~Niall's POV~
The past week has definitely been the worst in Directioner history. Basically, Harry, Zayn, Louis, Amy, and I have gotten absolutely no word on Liam's condition, all we know is he isn't dead. We don't know if there's a high chance of him dying, if he has serious brain damage, or if he's even awake. And since we don't know, none of our fans know either. So our time is being spent moping around the house, taking turns trying to distract Amy, and seeing if #PrayForLiam and #GetWellSoonLiam are still trending on Twitter, like they have been ever since Harry used them in a tweet saying that Liam is alive. The only time any of us have left the house since Liam was shot is when we had a group press conference about the Greg and Liam situation, basically us announcing what's going on and starting all this. Like I said, well, though, that was a week ago. I really need to stop talking to myself, but I've been doing it a lot lately because none of us feel like actually talking out loud. Or signing, for that matter.
Zayn hasn't left his room in days, Louis and Harry are ignoring each other (they've been fighting over useless things all week, both of them are just really irritated), and I'm spending most of my time in the kitchen, either eating or staring at the wall, over-thinking everything, and crying, like I am right now. I mean, seriously, you'd think I'd be out of tears by now but I still have like a steady stream going down my cheeks that I've given up on trying to control. So basically, no one is in a very good condition, and I think Paul is trying to get us together, but I've been ignoring everyone lately, so I don't really know. As soon as someone says the word Liam, though, I'm all ears. Or all tears, depends on the context.
I hear a slam that startles me from my thoughts, and I turn to see Harry glaring at a closed cabinet like it just told him he was fat. He's probably still angry at Louis for whatever they were arguing about this time, and when Harry is angry he's angry at everything. I'm not sure if Harry has actually physically hit anyone, I know Louis' punched a couple walls but I'm not sure about people. I know I shouldn't mess with Harry when he's in a mood, so I watch silently as he walks around the kitchen, looking in all the cabinets and the fridge before apparently deciding that we have no food. At this point his settles with pacing back and forth, running a hand through his hair. Just like Liam always does when he's frustrated.
That thought is all it takes to open the floodgates, and soon I'm crying hysterically for the eightieth time this week. Every time I even think about Liam I explode in tears, I really can't help it. My eyes are squeezed shut, attempting to stop the flow of water streaming down my face, so I feel Harry before I see him. He pulls me into a hug and lets me put my head on his shoulder, crying into his shirt. "Nialler, it's okay. He's going to be fine." Harry says softly, and I bury my face into his neck in response, shaking my head.
"What if he isn't fine? What if he's gonna die and they just haven't told us? What if he's already dead? What if he lives but he forgets all of us? What if he's different? What then?" I ask, the questions pouring out of my mouth like the tears from my eyes. Harry doesn't respond, he just rocks back and forth a bit, taking me with him. See, this is why people think I'm younger than him, because sometimes I act like a baby and Harry acts like my mum or something. Usually Liam would, but...
"Stop, Nialler." Harry says sternly. "Don't think like that. Think positive, okay? Greg is gone, he won't hurt us anymore. All of the religious fans are praying for him and probably some of the non-religious ones, too. And Liam is one of the strongest people I know, and not just physically. He'll be fine, we just have to wait." Harry says. Everyone's been calling me Nialler lately, it was just Liam when I was getting my memory back but now it's everyone. Even Paul is calling me Nialler when he attempts to talk to me. Even though it annoys me a bit, I have to say I do kinda like it. The nickname makes me a bit happier.
"I know, Hazza." I say, using Liam's old nickname for Harry. "I just have too much time to think, I guess." Harry nods, sighing.
"I know what you mean. All of us have been over-thinking things lately. Do you know what?" He says, chuckling a bit. "Now that I think back to my argument with Louis, it was so ridiculous that I can't believe we stopped talking to each other for two days because of it. You know what we were arguing about? Cereal." I crack a smile, and Harry grins. "That huge argument all started because of cereal. You know, I should probably apologize to Louis about that, because it really was stupid." Harry starts rambling, and I laugh. Harry stops talking and grins, hugging me again. "I got you to laugh! My work here is now done." He says, cheering. I laugh again and Harry smiles, standing. "Come on, Paul wants to talk to us, he said it was about Liam. I'm going to talk to Louis, you try to convince Zayn to leave his room." I nod, and we both walk out of the kitchen and upstairs. Harry walks into Louis' room and I knock on Zayn's door, not wanting to walk in on him naked or something. That'd be creepy.
