I'd Choose You Again Tomorrow [L.S]

Chapter Eight

~~ H ~~

Louis doesn't react. He simply lies there with a tightly drawn expression, staring at him.

Four years, it's been four years.

"You were unconscious when the emergency services arrived at the scene," He rambles on, unable to contain the words now he's started, "You were raced here, to London Bridge, with a severed femoral artery and dislocated knee, they took you straight into surgery before any of us arrived. They managed to salvage the blood flow down through to your lower leg and miraculously the muscle didn't die as a response to the lack of blood. By the time you were out from surgery we were all here, we kept waiting for you to wake up from being under but you..." His voice finally cracks then, head folding down to his chest as he struggles to continue breathing. He can't be doing this here, not now. Not when Louis has just woken up and is being overloaded with information, has just been told he's been in a coma for four fucking years.

He's had this conversation planned out in his head for years. Has gone through it so many times he should have been able to recite it from memory each and every word he was to say to Louis when he finally woke, he won't falter now.

"I'd have waited till the end of time for you to come back to me, back to all of us." He adds after a moment after glancing back to Jay, not caring for a moment for cheesy those words sound when he so genuinely means every word.

He watches as Louis' breathes become shallow, his chest rising slower and slower and it takes a moment before either he or Jay realise that he's going into shock.

He's standing in a matter of moments, leaning forward over Louis' bed, hands framing either side of his as if to hold him together. Louis' eyes are dilated, can almost see his mind tumbling down under a wave of realization about what has happened to him. Instead of panicking he's shutting down, unable to process all of this information at once.

"Lou, Lou look at me." He tries, tracing his thumb over the sharp angles of his check bones, "Love I need you to focus on me, listen to my voice ok?" Louis' eyes meet his but they're too dazed still, far from present. "You have to breathe for me love, just like we've always done when we're having a panic attack. In and out, slow and easy alright? Follow me, I need you to breathe with me my love." Reaching one hand down he gently grasps Louis' right hand, raising it to press against his own chest and holding it firmly in place. "Just like this." He prays that Louis can't feel his racing pulse, instead that he focuses on the slow intakes of breathe he forces himself to take. "Five things Lou, five things that you can see, tell me them."

There's several beats of silence both Louis manages to force out anything. "The lights, the wires..." He pauses to take another shaky, shallow breathe, "Mum, the window... your rings."

"Good love, really good but I need you to keep going, four things you can touch."

"The... the blanket, the bed frame, your shirt," He says, fingers digging ever so slightly into the fabric to accentuate his point, "your..." Louis starts but stammers over a slight laugh, his eyes sparking with something, "your rings."

"Hear, three things Lou."

"The heart monitor, traffic outside, your voice."

"Not the rings?" He tries, knowing Louis will register his attempt at humour. It succeeds, a private smile beginning to shine through.

"Humour was never your strong point Haz."

Haz.

How many nights has he lain awake with all sense lost simply praying to hear Louis' voice utter that name just one more time.