My BooBear

Day 38

Ok, this is going to be in regular story form because I felt like it. Hope y'all don't mind ;)

Read on my lovelies

(Cat's POV)

My ears are ringing. I hear a woman's voice coming through a tunnel, saying, "Jessie? Jessie, I'm the paramedic. Can you hear me?" Why would I need a paramedic? The lady touched my arm, and TNT went off in every single one of my nerve cells. Oh. That's why. She was looking at me expectantly, and with effort I groaned, "Unh...yes..." She was trying to move my arm into a more comfortable position, except it hurt like the hounds of hell were gnawing at my arm. I wanted to scream at her to just stop touching my arm, but I couldn't. The pain was fuzzing my vision again, and the paramedic lady was saying more but it sounded like I was underwater and her voice was a very long way away. The last thing I remember was the lady patting my hand before I blacked out.

***

When I woke up, everything was different. I was in a room with clean white walls, a little curtain on one side of my bed, and barely any furniture. A chair sat in the corner and a teeny bedside table stood next to the bed I was on. When I tried to sit up to examine the room further, my head throbbed in pain. Agh...I don't remember that hurting. My arm seemed to be okay, but when I tried to move it I discovered a cast around it. What? It must have been broken when I...when...what did I do to break it? The doctors office, the diagnosis...oh, that's right. The stairs. I tripped, I must have, but it felt like someone pushed me. All of a sudden the door cracked open, and a friendly-looking woman poked her head in. "Hello, Jessie!" she chirped. "My name is Cindy, and I'm going to be your nurse for the time being." I replied, "Hey, Cindy." She enthused, "Well, how are we feeling?" I answered sarcastically, "I don't know about you, but I'm doing ok." She bustled over to me and set about checking bandages and whatnot. "Anything hurting?" I answered, "Um...my head, my arm, and my leg." She pursed her lips. "Are you feeling well enough to see a visitor?" Instantly my mind went on high alert. Who would be here to see me in London? I asked hurriedly, "Who's here to see me?" Cindy the nurse tittered, "Your boyfriend. He's been in the lobby since you wre admitted." Shocked, I replied, "I don't have a boyfriend." She tittered again. "Well, then you've got a boy in the lobby who's real anxious to see you. Shall I send him up?" I nodded. Might as well see who was here. Cindy bustled her way out of my room, presumably to fetch my not-my-boyfriend. After a period of time I couldn't measure (there was no clock in my room) I heard footsteps. Then the mystery boy quietly entered my room, and I let out a squeal of surprise. Louis Tomlinson walked up to me, saying softly, "Cat? What happened to you?" My breathing was coming in short, quick gasps. Stunned, I shook my head. "No way. No way." His eyebrows wrinkled in concern. "Cat? What's wrong? Are you alright, love?" I finally managed to say, "Why are you here to see me?" Louis gave me a look as if it was obvious, then his face darkened.

(Louis's POV)

Of course. I forgot she didn't know. Carefully, I explained, "You said that you might need moral support at Dr. Carson's. So I went to the office, but you were already in there, so I waited outside. After a while, an ambulance pulled up and these paramedics loaded you inside. So I jumped in my car and followed it here. Then they made me wait to see you until now. So...yeah." I bit my lip and waited for my story to register. It's no surprise that she's apparently functioning a bit slowly, accounting for the enormous bandage wrapped around her head and the cast on her arm. Finally something clicked in her mind, and she looked up at me with a look of scandalized shock. "You're...you're the Louis I've been texting!" I nodded cheerfully. She ordered, "Come here, you." I oblidged. Then, with anger lacing her words, she gave me a vicious swat with her good hand and yelled, "Why didn't you tell me?! You know how important...well...you are to me!" She was flushed a furious red, but I could tell that she wasn't really angry. Unruffled, I said smoothly, "Do you want to hit me again? You look like you want to." Flustered, she replied, "Yes! I mean, no. Maybe? I mean...argh!" She gave up and delivered another swat to my arm. I laughed. "Oh, Cat. What happened to you?" She eyed me warily in a way that made me laugh again. Trying (and failing) to put ice in her voice, she warned, "Don't get too comfy. I'm still very angry with you." I nodded. "Right. I'm very uncomfortable." She eyed me as if to say, "Cut the sarcasm, buster." But she told me her story regardless. "So I went into her office, right? And we talked, she asked me questions and gave me crackers, and then she diagnosed me with 'severe clinical depression'." I caught my breath, but she didn't notice. She continued, "Everything was kind of hazy, and I wanted to leave, so I got up to go. Lindsey-sorry, Dr. Carson-was warning me about the stairs. I was trying to be careful, but when I fell, it wasn't as if I had tripped so much as...someone pushed me. But that's silly, because no one was there. I'm pretty sure. Anyway, I blacked out when I hit the floor, and when I woke up I was on a stretcher and this paramedic was talking to me. She kept moving my arm around and it hurt like the dickens, and I blacked out again. Then I woke up in here." I made a sympathetic face and sighed softly, "Oh, poor kitten. Are you in any pain?" I don't know why I called her kitten. It just felt right. She looked like she was doing a mental checkup, and she replied after a pause, "Well, my head kind of hurts, but it's nothing to worry about-" I cut her off by rushing to her side, my protective instincts kicking in. She rolled her eyes as I gently placed a hand on her cheek to check her temperature. "Lou," she said. My heart fluttered a bit at her use of my nickname. "Lou, I'm fine." I asked worriedly, "Are you sure? Do you need pain meds or something?" She graced me with a soft smile. "Lou. I can assure you, I'm okay." Still worried, I reluctantly conceded, "Fine. I'm glad." She gestured with the cast and ordered, "Help me up. I wanna give you a hug while you're still here." I was on my way over as soon as the word "help" crossed her lips, but I stopped suddenly. "What do you mean, while I'm still here?" She said impatiently, "You're famous. You're probably gonna be leaving soon for something more important than me. Now do I get that hug or not?" I stopped and said sternly, "Cat. Look at me." She did so reluctantly. "Nothing in the world is more important to me than you. Do you hear me? Do you understand?" She nodded. I held out a hand to help her up. A splash of white caught my eye as she swung her legs out of the covers, and I glanced down briefly to see a thickly wrapped bandage around her foot and ankle. Wanting to say something about it, I opened my mouth, but before a sound pass my lips she landed on the bandaged foot, screamed loud enough to wake up people in Ohio, and fainted dead away. In that order. I caught her quickly before she hit the ground, and no sooner had I done so then a squad of nurses came charging in. Most of them flocked to Cat, laying her back down in her sad little cot and checking vitals and such. A few, however, directed their attention towards me. One of the tougher-looking ones said gruffly, "Sir, we're going to have to ask you to leave." I protested, "But-" He cut me off. "Sir. You have to leave. Now." A couple of the nurses glared at me as I made my way to the door, and before I knew it I was back in that lobby that smelled like cabbage and old people. It seemed like it was over before it had really started. And I never did get that hug.

*A/N*
SORRY I DIDN'T UPDATE FOR THE LONGEST TIME AND SORRY FOR LEAVING YOU GUYS ON A CLIFFHANGER LAST CHAPTER AND SORRY FOR WHATEVER ELSE I SHOULD BE SORRY FOR BUT THANK YOU FOR READING REALLY I LOVE YOU GUYS