It was the fourth time the doors had opened and led to disappointment, and my third cup of coffee, and the second time my father and Liam had left to get McDonald's, but the first time anyone had dared to mention anything about how Harry wasn't sitting in the uncomfortable chair beside me.
Instead of having him for support, I had been clutching to Louis' hand for the past two hours, and then when Louis was allowed to go back and see his boyfriend (who proudly had 16 new stitches on his forehead from the corner of the coffee table), I ended up clinging to Liam.
The problem wasn't that I didn't have anyone who could support me while waiting for Jace's heart scan to get back. In fact, I had more than enough people. The problem was that the one person that really should have been there, more than anyone else in that waiting room, wasn't.
And it took nearly two hours for anybody to comment. Naturally, it was my mother who squeezed my hand tightly as another random person slipped through the waiting room entrance, disappointing me when it wasn't Harry. "Norah, lovely," she said softly, "I don't think he's coming."
I took in a sharp, strangled breath. "I'm really, really trying to forget about that right now, mom. Jace is all that matters. That's it."
"I know you're stressed --"
"Mom, please. I just want to know why the fuck my best friend passed out in the middle of our living room, okay? Please."
She sighed quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Okay, lovely. Do you need me to do anything? Need the boys to pick up anything else while they're out?"
"No. Just...distract me, please," I whimpered, curling up into her side. "I don't want to think right now."
"Have I told you about how we bought chickens to raise in the backyard?"
I let out a small, choked laugh as my mother started her ridiculous story about the four chickens they adopted to raise for fresh eggs. And, as suspected, the outrageous tale dragged my mind out of the over-sanitised hospital room and all the negative things that came with it.
Eventually my father and Liam burst through the door, arms full of greasy McDonalds bag and worried looks still on each of their scruffy faces. They both rushed towards us and immediately began asking questions about Jace as they passed out the food.
"He's still good?" Liam asked, tossing me my order. "And you? Need anything? There's some coffee shop down the street that I could go grab you something from real quick. I know that hospital coffee has gotta be awful. But Jace is good?"
I smiled up at him through watery eyes. "Yeah, shouldn't be too much longer. They said it'd only be an hour for the EKG results to get back."
"Right, right. Okay. And Julia, I picked up some sort of muffin thingy for you? I don't know, Joshua said it was healthy enough. If not, I mean, I can go find something else --"
"Liam," my mother scolded gently, "sit down right now. You don't have to look after me, I promise. Sit."
He gave her a tired, grateful smile as he fell into the seat beside me, hand immediately intertwining with mine where Louis' had been only moments prior. The support system around me at the moment was more than I could have ever asked for, even without Harry.
I gave Liam's hand a soft squeeze. "Thank you. For the coffee, y'know. And for remembering to get me a fruit cup. And for being here."
"Yeah, yeah. Now shut up and give me some of your fries. I forgot mine because I was worried about your stupid fruit cup."
"Hey!"
He stuck out his tongue and snatched the small packet right out of my hand, cocky little smile showing that he already knew I wasn't going to be protesting at all. The four of us all snacked quietly on the greasy food (besides my mother, of course, whose healthy meal looked like it was made for rabbits).
We were mid-meal when Louis burst out from behind the doors, eyes frantically searching the room and fists clenched at his sides. If it were possible, I would have said he'd aged at least ten years in the past four hours due to the stress of having his boyfriend pass out right in front of them.
"Louis," I croaked, stumbling out of the blue plastic chair and dropping fries everywhere in the process. "Lou, is he okay? What's wrong? Lou?"
"I don't know. I waited on you to hear what the doctor had to say," He dropped his blue eyes to the tile. "I just really can't hear whatever it is alone. If it's bad or whatever, I can't do that with just Jace. I can't handle that. Please come."
I reached forward, gently grabbing his small hand. "Well let's go, then. You know Jace doesn't like to be kept waiting."
He let out a small, choked laugh at that. We walked hand in hand past all the patients rooms, fingers gripped so tightly I was wondering if either of our hands would break. After an endless hallway, we entered a tiny little room with curtains hanging to close off each patient.
Jace was in the one closest to the window, laying with his eyes pinched shut and his hands knotted together on his stomach. A large white bandage was plastered over his stitches, right where the corner of his head had smashed the coffee table when he passed out.
"Jace?" I whispered, poking his toe with my free hand. "You awake?"
