Harry
I wake up slowly.
The bed's cold.
Louis must've gotten up early.
That's odd.
Louis never gets up early.
My head hurts.
I open my eyes.
The lights are on, and they're really bright.
And then I realise I'm not in my flat.
“Where am I?” I mumble.
“The hospital, deary” says a motherly female voice with a faint Scottish accent. A short, round woman waddles into my field of vision. “Can I ask your name, deary?” she asks me.
“Harry” I mumble. “Harry Edward Styles.”
“Where are you from?”
“Holmes Chapel. Cheshire. Why are you asking me this?”
The nurse smiles brightly.
“You suffered a bit of a bump on the head” she says. “Just want to make sure there's no damage!”
“What happened?” I mumble.
“You were in a car accident, deary” she replies brightly. I'm about to ask another question when my head explodes in pain. I let out a moan, and the nurse's huge smile wavers for a moment. Then it's back.
“I imagine you have an awful headache” she says. “What with a minor concussion, and being as drunk as you were.”
“Yeah” I mumble through gritted teeth. “Where are the others? Zayn? Niall?”
“Zayn Malik and Niall Horan are sleeping off similar headaches, but they'll be fine in a few hours” the nurse says. “Liam Payne is with Callin Baines, who is in a coma.”
Coma?
“Louis” I mumble. “Louis Tomlinson.” I can feel myself fading, exhaustion taking over. But I have to know where Louis is.
“I haven't heard anything about a Louis Tomlinson” she says. “I'm very sorry.”
And then I hear no more.
-
I drift in and out of sleep for what feels like days, the pain in my head never really going away. I think Liam comes in at one point, and I almost think he's crying, but it feels so much like a dream. And that can't be right, anyway. Liam doesn't cry.
And then I'm asleep again.
But I don't dream, which is a blessing, I suppose. No dreams, but no nightmares, either.
And I worry about Callin.
And I worry about Louis.
And I sleep again.
-
I wake up again, but this time feels . . . real. Not like a dream.
My head's not hurting so much any-more.
I feel more . . . here. Present.
There's someone in my room.
“Hello?” I ask, my throat feeling raw and sort of painful.
Then I remember I have eyes, and open them.
Zayn's standing next to my bed.
I look him over, searching for . . . clues.
I don't know what happened.
All I know is we got to the party, I had a few drinks, and then I woke up in a hospital.
Actually, the hospital.
The one I spent a week in, after . . . what happened two months ago.
Zayn's eyes are red.
“How are you?” he asks, his voice cracking.
“What happened?” I ask.
And Zayn does something I've only seen him do once before.
He breaks down.
Sobbing.
He falls into the chair next to my bed and just cries.
-
Liam comes in a minute or two later. He takes one look at Zayn, and lifts him up and practically carries him out of my room.
Zayn falls into a chair in the hallway; I can see him through the window.
Liam comes back in.
“How are you?” he asks me.
“I . . . my head hurts a bit” I say honestly. I don't mention how I can't seem to focus on anything very long. I don't want to worry him. “What happened?”
“I crashed” he says. “I crashed the damn car. And now Callin's in a coma.”
I hadn't remembered that until now.
What the nurse told me.
Callin's in a coma.
Louis' not here.
“Please, Liam” I say softly. “Start from the beginning.”
Liam sighs.
And then he starts talking.
“It was late” he says. “Like, two in the morning, late. I figured it was time to get home, so I came looking for you.”
His eyes are red.
And when I glance at his hands, his knuckles are as well.
“You and Zayn and Niall were really hammered. I found you one by one, took you to the van. You and Zayn first, and then I found Callin.”
I don't remember any of this.
“Callin was pretty alert; I don't think she had m-much to drink . . .”
He trails off, looking like he's about to cry again.
“Keep talking” I say softly.
I can't ignore the worry.
It won't leave me alone.
Callin's in a coma?
Because Liam, the responsible driver, crashed?
