Yours, Mine and Ours. [ Larry Stylinson - MPreg]

one.

LAKELAND GENERAL

Harry paced the waiting room. Images of the last hour replaying in his head. He blamed himself for not being there for Louis. For not being able to stop him from getting hurt. He blamed himself for not going to get the blanket himself because maybe, if he had, it would be him in the hospital right now. It would be him needing surgery. It would be him. Why couldn't it be him? Harry let out a heavy sigh and plopped into an empty waiting room chair. He leaned back and looked to the ceiling, trying to tell himself everything would be okay. But that didn't stop his eyes from welling up with tears. He swallowed hard and leaned forward, burying his face in his hands, his cries soaking into the splint on his right hand.

A moment later, something touched his shoulder. He glanced up from his hands to see Jazzlyn, offering a cup of coffee. Harry thanked her with a weak smile and took the cup. He held it in his hands to warm them from the chill of the hospital. Jazzlyn sat down beside him and took a sip of her coffee. "Any news?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. He stared at the steam wafting out of the lid of his coffee. His stomach hurt too much do drink but smell calmed him.

Jazzlyn frowned. "And the babies?"

"Niall's watching them," Harry finally spoke, though his voice was soft and small. He set the coffee on the table beside his chair then, licked his lips and leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the wall. "Figured it was better not to bring them here." Jazzlyn replied with a nod and took another sip of her coffee. She leaned back in her chair and let out a small sigh. Harry turned, just his head, to face her. "I'm glad you're here," he said, thankfully.

Jazzlyn turned to face Harry and gave him a warm, comforting smile, "Of course." Harry turned away and leaned forward in his seat, his elbows on his thighs, and rested his chin in his hand. Jazzlyn cleared her throat and took a sip of coffee. Then, leaned forward in her seat and, softly, asked, "So what exactly happened?"

Harry stared at the clock on the wall. "Paparazzi attacked him," he replied, flatly.

"D-do you know why?"

Harry shook his head. "I wasn't there," he sighed, heavily, leaning back in his chair. He looked to his coffee and started spinning it, on the table, with one hand. "We only knew it was the pap because Niall had to tell them off," he continued, his voice heavy with regret. His eyes began to well up again. He tried closing them to keep from crying, but it didn't work. Harry inhaled, sharply, and covered his face with his hands to muffle his cry.

Jazzlyn turned to him and frowned. She tilted her head, slightly, and gently ran her fingers along Harry's back. "Awe Harry," she comforted, "he'll be alright." Harry's throat burned too much to answer.

Just then, there was a knock on the waiting room door. Jazzlyn looked up to see a nurse opening the door and letting themselves in. She wrinkled her brow, watching curiously, as the nurse made her way over to Harry and squatted in front of him. She put a hand on Harry's leg and caressed his thigh. Tilting her head, slightly, to meet Harry's eyes, she softly said, "Harry?"

Harry looked up, his eyes swollen and red. "Nurse Casey?" he said, his voice soft and sticky. Casey flashed him a smile. Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed, "How is he?"

"They're bringing him out of surgery now," she said. Harry closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, letting out a sigh of relief. Casey took a seat on the edge of the side table and put her hand on top of Harry's. Feeling her touch, Harry's eyes jerked open, and he turned to her, his eyes full of worry. Casey pursed her lips then, frowned, making small circles on Harry's hand with her thumb. "The doctors wanted me to let you know that they, unfortunately, had to remove one of his ovaries," she informed, apologetically. "They said there was trauma to one of them and that Louis had a bruise on his abdomen that looked as though someone kicked him."