One blue eye peeked open. "This scar on my forehead is going to fucking hideous. I'm going to need to invest in some sort of head wrap."
"Honestly, you're worried about the scar?"
"Well," He countered, "I guess I should probably be more concerned that you're holding my boyfriends hand, yeah?"
With a disbelieving laugh, I walked around the side of the bed to hug him. Of course Jace was the person to put on a brave face for every fucking possible situation he was put in, which I was thankful for, because I probably positively terrified.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my forehead as I leaned over the hospital bed to hug him. "Please don't accidentally rip out my IV or something. There's a lot of potential shit for you to trip over."
"Oh shut up," I sniffed, nosing into his neck. "You okay?"
His arms tightened around my waist, which practically made me fall into the hospital bed beside him. "Hope so. Doctor said she'd be right back. Lou, can you hand me that water?"
I reluctantly released him and settled for leaning back against the wall, hands behind my back to hide the way they were shaking. As terrified as I was, there was no way I was going to have another break down in front of the only two people who were probably more terrified than me.
Louis was holding the bottle of water for Jace when the doctor walked in, a small woman with her greying hair tied up into a tight bun and a pile of papers clutched to her chest. She seemed to already be familiar with Jace and Louis as she checked my best friends vital signs.
"I see someone else had joined the party," she smiled, pressing her fingers to check his pulse. "Whose this young lady?"
Jace smiled up at me, wrinkling his nose cutely. "This is Norah. My roommate, best friend, girl who works with me. Norah."
"Nice to meet you, Norah. I'm Dr. Barton. Is this everyone?" She asked, perching her glasses on the bridge of her nose when he nodded in response. I took that as my cue to join Louis at Jace's side, clutching our hands together as if that would brace us for whatever news.
And the first thing I thought was that Jace's hands were absolutely trembling, and my second thought was that I would give absolutely anything to have Harry's strong arms around my waist right now; to have him demanding for to sit still because it was all going to be okay.
"Okay, so," Dr. Barton started, "Every test came back normal. Except the EKG -- that's the one that checks your heart -- showed a few things of concern. Your heart rate was beating at an abnormally fast pace, what we call tachycardia. That's why you passed out."
Jace furrowed his eyebrows up at her. "Is that it?"
"Well, sort of. There's something that caused you to experience the tachycardia. It's an extra, abnormal electrical pathway in the heart. It's the accessory electrical conduction pathway between the atria and the ventricles. We call it the bundle of Kent."
She paused, taking in our confused expressions with a knowing smile. "In normal people, the wiring of the heart prevents extra beats from occurring, and keeps the next beat from happening too soon. But in people like Jace, the signals go down an extra pathway that caused a very rapid heart rate."
"Okay, but like, what does that mean?" Louis asked quietly, shifting even closer to his sick boyfriend. "He's going to be okay, right?"
"Jace has what we call Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome. In most of these cases, the fast heart rate isn't life threatening, and how often it occurs depends on the person. It can cause dizzy spells, chest pains, or in his case, fainting."
I let out a shaky huff of breath and clenched a little bit tighter onto my best friend. "So what do we do? Is there a treatment, or what? He's just going to pass out a bunch?"
"There's a few medicines we're going to put Jace on. Adenosine, antiarhthmic drug, and amiodarone are going to control the heart rate. If those don't work, there's an operation we could perform to correct it, but that's unnecessary for now. Jace is going to be fine. Just put on some medicine."
"I'm going to be fine?" He repeated, hand tightening on my own. "Beside, that wolfy thingy? I'm fine?"
"Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome," She laughed, pushing her glasses back up on her nose. "But yes, Jace, you're going to be fine. We'll discharge you tomorrow."
His eyes went wide, and then he pulled both Louis and I into a fierce hug, desperately clutching us against his chest with as much force as he could muster in his weak condition. "Jesus fucking Christ," He whispered, "all that scary stuff and I only have an ugly scar to show for it."
* * * *
We all crowded around his hospital bed, piled into chairs, or (in Liam's and Louis' case) curled up into the tiny bed with him. I curled up into the small love seat with my mother, legs thrown over her lap and hands intertwined with hers as everyone joked around.
It seemed almost impossible that only one hour ago, everyone in the room had been on the verge of breaking down out of anxiousness. And I knew, I fucking knew that I should be as happy as everyone else, but Harry still wasn't there. And I hated myself for caring.