"Zayn, are you there?" I ask when there's no response. When I still get nothing, I turn the knob and walk in, looking around the messy room. I see a figure on the bed and smile, turning on the light and looking at the sleeping Zayn. Well, if there's one thing I can do, it's be really annoying when I really need to. I walk over and start poking Zayn's shoulder. "Zayn. Zayn. Zayn." I say with each poke. He groans, pushing my hand away. I continue to poke him while I think of something else, then sigh. "Paul has news about Liam." I say, and Zayn's eyes fly open.
"Why didn't you just say that to begin with?" He asks, his voice hoarse like mine probably is from crying.
"Because I'm dumb. Now let's go." I say, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of his bedroom. When we get to the living room we see Harry and Louis sitting on one of the couches, Paul sitting in the armchair, and Simon standing in front of the telly. Wait, Simon?
"Hello, boys. Come sit down." Simon says, gesturing to the other couch. Zayn and I sit down and all four of us look at Simon expectantly. "Well, as I'm sure you all know, I have some news on Liam's condition." He begins, and we all nod. "Well, boys... It's good news." We all cheer and I hug Zayn tightly, smiling. When we all stop hugging and look back at Simon, a thought crosses my mind.
"Did you say that just like you did on the X-Factor on purpose?" I ask, and Simon smiles.
"It was not intentional. Anyways, Liam has been in the hospital for the past week, recovering from the gunshot. Let me just say, Liam is alive because Greg is a terrible shot. The bullet almost completely missed Liam's brain, but it did damage his skull. He was dead for about five minutes before the doctors revived him, but he is expected to make a full recovery. The reason we didn't tell you four is because Liam needed to recover on his own for a bit and we knew you would insist on seeing him as soon as you knew. I'm telling you know because we can go and visit him today. So go get dressed, and maybe take a shower because you all look like crap." Simon says, smiling. We all stand and run to our respective rooms, and everyone, even Zayn, is back downstairs in ten minutes fully dressed with wet hair. Simon laughs and waves us all to the car, and soon we're heading to the hospital. This is probably becoming the best hour of my life. Maybe.
~Liam's POV~
The door to my hospital room opens, and my four best friends run in, practically throwing themselves on me and hugging me tightly. I hug all of them back, grinning. "Hey... guys." I say, smiling. This past week has been annoying as heck with all the doctors and stuff, and now I finally get to see my friends again. Apparently there's still something a little wrong with my brain, like, it takes me a minute to think of the right word to say. I don't know how to explain it. I can think properly, but when I'm talking I don't have the right words, so it takes ages to form a coherent sentence. Well, it did at first, but I'm getting better apparently. I just have a lot of awkward pauses when I'm trying to think of the right word to use. It's like my mouth isn't properly connected to my brain. I don't know, that's all I made out from what the doctor said.
"Liam! Simon wouldn't tell us anything for a week, and it was chaos!" Niall exclaims happily, nearly bouncing off the walls with all his energy. Simon chuckles, and the lads all turn to see him standing behind them.
"Niall's not lying. Without you all of them weren't themselves, they were all really worried. Niall was always crying, Louis and Harry weren't talking because of an argument they had over something incredibly stupid that I can't ever remember, and Zayn didn't leave his room all week." Simon says. Wow, they must really care about me. "Also, Amy is at Mandi's house currently, they had a sleepover last night." He adds, explaining why my sister isn't in the room.
"The fans are being awesome." Zayn butts in, smiling. "They've had #PrayForLiam and #GetWellSoonLiam trending on Twitter all week." He says. I nod, smiling as well.
"I... know. I had my... phone and I... could check." I say, frowning at my own words. Niall, Louis, Harry, and Zayn all look confused, so I look at Simon. "You didn't... tell them?" I ask, and he shrugs.
"Never got around to it, they were too excited to see you. Boys, the bullet didn't do any serious damage but it still hit Liam's brain and it messed up his speech a little bit. It's really hard to explain, but basically sometimes it's hard for him to come up with the right word to say, hence the pauses in his sentences. He's working on it, though, earlier this week he paused after almost every word." Simon explains to my friends, and I smile.
"I'll... get through it. Besides, it's just... saying things that... are random, I... guess. If I'm... reading, or... singing, then... I don't have to... think about it... as much." I say, wincing every time I have to stop and think for a second.
"So if you know what you're saying ahead of time, like a memorized song or a script, you don't pause because you already know what you have to say?" Harry asks, and I nod. That's pretty much it, actually. I learned that when the nurses had me reading a book out loud and singing one of our songs. They did a few tests like that over the week, and Harry summarized what the doctor said better than the doctor did. Less sciency, I guess.