Web of Lies

Web of Lies: Chapter Fourteen

When Harry felt himself being pulled towards consciousness, he struggled to remain back down in the oblivious calm darkness.

Because there was no way he’d fucked up the one thing no one is supposed to fuck up. If you can’t properly kill yourself, than you really must not be able to do anything.

But his mind was drifting closer to the light and the soft voices that Harry could barely make out. And all too soon he felt his left eye betray him by opening up, and blinking around an overly white room.

Which is definitely when he knew he’d fucked up, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to open his eyes to a white heaven after what’d he done.

Which left the only other alternative.

Hospital.

He blinked tiredly, his limbs feeling heavy and movements slow as he tried to process his surroundings. He was in a bed, tucked in quite tightly under a mound of blue blankets, that were scratchy and uncomfortable and too constricting.

He felt a slight pinch in his arm and looked down to see an IV tube, which his eyes trailed all the way up to a clear bag of liquid, hanging above him in a stand and dripping down into his vein.

His eyes drifted over the various machines, monitoring various parts of Harry, the monitoring he’d been trying so hard to avoid.

And now he’d stepped right into it.

He glanced at the door, his heart stopping when he saw his mother, looking older than she ever had before. Her shoulders were hunched over, and her hand was covering her mouth as she leaned against he doorway and talked to a nurse, who looked to be calming her the best she could manage.

Next to his Mum, in a chair by his door, sat a policeman, who sat stone face in the doorway. Harry briefly wondered what his purpose was, but was more concerned with his mother who looked absolutely shattered.

All thanks to him.

“Mum?” his voice rough and he winced, drawing a hand to his throat, which was raw and strangely sore. His mind drifted in a haze as he watched his mother turn around from the nurse, hand flying from her mouth as she walked quickly to the bed, and flung her arms around Harry.

And Harry is pissed and angry at the situation, because shit it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, and once he figure out which one of the boys had ruined it, he was going to kill him.

But wrapped in his mother’s arms, her cool long fingers running along his back, he almost regretted is actions.

How could he do this to his own Mum? His own Mum, who looked like a complete mess, thanks to Harry and a stupid rash decision.

“Harry,” she whispered, choking on her words as she ran a hand along his cheek and looked down at him with teary eyes, “Baby, I love you.”

She couldn’t seem to say any more words, bringing a hand to her mouth and sobbing into it, while Harry could do little more than lie helplessly next to her, resting a hand on her back and feeling guilt consume and break the placid calm.

Another figure emerged from the door, coffee in one hand and phone in another. His hair a frazzled mess and his eyes dead as they rested on Harry, who looked up from his mother and into the eyes of Louis.

He swallowed thickly, opening his mouth, but before he could say anything Louis had turned from the doorway, disappearing back down the hallway before Harry spoke. Harry’s eyes clenched shut, shame and grief consuming him and breaking that lovely calm he’d wanted so hard to keep around him.