden doing the interviewing.
“I dunno,” said Harry gruffly, “I just wasn’t in the mood today.”
Liam patted Niall’s waist to let him up and he crossed the room to his younger band mate. “Harry, is everything alright? You haven’t been ‘in the mood’ for quite a long time?” Four years to be exact.
“I’m fine,” said Harry, shrugging again, “just going through a reflective phase I guess.”
Liam shook his head and pulled Harry into a firm hug. To his surprise, Harry hugged him back – so tightly he was practically clinging to him. “You know,” Liam murmured in his ear, “if you ever need to talk about anything then I’m here.”
Harry nodded.
~*~
Six weeks later…
There were in Birmingham for six days for the third leg of their Nocturnal Mind tour. They were to play three dates and have the other three days off. Each concert so far had been completely sold out and drawing the kind of crazy behaviour as Beatle Mania had back in the 60’s. It was both thrilling and frightening for all of them – still not used to the attention. These days they couldn’t even take a walk down the street without being mobbed. It was touching how much the fans cared but it was also frustrating when they just wanted a few moments of normality.
This would be the sixth time they’d performed at the LG Arena since Louis’s collapse. Harry dreaded it every time because, no matter how much he tried to concentrate on the show, his eyes kept falling back to the spot Louis had fallen down. He hated every single emotion the memory brought back and every new one it dredged up. Once upon a time, he would have talked to Louis about it and Louis would have reassured him that everything was okay. Not now. They had lost that closeness four years ago when Louis had effectively stabbed his heart with the metaphorical knife. The worst of the matter was he completely understood why Louis had done it, had actually agreed with the logic (at the time); the sad fact of the matter was that in doing so, they had damaged their friendship anyway. What was even worse… Harry had realised, over the years, that that crush thing wasn’t just a silly teenage crush. It ran a hell of a lot deeper than that. And now, the fool that he was, Harry was pining desperately for something that could never happen.
After the second concert, wherein he had spent 3 hours trying to act like he wasn’t head over heels in love with Louis, while throwing an arm around his shoulder and singing about soul mates, and trying not to think about that set of stairs at the edge of the stage, Harry was in desperate need of a drink. Alone. However, Zayn put an end to some solitary reflective time by inviting himself and everyone else along. Harry had little choice but to shut up and put up.
They went to Wetherspoons and set up camp in one of the back booths. Thankfully, it was an older crowed tonight so they didn’t have droves of teenagers coming up to them, asking for photos and autographs. Harry sat at the bar, nursing a glass of Vodka and Coke while the others chatted up the locals. He was glad for the peace to think, he had a lot of things to consider, particularly one major one that would change his life forever. He was thinking of leaving the band. Not to go solo or anything – no, he just wanted to stop feeling so miserable… he wanted to stop feeling like his heart was being pulled out every time he looked at their oldest band member. He just wanted to forget it all, find somewhere he could hide away and move on with his life. It had been four years and he still hadn’t moved on – the thought of another four like this made him want to cry. His only chance was to remove himself from the situation.
“Hey!” He closed his eyes in agony as a familiar hand landed on his shoulder, the fingers curling into his collarbone. “Can I get you a top up?”
Harry shook his head, even though his glass was nearly empty and he wanted another, “No thanks, I’m fine with this just now.”
“Okay,” said Louis lightly, “Listen we’re going to set up some pool in a minute? Fancy a game? I’ll even let you break.” He waggled his eyebrows, probably hoping that it would enticing. It was, and that was the problem.
“Maybe later,” said Harry, staring into his glass, “I just want some time to myself for a while.”
There was a moment’s paused and then Louis replied, “Okay Harry.” And Harry didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare glance at the hurt expression he knew was crossing his friend’s face. He just couldn’t deal with Louis at the moment, couldn’t deal with everything the guy made him feel, didn’t have the energy to pretend otherwise.
