A/N:
Hehehe the title ;) gosh I really miss the boys so much, anyway please be sure to comment and rate and let us know whatcha think so far!
This chapter was written by:
@desiringloubear
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Harry sighed, walking into the place he liked to call home. His house wasn't anything fancy, it was a simple apartment that was impeccably clean, as if nobody else lived there at all. It was true that harry lived by himself. Sometimes he liked it this way, having the house to himself, but sometimes he wished he wasn't alone.
Feeling weary, Harry hung up his coat on the coat rack behind the door, taking off his shoes shortly after. He lazily made his way down the hallway, towards his average sized bedroom, where he pulled back the light covers, laid down and attempted to sleep for the night.
Over at the hospital, Louis found himself absolutely restless. It was around one in the morning, and he felt as though something that definitely wasn't Oxygen was filling his lungs. It was all almost as if he was drowning. His hand fumbled around for the red 'Help' button as he started with an uncontrollable, painful wheezing. His shaking hand found the button, so he pressed it frantically hoping someone could come soon.
Almost instantaneously, four nurses and doctors came rushing into the small hospital room, hearing his sounds. He could hear the doctors all yelling things, but he couldn't focus on any of the words they were saying. It was just noise.
They started wheeling his hospital bed out the door and into the hallway. "Get O.R. 1 ready!" one of the women leaning over him called.
The next 10 minutes were a blur of color, sound and pain to Louis. The doctors were rushing to get him across the hospital to the O.R.
It was 3:25 am. Harry found himself waking up to the repeated beeping of the pager on the nightstand that was next to his bed. Harry quickly picked up the pager, eyes adjusting to the bright light that shines onto his face. His heart felt as if it had dropped to his stomach. Louis was given surgery due to a collapse of his lungs resulting in a coughing fit.
Harry fumbled around the nightstand, in search of his phone. Harry groaned in frustration, knocking things off of the nightstand. Finding his phone, Harry instantly dialed the hospital.
"Manchester Hospital," the receptionist answered from the front desk phone.
"Yes, hello! Dr. Styles speaking. I was just paged about the patient with the lung surgery. Mr. Tomlinson, room 201," the line was silent for a moment. Harry found himself growing impatient. "Hello?" he asked.
"I apologize for the inconvenience Dr. Styles, but I'm now transferring you to the surgeon who conducted the operation," Harry said nothing back, waiting for the line to be transferred.
"Dr. Styles, thank you for calling. This morning around one o'clock Mr. Tomlinson's left lung started to collapse, but we got in there quick enough to solve the problem. Afterwards, we ran some tests again and discovered that he may only have a short time until his heart gives out on him. You know very well that he has a leak in one of his ventricles, so it's going to gradually become more serious," the doctor explained.
Harry shook his head, needing more. He didn't want to be talked to as if he was a patients family member. "How much time exactly?" he asked.
The man on the other line sighed, "Three weeks at the most. Two at the least," he told him.
Harry talked to the doctor for quite some time about Louis' heart and the process of the transplant when the time came. Harry was scared for Louis. He was worried about not being able to find a heart for him and knowing that if he didn't, Louis would die and he wouldn't get to live his life. That scared Harry to death, and it made him even more frantic about finding Louis' heart.
Shooting up out of bed, Harry grabbed his phone, whipped open the door and walked down the hallway to his laptop. "They've got to have one there, right?..."
He opened his MacBook as he talked to himself. In his search bar, he quickly typed in 'St. Paul Hospital Transplants'. As he clicked through their site to find the phone number, he ran his hand through his curly hair and picked up his phone.
The bored sounding receptionist answered, "Saint Paul's Hospital, how may I help you this evening?" he was pretty sure that they would have something. They needed to.
"Yes, hello, my name is Dr. Harry Styles. I work with Manchester Hospital, and I was wondering if I could speak with your chief of cardio?" there was a slight pause.
"Yes, sir. I'll transfer you over now, since he's not operating at the moment."
Harry was worried he might not have any luck, "Hello, this is Dr. Romanoff," he was praying that the universe would be on his side.
"This is Dr. Styles, I'm a cardio surgeon at Manchester Hospital. Do you happen to have any heart donors at the moment than we can utilize?" he held back on saying that he was anything other than just a resident. This chief most likely wouldn't want to spend his shift talking to someone below him. He heard a sigh on the other end
"I'm sorry, Dr. Styles. We don't currently have any available," as he spoke Harry's expression faded. He was highly disappointed. He sighed.
"It's fine. Thank you anyways. Have a nice night now," hung up with more force than necessary. He still had a few ideas in mind. Next he called Titanium Falls Hospital for Special Care.
"Hello, This is Dr. Styles. I need to speak with your chief of cardio immediately!" he was transferred right over.
