The Ring Of Fire || L.S ✔

8. A Chill in the Air

How much grief will the air endure,
How much blood will the water?
A man lost his son once
Now another risks his daughter.

TW: blood and gore

Bering sea, North Pacific Ocean

Late October, 2022

Drowning sucked.

Drowning fifty feet BSL sucked even more.... Because of the added pressure.

But at least he was still alive.

It was dark when he woke up. And the very first thing Harry noticed was the oxygen mask stuck to his face. A faint hissing sound accompanying it.

For a second, he was scared out of his mind, thinking he was still trapped underwater. He sat up straight, all hints of drowsiness gone. He needed to get out! He needed to breathe! Harry stared clawing at the mask, to get it out. It was suffocating him!

"Hey... Easy there! You need that." An arm then reached out to steady him and both his wrist were firmly pulled away from his face and held down on his lap. "That's it love. You're okay. You got out."

Harry blinked. Blue eyes looked back in concern. Harry blinked again.

He was not in water! That part alone warranted a party. He was sitting on one of the four huge infirmary beds. And like most of the ship, it excluded undiluted comfort. So much so that he again wanted to sink under the covers and not wake up for an eternity.

The night light was on, and the shadows danced. The cupboards and the oxygen stand next to his bed continued to sway. There was a storm brewing outside.

"Harry?" Louis asked with a soft smile. "You in there?"

Harry hummed, now looking at his bedside. Someone must have had a lot of free time to construct the proud mini pyramid of Pringle cans. But looking at the snacks turned out to be a bad Idea.

His stomach rolled painfully and he bent forward, clutching his mouth . Louis was quick to his side holding a bowl. But nothing came up as he continued to dry heave. His hand now pressed weakly into his chest. It ached with a dull throb while his stomach felt knotted and woefully empty.

Harry's hands stilled. He was holding back tears.

"We had to pump you..." Louis spoke softly. "You had swallowed too much brine."

Harry didn't look up, but rather felt it when Louis sat down. Not in the chair but on the bed, facing him. His hands slowly started caressing his legs, as if too comfort him. But Harry went rigid.

He wanted nothing to do with the man anymore. It may be harsh of him, considering Louis had just saved him from drowning. But that didn't matter. When he finally did look up, all pretenses fell.

Louis appeared as elegant as always. Crisp black turtleneck with a pair of Levi's. His hair pulled back into a sided quiff. He looked ready to walk down a red carpet and deliver a couple of speeches. Or be placed in an art gallery to put a spell on the world.

But his eyes - they were worn out. So tired and frustrated and afraid. Harry again felt that need to hear him out. To know why he did what he did all those years ago. Because even monsters couldn't be that inhumane. Something didn't add up. And Harry trusted his intuition.

"What happened?"

Louis' eyes actually lit up when he heard his voice. He reached out his hands to grab Harry's but Harry shook his head. Louis pulled back immediately and tried to keep the sadness from showing. But he was unsuccessful .