About an hour later, the pub had gotten really busy. Harry had moved to a stool at the far end of the bar to avoid the queue trying to buy a drink. Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to get the vibe that he wanted to be left alone. One woman in particular kept trying to flirt with him, pretending she hadn’t heard of One Direction when clearly she had. She was beautiful, no doubt about that, but Harry just wasn’t interested. In the end, he had to rejoin his friends at the table just to get away from her. Of course, when you’re down and you think things can’t get any worse, you find that they actually can.
No more than twenty minutes later, after he sat down at the table next to Niall, a beefy man, probably a rugby player judging by the tattoos and lack of teeth, stormed up to them.
“What’s this I hear about you chatting up my girlfriend?” He demanded of Harry. Harry groaned under his breath, could this get anymore cliché?
“I haven’t been chatting up your girlfriend,” he replied through clenched teeth.
“Funny,” the man sneered, “but my friends say different.”
“Well your friends are stupid,” Harry snapped back. It was a mistake, he knew, from the moment the last word left his mouth. The man seized a hold of his shirt and yanked him to his feet, face uncomfortably close to Harry’s. Harry could smell the strong odour of alcohol on the man’s breath.
“Would you like to repeat that?”
Harry opened his mouth, ready to repeat it, because suddenly he was itching for a fight.
“Hey!” said a voice loudly from behind them, “I think you need to step back Mister and calm the fuck down.”
The man slowly relaxed his grip and turned to face Louis.
“What’s this got to do with you?”
“It’ll have everything to do with me if you touch my friend again,” Louis said coldly.
“Leave it Louis,” said Harry, “this arsehole was just leaving anyway.”
Wrong thing to say again. It happened in a blink of an eye. The man rounded on Harry, aiming a punch at his jaw. Louis jumped forward, grabbing the man’s arm, stopping it from connecting. The man spun around, jabbing Louis hard in the stomach and making Louis let go, before turning back to Harry, making a violent grab for him. Harry side-stepped just in time and the man fell forward – landing on the table, knocking the drinks flying.
Before anyone could do anything more, two bouncers appeared and grabbed the man by his wrists. “What did I tell you last time Malloy,” one of them snarled.
“Anyone hurt?” the other asked.
Liam hurried around to Louis who was bent double, and put a steady arm around his chest, helping him stand up straighter. Louis waved at the bouncers in an offhand way, “I’m fine, just winded.”
“Okay lads,” they hefted the Malloy upright, “right you, time to go,” and they dragged him away.
“Are you sure you’re okay Louis?” Liam asked, concerned, as he helped Louis to the table.
“I’m fine,” Louis said again, “just got the wind knocked out of me.”
“What did you think you were doing?” snarled Harry. He suddenly felt irrationally angry. Stupid Louis putting himself in danger and getting himself hurt. Yeah, maybe he was more scared than angry but it was damn well coming out as anger.
“I was trying to stop you getting a black eye,” said Louis coolly.
“I don’t need you, of all people, to protect me,” Harry snapped, “I wish you’d just leave me alone for once.”
“Harry!” Liam admonished but Harry had had enough. He turned and walked for the door.
“Harry!” It wasn’t Liam but Louis who called to him this time.
He paused for a moment, indecisive as to whether to turn around or not – it was Louis after all. The coward that he was, though, had him start walking again.
“Don’t walk away from me Harry!” Louis shouted, sounding angry now too.
Harry ignored him and pushed out of the door into the night air. It wasn’t that busy on the street, it was a Wednesday night after all. He started to walk, having nowhere in mind but just wanting to get rid of the ridiculous anger boiling in his blood.
“Harry!”
For the love of God, Harry thought, could he not take a fucking hint? He resolutely walked on.
“Harry!” Louis called after him again, sounding irritated, “I said don’t walk away from me!”
Harry gritted his teeth.
“Why are you acting like this?” Louis shouted. “Harry!”
Harry willed himself to be strong and keep walking.
“Jesus! When will you stop acting like a child!” Louis yelled again, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
It took every ounce of restrain for Harry not to rise to the bait.