"Hello Dr. Styles," Harry was getting slightly frustrated.
"Do you have a heart available for transplant? It's urgent."
Harry heard the surgeon on the other line flip some pages then exhale sharply. "I'm sorry sir, we don't."
Why did it have to be now? Normally he couldn't give away hearts, but now that he actually needed one desperately there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
"It's fine," he hung up his phone frustrated and slammed it down onto the floor in frustration. 'I only have one last option. If this doesn't work...'
"Hello, this is Saint Peter's General," Harry was getting mad at this point but tried to keep his cool.
"Hello, this is Dr. Styles from Manchester Hospital. I am in desperate need of a transplantable heart. Do you have one?!" the receptionist seemed surprised at his urgency.
"I'll transfer you over sir..." he was getting annoyed, bordering on angry.
"Hello Dr. Styles. How can I help you?"
He exhaled, "Yes, hello. I need a heart ready for transplant. Please tell me you have one?" he was gritting his teeth as he spoke into the phone. He heard a shaky nervous breath from the other surgeon.
"I am sorry Dr. Styles...we just donated our last transplantable heart to a cancer patient," his eyebrows furrowed, and his hand curled into a fist.
"It's perfectly fine, thank you."
He hung up with so much force that he cracked his phone screen a bit. He clenched his damaged phone in his right hand tightly. "Fuck! Why can't anything ever go right!?"
He wound up his arm and threw his phone, meaning to throw it onto the couch, but missing and hitting his wall, creating a large dent. He slammed his laptop shut and stormed out of the room.
He walked down the long hallway in a frenzy of anger. He massaged the back of his neck with an over abundance of pressure. He may have bruises there tomorrow, but he didn't care. All that he cared about was getting Louis his heart so he could live a long life, and be happy. It just wasn't fair.
Harry looked at the time and grimaced, seeing it was 5:00 am, his shift started in about five hours, which gave him about four hours of sleep. "We can try again later, Harry get some rest everything will be okay," he stated to himself, mostly just to calm down.
Harry groaned, walking over into his room and flopping down onto his bed,
"Everything will work out, go to sleep."
Harry later found himself at the hospital living off of four hours of sleep. A smile crept on the man's face as he walked over to room 201 and knocked slightly. He heard a soft 'come in' before walking in, a small smile still on Harrys lips, which Louis returned weakly.
"Hey Harry..." Harry walked over to the boys' bed, sitting down next to him.
"Hey Louis," Harry sighed running his fingers through his hair, "how you feeling?" the man asked, patting Louis' arm gently.
Louis smiled a small smile before the heart monitor begin to increase in its pace.
Whenever Harry came close to Louis, or had any sort of physical contact at all with the man, he felt warm inside. Whenever Harry touched him he was so gentle and delicate with what he was doing, it didn't do anything but make Louis' heart race for Harry. And god did Louis know it shouldn't, but he couldn't do anything about it. He's grown so so fond of Harry.
"You have to calm down, love. Your heart starts racing when you get all excited like that. It's dangerous," Harry says, massaging his pressure points to try calming his heart rate down.
love love love
Louis just smiles, taking a deep breath, "Can't help it," he states, breathing a bit more.
Just then there was another knock on the door, and Dr. Yang walked in with a clipboard. Louis felt his heart drop knowing that this couldn't be good, considering the facial expression and vibe that was coming from the women. Harry stood up.
"Mr. Tomlinson?"
Louis nodded slightly frowning.
"We regret to inform you that unfortunately, your time is slowly starting to run out. The leak in your ventricle is gradually going to be getting more and more severe, and when it gets too much, your heart will start to give out. Right now we are currently trying our very best to get you a new heart for the transplant as soon as possible."
The room was silent, and with that Dr. Yang left. Louis felt tears in the back of his eyes. "No, no no no, I don't want to die," he choked out.
"Louis, love it's okay," Harry cooed rushing to the other side of the bed and sat on the bed, arms out for Louis embrace. "You'll be alright you're not going to die okay? I'm not going to let you die on me," Harry encouraged wrapping his arms around the smaller boy.
Louis let out another choked sob, fully eloping himself into Harrys embrace. He felt safe in Harrys arms and he liked it this way.
"Shh it's okay, babe, calm down, it's okay," Harry whispered, cheek leaning on top of Louis' head. He wiped one of the tears from Louis face, but the man couldn't stop crying.
Harry held him tighter, knowing that it helps most people relax, when they're being held tight. Louis, closing his eyes, allowed himself to be rocked and and forth by the man. Harry kept whispering in his ears, how he wouldn't be going anywhere, that he's not dying and that Harry wouldn't let anything happen to him. He felt like he was home. he really just hoped Harry was right. He hoped that everything would be okay.