And nobody knows where Louis is, or if they do, they won't tell me.
“I was looking for Louis” Liam continues. “And there was a crowd, on the street outside. And then an ambulance pulled in. I went to see what was going on, and it w-was Louis. H-he got hit by a car.”
“Where is he?” I ask, interrupting.
“I-ICU” Liam says.
“The nurse said -” I start to say.
“He was in another hospital” Liam says. “One closer to the party. But he had to get airlifted here. It's bad, Harry.”
“How . . . how did you crash?” I whisper. “Y-you're a great driver.”
“The police said I was drunk” Liam says, so softly I almost can't hear him. “But I swear to you, Harry, I didn't drink. The only thing I had to drink was a soda.”
“Someone could've spiked it?” I ask, knowing the answer already.
“No” Liam says. “I poured it myself, I never left it alone, I . . . but I crashed. C-Callin's in a c-coma. S-so is Louis.”
And then he starts crying.
“I . . . she could die, Haz. This is my fault.”
-
“I thought . . . I thought we were done with tragedy. Haven't we been through enough?”
Zayn sighs.
“I guess not” he says. “I guess the universe isn't done with us yet.”
The two of us are in my hospital room, just . . . talking.
Or, more accurately, sitting in silence occasionally broken by random outbursts.
Niall's with Robin, who's in this hospital. I don't know where Liam is. He left my room about an hour ago.
“It wasn't his fault” I say softly. “It can't have been his fault.”
Zayn knows what I'm talking about; I know he does.
“The police said he was drunk” Zayn says. “They took a test, I guess. They can't have been wrong.”
“Liam doesn't drink” I say. “Never. Especially not if he's the designated driver.”
“Well, someone spiked his drink, then” Zayn says.
“You've seen Liam at parties” I reply. “He never lets his drink out of his sight. This is so . . . impossible. Who would even do this?”
“You don't think . . . Lavender?” Zayn says softly.
“No way” I reply quickly. “She's in jail. They're all in jail. Or dead. That's over. That's impossible.”
-
“How are you this morning, Harry?” she asks.
I open my mouth, not entirely sure what I'm going to say, but it doesn't matter. I start coughing, violently. I don't bother covering my mouth. I'm surrounded by filth, a bit more won't matter.
“Oh well, I guess today's session will have to be shorter” she says. “Or maybe I'm lying.”
The coughing finally slows, then stops.
I can taste blood in my mouth.
“What do you know about Callin Baines?” she asks.
“Nothing” I spit, but my voice doesn't work very well any-more.
I haven't had anything to drink for so long . . . I'm so thirsty.
The door to my cell creaks when it opens.
It's the cruel man, this time.
The one that kidnapped me.
The one that really enjoys the torture.
He has a knife.
He grabs my arm, and yanks me across the concrete floor towards him.
“Are you sure?” he asks me, his voice low.
I can't answer; I'm coughing so hard I can barely breathe. Eventually, the coughing subsides, but this time, I've coughed something out.
There's a nice, neat circle of blood on the floor.
The man turns away for a moment.
“Are you sure we should continue today?” he asks her.
“He won't tell us what we need to know” she says. “Continue.”
“Please” I croak out. “Please. Stop.”
“What do you know about Callin Baines?” asks Lavender Bowen.
-
I wake up screaming.
Again.
My pillow soaked with tears.
Another nightmare.
Another memory.
Another secret I need to keep.
---
A/N: Hello
So here's a lovely little update for you :)
If you like this story, you should've read Run, right?
Well, if you liked Run, PLEASE go vote in the Watty Awards! It's under Action: On The Rise.
Sorry. I'm done advertising now c:
What do you think? Leave me a comment!
There's a bit of Harry's memories from his captivity for you . . .
Why were they asking about Callin?
Now that I've managed to completely frustrate you, I'm gonna gooooo c:
DON'T FORGET TO VOTE FOR THIS CHAPTER.
Love you <3
~Brook