“Harry! Harry! Harry… wait… please,” there was pleading in Louis’s voice now and Harry was almost tempted to stop and turn around. “Harry, please!” Louis sounded pained and as much as it hurt Harry to hear Louis upset, he couldn’t bring himself to give in. If he did, it would probably be an epic disaster.
“Harry please, wait!” Louis’s voice was getting quieter, evidently he’d stopped following him. Part of him was glad but part of him hurt at Louis giving up so soon. Hischest burned, as did his throat – this was so hard and hurt so much.
“Harry please! Please, I beg you. Wait! Please! Turn around.”
Turn around? Harry frowned. That was an odd thing to say. Why not stop?
“Please!” Louis’s voice entreated again, “Harry, turn around!”
For some reason he couldn’t understand, he stopped and turned around. It took him a moment to spot Louis, because his friend wasn’t where he expected him to be. Instead, Louis was holding on to a signpost, bent double and clutching his stomach. Harry felt momentarily guilty because Louis had just been punched in the stomach and was chasing after him instead of resting.
Suddenly Louis’s legs crumpled and he fell to his knees. Okay, that wasn’t normal and before he knew what he was doing, Harry was sprinting back up the street.
“Louis!”
He skidded to his knees, heart thumping, and put a steadying arm around Louis’s chest, helping him sit back. “Louis? What’s wrong?” Even by the dim streetlights he could see Louis was pale. Louis whimpered and clutched his stomach.
“It hurts,” he gasped before curling in on himself in agony. Harry pushed him down to the ground, making him lie still, like he’d been taught in first aid.
“Harry… I… don’t feel right,” Louis grabbed his sleeve, looking and sounding scared.
“Hey, shhh, shhh, it’s okay,” said Harry soothingly, cupping Louis’s cheek. He then put a hand on Louis’s abdomen and Louis all but screamed. “Sorry! Sorry!” Harry apologised quickly. His hand brushed against the shirt as he moved it away, causing the material to rise. He only caught it out the corner of his eye – a shadow that didn’t seem quite right on the exposed skin. Not knowing why, he gently smoothed the shirt upwards and he had to blink twice, unsure whether the street lamps were playing tricks with him. There was a large dark patch over Louis’s stomach area. Suddenly Louis rolled over and coughed harshly, it sounded wet and painful. He rubbed Louis’s arm and stared at the dark patch – that bruise was massive and very quick to appear.
“Oh my god,” Harry’s head snapped up at the sheer terror in Louis’s voice.
“What is it?” He asked, fear gripping his heart.
Silently, Louis held his hand up to the light. It was covered in blood. Harry couldn’t get to his mobile quick enough.
~*~
While they had waited for the ambulance, Harry had frantically called Liam, never once letting go of Louis’s hand. At first he couldn’t get through, Liam obviously not able to hear it over the noise of the music. On the fifth attempt, Niall answered. Harry spoke to him in a rush, explaining was had happened then hung up. As the ambulance pulled up at the curb, lights flashing, Liam, Zayn and Niall came pelting down the street. Harry jumped up to meet them.
“What happened?” Liam cried, grabbing a hold of Harry.
“He just collapsed,” Harry wailed, suddenly not quite able to control himself.
Liam pulled him into a tight hug. The ambulance door opened and a paramedic climbed out.
“What’s his name,” he asked as he approached them.
“Louis,” Harry replied shakily, “Louis Tomlinson.”
“Louis!” Zayn crouched down next to Louis, “Louis, you’re okay mate.” He took Louis’s hand.
“Zayn…” Louis said weakly, his eyes fluttering.
“Okay,” the paramedic crouched down too, “can I ask you to stand back a moment sir.”
Zayn shimmied back as the paramedic started to talk to Louis, “Hi there Louis, my name’s Robert, I’m with the Central Midlands Ambulance Service. Can I ask how old you are?”
“Twenty five,” Louis murmured. His eyes closing.
“Louis,” Robert said firmly, “open your eyes for me. I know it’s hard.”