I could tell my mother knew something was wrong; she kept giving me those awful, half-pitying glances that made me want to scream. She knew better than to say anything, though, which was lucky because if one person mentioned his name I would probably snap under the stress.
And so, naturally, it was in the middle of while Louis was reenacting what Jace looked like when he fell, that Jace noticed something was wrong. My best friend coughed quietly and motioned me over to his sick bed with that same half-pitying expression my mother was wearing.
I cursed under my breath as I made my way over to the three brunette boys piled onto the tiny bed. "Do you need something?"
"A glass of wine," Jace shrugged. "Maybe a shot of tequila?"
"Anything that will not inebriate you and potentially get us kicked out of the hospital?"
"A new best friend who will bring me sad items?" He laughed loudly as my scowl grew. "Kidding love. Just wondering where Harry was."
Beside him, both Louis and Liam stiffened in their seats. My mouth went dry, and as much as I wanted to vent to my best friend, I wasn't going to do that after he'd been through the entire heart ordeal. I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. "You know. Working, or whatever. I'm going to get us some water."
"Thanks babe!" He cheered after me receding figure. I flicked him off over my shoulder as I stepped out into the hospital hallway, where the harsh lighting made me squint. I could add that to the list of things I hated about the hospital, right under how the only TV channel that worked was one playing Judge Judy.
And after pushing the button to get water at the water fountain and having only a small trickle come out, that list was apparently still growing. I kicked the stupid machine with the toe of my shoe (maybe I had some pent up anger, whatever), and whirled around to see Harry Styles standing at the nurses station.
Considering my first reaction was to clench the plastic cup so hard it broke in my hand, there was definitely some pent up anger. He was wearing a damn Gucci suit, six hours late, and smiling at the nurse like none of that even mattered.
I ended up staring at him, mouth dropped open in shock, until he thanked the woman and turned. His smile only grew as he walked towards me, with his shoulders back and hands tucked away in the pockets of his black slacks.
When he was a few feet away, the anger seemed to hit me all at once, because Harry Styles had no right to come six hours late and still make me feel a little bit relieved that he came at all. "What are you doing here?" I asked quietly, stepping away until my back hit the wall.
Harry stopped in the middle of the bright hospital hallway. "You asked me to come. Is Jace alright?"
"Yeah, he's fine. Jace is fine."
"What is the matter then? You look upset."
I could feel my lower lip trembling as I stared up at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. "What do you think is wrong? I just. I needed you. And you never came. You never fucking came."
"Where was an emergency at work," He said slowly, twisting the rings on his fingers.
"Yeah, well." I shrugged my shoulders slightly. "There was an emergency here too. And I really, really needed you. So. I don't want to talk to you right now, because I'm done with this shit. I've had enough stress today. You can leave. I'm sure there's like a meeting or something."
Harry let out a soft sigh. He didn't really looked pissed, of scared. He just looked sort of tired, like he possibly could have felt just as exhausted as I did. "But Jace is okay?"
"He's just getting some heart medicine. And he has sixteen stitches from where he hit his head."
"Then why are you so upset?"
I bit my bottom lip to stop it from shaking and tried to not let the tears pooling in my eyes fall over. "I'm upset because if Jace wasn't okay, you wouldn't be here for me. You weren't here when I fucking needed you."
"Norah," He said quietly, "what do you need me to do?"
"I don't. I don't know. You make me so happy and I love you, but I don't know what I need."
Harry clenched his jaw slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know what to do about us," I mumbled, cursing the way my voice was starting to tremble with every word. "I just really don't know what to do."
"What to do? There is nothing for you to do, Norah. We're together. We're in a relationship. You and me. Us."
"A relationship is about being there for someone, Harry. And you just -- you weren't. It like, I always wondered why you were so against all this relationship shit, y'know? And I guess I get it now. It makes sense. You can't be there for me."
"Norah, I had to work to on --"
I whirled on him so fast that the words froze in his throat. "That's the problem, Harry! That's always the fucking problem!"
There was a beat, and it was so, so quiet for a second as we stood there; me with my finger pointed accusingly right where his tie was knotted, and Harry with his pouted lips and angry eyes, like he couldn't believe anything I was saying.
I let my shaking finger fall. "Do you know how selfish I feel that I even care? That you even fucking crossed my mind while Jace was getting tests done? And I shouldn't have had to, because you should have been there. You should have been there."
