Guns & Roses (Larry Stylinson)

Open Wounds

Hello everyone!

Here is your update, loves!

Few things beforehand:

1) Trigger Warning: This chapter mentions severe injuries, self-harm, murder/grief, and lots of emotion. Please read safely. ❤

2) I promise you will get more fluff next chapter as a little breather!

3) Shoutout to @liCoRicE_sTreAKs for being a smart cookie and figuring something out last chapter!

4) Another shoutout to John_Doe028 just because! Know that I do love you endlessly! I was 100% joking earlier :)

Finally, read the author's note after this chapter for a little sneak peek of a story I'm working on for after this one is done.

Now, enjoy! xx

Chapter 47:

   I awoke with a start before feeling like I wanted to scream in pain.

  Everything hurt. My side felt like it was on fire, my head had a terrible ache, my shoulder felt stiff from the bullet wounds, my hand was stinging, and the multiple cuts and bruises on my body were excruciating now that they were allowed time to heal.

   Everything that happened came back to me in an instant, and I was standing out of bed, ignoring how terrible it felt to take a single step. I used the bed for support before stumbling to hold onto the wall. I did my best to balance myself up, reaching for the door handle to the room I was in. A cold room with grey walls that seemed so familiar.

   I touched the handle with the wrong hand. I was prepared to feel pain spread throughout it, but instead, I felt nothing at all in the region that the knife went through. The middle of my hand was numb. I knew that my nerves must've been damaged in the stabbing.

   I didn't let it stop me. I was on a mission of my own.

  I hobbled out into the hall, falling over and crashing against the opposite wall in the hallway. I heard voices in the distance, and I righted myself, breathing heavily already and gripping onto my side. One of my eyes was still swollen shut from being punched in the area, but I could see well enough.

  "Hey, Louis, take it easy," I heard a voice say. I turned to see Liam walking towards me. He wasn't dressed in bullet proof vests and gun slings anymore. He was back in casual clothing. It meant that we managed to escape.

  "Harry," I voiced. It was all I needed to say.

  "He's alright. In much better shape than you are. Your hand was severely injured, but your side was a mess. It took nearly five hours of surgery. You shouldn't be walking yet-"

  "Where is he? I need to see him," I insisted, and Liam frowned.

  "Louis, you will. I promise. But right now, you need to-"

  "Goddammit, Liam! I'm not fucking laying down until I know he's okay! I have to see him," I punched at the wall, remembering the torture he went through as well. "Please," I whimpered out.

  "Louis," Liam gasped. It was the most vulnerable he'd ever seen me. I didn't care that I was falling apart. I needed to make sure Harry was fine. I needed to know that my mistakes weren't weighing too heavily on him.

  "I fucked up, Liam. He was hurt. I couldn't..." I was choking on my own emotions. "I couldn't protect him."

  "Louis, he's okay. Really. Shaken up, but alright. None of the injuries he sustained were serious. Just a bruise on his cheek, minor cuts from a knife, and a minor head injury. It could have been bad, but he didn't hit the wall when the bomb went off. Niall made sure of that."