Louis’s eyes fluttered open again.
“That’s good, can you tell me how you feel?”
Louis didn’t reply.
“Louis?” said the paramedic again, “Louis open your eyes for me. Louis? Can you hear me?
Harry made to rush forward, panic crushing his chest but Liam held him back firmly.
“Patient’s gone unconscious,” Robert said to the other paramedic who placed the medical bag next to his partner. The man then turned to the rest of them, “Any of you see what happened?”
Harry stepped forward, “I was with him when he collapsed,” he said quickly, “he got punched in the stomach by an idiot in the pub. We… uh… were walking…” he winced as he thought how Louis must have struggled to keep up with him, God he should have turned around sooner... “His legs gave out and he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. I accidentally touched him and he screamed in pain. Then, just as I noticed he had a massive bruise over his abdomen he coughed up blood. That’s when I called you.”
The paramedic nodded, “and do you know if Louis has any history of medical conditions?”
Harry screwed his eyes up, trying to remember what had been said the last time, “He’s allergic to penicillin and four years ago got septicaemia from a kidney infection. He was in a coma for almost a week. Then, later on, one of the arteries burst in his kidney and he nearly bled to death.” Okay, that last bit came out more dramatic than he had planned and he felt Liam grip his shoulders tightly.
“Dave!” Robert called out and the paramedic returned quickly to his partner’s side. Harry could see that Louis’s shirt was now hiked up past his sternum. Evidently the paramedic had seen the bruising too.
They waited impatiently as the paramedics worked quietly for a few minutes, transferring Louis to a trolley and hooking him up to various items. Finally one of them looked over to them,
“We need to transfer your friend to hospital straight away. Would one of you care to ride along?”
“You go,” said Liam to Harry, pushing him forward, “we’ll catch a cab over. Which hospital…?”
“Queen Elizabeth,” the paramedic replied. Harry felt his knees give a little. That was the hospital Louis went to last time. He died two times there.
“Steady Harry,” said Liam, soothingly.
“Sir,” Robert gestured to Harry to come forward.
Harry followed the paramedic up into the back of the truck, watching as they strapped the trolley up to the floor locks. He then took a seat on the opposite trolley and reached for Louis’s hand. He heard the siren switch on, felt his stomach lurch and the roar of the engine coming to life. Unable to look at Louis’s face, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle it, he raised his friend’s hand to his lips instead and kissed it firmly. If anything happened, anything worse that is, Harry would never be able to forgive himself.
~*~
In was unreal. Harry couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t. He stared up at the placard, wondering if this was some kind of nightmare or just karma being a bitch. Room 317 – the same one Louis had been in four years ago.
Harry swiped his sleeve over his eyes and pushed the door open, grateful that his friends had let him go in first.
The rhythmic beeping and the soft whoosh that met his ears, brought back every single bad memory of the last time. Eyes blurred, Harry made his way unsteadily to the bed. Louis wasn’t all that different from last time either. Definitely older but still delicately featured. His hair was longer than last time and more feathered. There was also a more prominent outline of stubble. Harry knew though, that behind those purple tinged eyelids, his eyes were exactly the same shade of blue.
“I love you,” he whispered, stroking his fingers carefully down the cool pale cheeks.
~*~
Liam stood at the podium, facing the media circus. He was too exhausted to feel any more emotion. He felt empty and cold – yearning for Niall’s warm touch. But Niall was helping their producer sort out the arrangements for tomorrow night. It was his job to brief the media – and he would do it. This was the role he had accepted. Even though it was so hard – he had to get through it.
His voice, when he spoke, sounded hollow and harsh, even to his own ears. “Last night, following a brief clash with a member of the public. in which he sustained a punch to the stomach, Louis collapsed. He was rushed to QueenElizabethHospital where he has been undergoing treatment for a ruptured artery. Although he pulled through the emergency operation, he is still in a serious critical condition.
