Bully to Bully

In The End I'd Do It All Again.

LOUIS' P.O.V

I'd got out of hospital the day that Liam was killed, I was supposed to be released three days later but I came out independently. It was 23:49 when I forcefully stated that I was leaving, much against all of the nurses' liking, because Harry was missing with no contact. I had no idea what had happened or what was happening at the time.

I'd taken off in my car, my ribs still aching, and tried calling everyone. And by everyone- I mean Liam. There was no reply.

Evidently.

The first sign that appeared that night that caused concern for good reason were the flashing lights and sirens screaming into Niall's and Harry's estate. I also was heading to Harry's house, hoping that he'd just accidently fallen asleep and there was no need to worry. I was fluctuating between speeding down the main road when I saw the emergency vehicles. As you can imagine, my heart dropped within first sight and my heart seemed to shrivel up inside of my weak chest.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion from that point on.

Sounds were muffled, the occasional high pitched wave flooded my head when my pulse flat-lined. My head turned as if my neck was a pivot blocked with oil. Colours were hazed as if they were painted with water colours and someone had swiped the page with their fingertips. I was drugged with fear, floating in and out of worlds of reality, stumbling fast but thinking that I was hovering, punching objects but thinking that I was lightly pressing, sobbing when I thought I was keeping it cool.

The hour was a blur and came to an end when Harry's body was taken away in an ambulance with the farewell words of: "he might not make it".

I then blacked out.

I woke up the next day in my mum's bed.

Apparently Zayn had called her and helped her to move me there, both afraid of what I'd do if I woke up alone. She desperately tried to keep me in when I woke, begging me to stay safe, promising that Harry was okay, bribing me with breakfast, suggesting that Liam was in a better place. That broke me though, I glared at her, snatched my keys and stormed out of the house. I sped to the hospital with a blank mind, not preparing myself for what I was going to see, only thinking that I was going to find Harry.

I parked shakily, not paying attention to the few cars on the car park. Never thinking that it was too early to be there, it was 08:03 and my eyes were burning with exhaustion. I stumbled as fast as I could into the main reception, feeling as though my legs were made of lead and there were no limbs in my body.

"Harry Styles." I panted sharply at the receptionist.

"I'm sorry Sir, what is it I can help you with?" Her head tilted slightly but I could see her right hand lightly linger over the 'security button'.

"I'm here to see Harry Styles, could you tell me where he is?" I breathed angrily. "Please." I growled.

"Certainly Sir." I saw her inhale deeply, trying to compose her façade, pursing her lips as her fingers tapped across the keyboard. "He's in 'Intensive Care', visitation is prohibited at the moment-"

"But-"

"He is in Room 37, you can ask for his activity status to see how he is going."

"Thank you." I stubbornly gritted through my teeth, rather annoyed from our encounter.

I pushed away from the counter and unsteadily headed towards the sign hanging above an open corridor to my right. It read all of the directions to every department in list form and I skimmed my eyes down to find 'Intensive Care'. The words merged together as I read quickly which made me feel sick but I eventually found it. Down this corridor, two rights and onwards once more. I found myself nearly running with the mental image of the hospital map in my head.