Who We Were Born To Be (Niam) [ON HOLD]

Chapter 1: Memories

Chapter 1

Harry's point of view

Harry blinked his eyes, woken by the bright light. Why does it have to be so bright when I'm trying to sleep? he wondered. Did Louis turn the lights on?

Reluctantly, Harry opened his eyes, to find himself in a hotel room. Bright sunlight was streaming around the closed curtains. Harry turned to look at the clock on the bedside table. It read 1:17pm. Well that explains the sunlight. We must have had a late night last night.

Memory crashed back a moment later, and Harry's eyes bulged with recollection. He turned and threw up over the side of the bed.

Ewww...

Harry dragged himself out of bed and to the bathroom, where he cleaned his teeth. Then he walked into the shower and turned the water on. He flinched at the initial coldness, but simply stood under it numbly until it warmed up. He let it get hot until it was searing his skin, and then turned it down a little. After a moment he reached for the soap. What's the point? he wondered. Not even all the soap in the world can wash off all the blood on our hands... Despite his dark thoughts, or perhaps because of them, he scrubbed himself extra thoroughly.

After standing under the hot water for a good half hour, Harry got out and dried himself and then wandered out of his room into the common area that connected the boy's rooms wearing only a towel. Paul was there, looking worried. “I threw up on the floor,” Harry told him. “Might wanna get someone to clean it up.” Paul nodded and turned to arrange it. It wasn't the first time one of the boys had thrown up in their hotel rooms. Though it's usually caused by too much alcohol, Harry thought wryly.

Zayn and Liam were both in the common area. Usually they would be playing computer games, or watching TV, or chatting, or listening to music. They were doing none of those things. Instead they were just sitting and staring into space. I'm not surprised.

Harry joined them. Random memories from the day before flitted across his mind. Gunfire. Explosions. The terror. Screams. Finding James. Paul's voice broke into the images replaying themselves across his mind, “Your room's been cleaned Harry, if you want to go back in it.” Harry nodded vaguely, acknowledging Paul's statement without really hearing it.

Harry's mind went back to the images. Sitting on the hilltop. Driving to Guantanamo. Pulling off the front doors. And then the killings.

“Harry...” Paul's voice came to him faintly, quiet compared to the fighting Harry was recalling.

Harry closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head to dispel the images, and focused on the present. Harry turned to Paul. “Yeah?”

“You boys have a concert scheduled for tonight...” Paul said, trailing off. Oh yeah, that's right. Music.

Harry resisted the sudden urge to laugh insanely. He forced himself to reply quietly. “Sorry Paul. No can do.”

Harry expected Paul to tell him that he didn't have a choice, that he had to do it. At the very least, he expected Paul to argue the point. To his surprise, Paul simply nodded. “The other boys are all saying the same thing,” Paul replied. He shrugged. “We'll cancel it then.” Paul turned and walked off.

Whatever happened to 'the show must go on'? Harry wondered. Apparently it doesn't have to.

Louis' point of view

Louis looked at his watch and sighed. Well we just missed our own concert. He felt sorry for the fans they'd let down.

It's just peachy, isn't it? As if everything else wasn't enough, now we get to let our fans down too...