Sorcery (Louis Tomlinson)

xx. Golden

I wasn't looking forward to the next day when I went to bed that night. Not only did Louis have to go back to the Rift for his lessons, but I had to go to the hospital to turn in the heart monitor and have a check-up. No matter how magical the museum was, the next day would suck, no matter what optimism I would try and think about.

Louis was particularly crushed after we came home from the museum at the fact that he couldn't come with me as support to the hospital, settling with giving me his blue beanie that smelled like his shampoo as a piece of him instead.

So here I was, leaned up in annoyance against the silver walls of the Seattle hospital elevator with the heart monitor in hand and Louis' beanie on my head. Dad fiddled with medical papers in his hands, tired eyes looking over forms he has had to fill out too many times before, before leading me to the cardio ward's check-up center.

There weren't many people there, but my heart swelled with emotion when I saw a little boy who couldn't be more than six playing with his toy train on the ground, a heart monitor by his side and wires sticking out from his shirt. His mother was reading medical pamphlets in a chair by him, taking a moment every now and then to sneak a glance at her son happily playing with his trains, like if she didn't check he would just dissipate into thin air.

Dad must have caught me staring, because he nudged me in the side with his elbow.

"He's cute, isn't he? I remember when you were that age. All you wanted me to play with you was tea party, fancy clothes and everything." Dad chuckled, his humor not quite catching on with me.

"He's barely six." I almost whispered, my eyes unable to look away from the heartbreaking sight in front of me.

"And he's got a lot of life ahead of him." Dad whispered back, a small smile on his face as he looked at the boy.

"How do you know?"

"I'm secretly psychic." Dad whispered back, chuckling as I lightly hit his arm. "But seriously, I just have a feeling everything in life is gonna be okay for him."

"Mira Lane?" An assistant to Dr. Ellington called out my name just then, clad in light blue scrubs and clipboard with my entire medical history in her arms. I got up to follow her to my check-up room, Dad following until he was about to pass the little boy. He kneeled down next to the boy and I watched as Dad did what he did best: make people better, emotionally and physically.

"I like those trains, I used to have some when I was younger too." He told the small boy, the boy's mother smiling at him as Dad asked to see one of the model trains. The boy happily obliged, shoving multiple trains into Dad's arms and proceeding to show him his little conductor figurine that went with the set. Dad laughed before setting the trains down and taking the conductor in his hand, leaning in close to the boy to tell him something I couldn't hear.

"As long as you keep the conductor close, your trains won't wreck. Always keep him close, and nothing bad will happen." He assured the boy after he finished his secret talk, the boy's eager brown eyes were wide with amazement as he stared at his conductor figure. Dad got up and winked at the boy, ignoring my questions when he followed me into the check-up room. I could've sworn I saw the conductor shimmering with a golden hue, but when I looked again, the conductor was back to its normal color and the boy was still playing with his trains.

The check-up went as I expected: charts, tests, more charts, and more questions I've been asked so many times before. Dr. Ellington determined that I was fine (which I already knew) and that I could go home without an ICD as long as I stayed calm.

The ride back home was long and torturous, especially when I knew I wouldn't see Louis the whole day. I pulled the beanie a little more snug on my head at the thought, sighing as I saw the heavy rain droplets falling over Briarwood when we got back in town. They sky was a dark and angry grey, and occasionally lightning would crack in the sky, loud thunder echoing amongst the heavens.