He ran his hands desperately through the roots of his hair, tugging on the ends in exasperation. "I can try. I can work less and make this work, Norah. We can make this work, I promise. I'm going to try."
The words were familiar, floating back from the past, from the day he sent me hundreds of flowers, to the day after I punched the cabinet in the sink, to the day he finally agreed we were in a relationship. "You always say you'll try."
"And I will, babe." Harry stepped forward, slipping his ring clad hands around my waist gently. He pressed kisses to each of my cheeks, to the corner of my mouth, like the feather-soft kisses would placate my anger. "I can try. Once this deal with Malik is over, everything will be normal."
"No," I whispered quietly, voice shaking again, "it won't."
"Norah, it will. Come home with me, yes? I can make dinner and we can talk. Or we can go out to dinner. Whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want."
I flinched out of his grasp, trying to ignore the way his face fell and his hands reached out slightly before falling back at his sides. "I want you to go, Harry."
"What?"
"I can't do this anymore," I said, voice cracking at the end. I could hear the facade falling around us, right outside my best friends hospital room. "I can't do this. Us."
"No, Norah," he mumbled, pressing the heel of his hands against his eyes, "no."
"I thought...I don't know. I guess I thought that you could really do this. That you could really be there for someone, y'know? That you could see actually letting someone in and caring for them can be good. I guess I hoped I could do that for you. I could help you."
The harsh hospital lights only made the bags under his eyes seem darker, only showed the harsh signs of stress against his skin more prominent; only made the way his eyes widened with confusion hurt me even more. "But you do. You help me. Fuck, Norah, I need you."
"Please. Just go. I'm so tired, Harry."
"Norah, I can be there for you. I swear to god I can," He looked almost frantic now, pacing back and forth in the middle of the hallway. But somehow he was still calm and collected; still keeping his control of the situation. "I fucked up, I know, and I should have been there. You needed me. Please, Norah. I need you and you need me."
My fingernails dug into the skin of my palms. "We're different."
"No," he insisted, voice deeper and more strained this time, "you need me. Please, babe, let's just go back and talk about this. We need each other."
"Maybe. I don't know," And the tears finally spilled over, slipping silently down my pale cheeks. I sniffled as I wiped them away with the back of my hand. "Please," I begged, softer this time, like a voice too loud would push it over the edge, "please leave."
He tugged on the roots of his hair. "Fuck, would you just listen? I hate that you never fucking listen!"
"Would you just tell me what you're so fucking afraid of?! Why you can't even seem to fathom the idea of letting someone get too close? Why you can't spend a day off work?" My voice cracked with the last word and I stumbled back another step. "Why you can't tell me one thing you love about me?"
"Norah--"
"I'm here. I'm always fucking here, trying to help you open up, or take a day off, or not look like you're going to break everything in sight. And you aren't. You can't be, and I don't know why, but for some reason in your control-freak brain, you can't be here for me."
Harry didn't move. He just kept standing there; calm and cool and collected, the very model of a man in charge. He opened his mouth once, then twice, then shoved his hands in his pockets and took a wary step backwards. "I want to be that person for you," he said quietly. "I want to try and be that person."
I kept my head towards the ground, because one look up and I would fucking lose the last strain of control I had in my body. "I can't have you just try anymore. I need you to be that person. I need you to be able to seperate working from your personal life. I need you to open up to me. To tell me why you can't do this."
There was a pause, a sharp intake of breath on his end. "I don't know if I can."
"Yeah," I sniffled, and suddenly my legs were shaking so much that I had to sit. I slid down the wall until I was sitting with my knees tucked to my chest on the cool, white tile. "And I don't know if I can keep being okay with that."
"Norah," he said quietly, "please."
"I'm here. I'm always going to be here with you. But I need you here, too. I need all of you, and you won't give that to me. I'm yours, I've said it for so fucking long, but I don't think that you're mine. I don't think you're really mine."
"I can try --"
"No," I snapped, raising my head to look at him through red rimmed eyes. "No. You can either look at me right now and give up every ounce of control you have, and you can open up to me, and you can be here for me. You can be here for me right now. Or you can walk away."
"I hate," he said quietly, eyes pinching shut and jaw clenching, "I absolutely hate that I can't be who you need."
There was a pause, and then Harry was gone, and I was sitting in a cold, white, hospital hallway, crying.