Doctors believe that he will require secondary treatment in the near future so he will remain in hospital until that time. We thank everyone for their concern and well wishes and we shall keep you informed of Louis’s condition on our website. We beg for some privacy too as this is a very difficult time for the band and Louis’s family. As of yet our scheduled tour dates are still going ahead but we shall advise as soon as possible if this changes. Thank you.”
He stepped shakily back from the podium and felt Simon squeeze his shoulder. As much as he tried to ignore it, he had a gut feeling that the next time he was at this podium, the news would be worse.
~*~
“I know you said we couldn’t risk putting our friendship on the line for something neither of us were sure about…” Harry whispered, his lips brushing against Louis’s knuckles.
“But it’s been over four years and… I haven’t got over you,” a tear slipped down his cheek and he brushed it away with his shoulder. “God knows I’ve tried, I really have but instead I find myself liking you more and more. I’m twenty-three now Louis, I’m not a kid or a horny teen anymore so when I tell you I’m sure, I really, truly mean it. Because I am sure. You’re everything to me and these last four years, not being able to be as close to you as I want… as I need… have just about destroyed who am I am. I need you Louis. I need you so much.” He pressed another kiss to Louis’s knuckles. “I’m ready to put our friendship on the line because what we have at the moment is not a proper friendship – not like we used to have. Either way I can’t go on like this. I can’t go on pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.
I also can’t lose you, not like this. Not here and with so much unsaid between us. At the very least you owe me that kiss. Yes, the one we almost went through with over four years ago – with no interruptions – until you damned well interrupted it yourself! If you’d let it happen you would have been able to see that I was genuine – that I was serious.”
Beep.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, “No, don’t do this.”
Beep.
“Please Louis, don’t do this. Don’t do this.” Beep beep.
“I love you,” Harry cried, “I love you so much so please don’t do this!” Beep beep beep beep beep.
Openly crying, Harry let one of the orderlies push him back to the door. “Please Louis,” he begged quietly, “please don’t leave me.”
“Charge to 200 joules. Clear!” Louis’s back arched.
“Patient’s still in arrest!” The nurse called back.
Harry wrapped his arms around his chest, sobbing, “Come on Louis.”
“Ready to shock, clear!” Louis’s back arched again but the beeping continued mockingly. “Increase the adrenalin by one measure. Charging, clear!” Louis’s back arched again.
“Increasing the adrenalin,” the nurse informed the room.
“Come on Louis,” Harry begged, “please, stop doing this.” One of the attendants was now performing chest compressions. The doctor readied the paddles again.
“Charging… clear!” Louis’s back arched again but the beeping refused to stop.
“We’re at maximum dosage,” the nurse advised. The doctor nodded grimly and readied the paddles once more, “Charging… clear!” Louis’s back arched again. Come on, come on, come on, come on, come, Harry chanted, trembling from head to foot.
The doctor put down the paddles and pulled out a pen light and a stethoscope. After a few moments of listening to Louis’s chest and flashing the light in his eyes the doctors said, “I don’t think we can do any more. I’m going to call time of…”
“NO!!!” Harry shrieked, “No! One more time, please! Just one more time please!” He rushed forward and grabbed her coat pleadingly, “please, just try one more time!”
“I can’t-” she started to say.
“Please, quickly, just one more time. I beg you please!”
“He’s still showing a low tachycardia rhythm,” the nurse murmured, “came back two shocks ago.”
The doctor looked torn.
“Please,” Harry sobbed, “please, one more try!”
“I could lose my job…”
“I won’t tell!”
The three attendants also shook their heads.
Sighing, the doctor raised the paddles, “charge to 200 joules!” The machine whirred and Harry scrambled backwards, “ready to shock! Clear!” Louis arched again. Every set of eyes immediately stared at the heart monitor. Come on, come on, come on, Harry pleaded. He couldn’t even see the green line, his tears blurring his vision too much, but he could hear the alarm. Seconds dragged past but nothing changed. All the attendants looked down at their feet.
“NO!” Harry screamed.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, “but I’m calling time of death at…”