Harry was pacing outside the door, still in his concert garb. Something Louis told him was a bit too ridiculously sparkly. It didn't matter though. It didn't matter because Louis was in the room behind him, and the diagnosis-Christ, he didn't want to think about the diagnosis. They weren't sure what it was yet, but after they brought him to the hospital, they ran too many tests for him to count. Because he had a fucking seizure in the front row of his show.
He got into a good rhythm in his pacing. Three steps one way, three steps back. He knew if Louis was awake he would shout at him to stop, but he couldn't help it. His nails were already chewed to the nub and there was nothing else he could do to calm his nerves. He couldn't stop thinking about what would have happened if he cancelled the show. If he would have took Louis to the doctor like he wanted. How serious Louis's headaches really were, and based off of what had happened tonight, he couldn't imagine it wouldn't be something serious. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought about how the media must have been having a field day with this story. They had done their best to keep Louis's true identity under wraps, but there was no telling who saw him. Rumors would spread like wildfire and there was nothing he could do except stay silent.
"Harry?" It was faint, far away but he heard the exhausted voice calling him from the room behind him. When he got closer, he saw the smile on his thin, chapped lips. He was so pale, like that golden tan he always maintained vanished in just a couple hours. "What are you doing pacing, love? You'll drive me crazy with that."
"I know." Harry replied, he held one of Louis's hands in both of his, and kissed his fingers. "I was worried about you."
"I'm alright." Louis said quietly. "You didn't have to get all dressed up for me, though." Harry laughed through the tears that had quickly swelled under his eyes, and quickly wiped them away with the back of his sleeve. "Seriously, love. You look fit."
"Oh, shut up." Harry managed. His throat was tight with emotion because Louis was Louis. Somehow through all of the pain he was going through, he still knew how to make Harry laugh. He still knew how to make things a little better, like the light shining at the end of the tunnel. "Are you alright, darling? Honest?"
"Honestly I'm just tired. My head hurts. I want to go home." He looked at Harry with sleepy eyes. He seemed so small in the hospital bed. Briefly, he wondered if they had given Louis an oversized bed.
"We'll go soon. I'll get you to some doctors there and we can figure this out." Harry said. Louis blinked slowly, and he thought he would drift back to sleep soon but the knock on the door quickly disrupted those thoughts. Harry looked up, and saw that same doctor he met when they walked in. His name was Dr. Wilson- something or the other, Harry didn't know, and quite frankly didn't care. But he listened to him talk, listened to him explain that there wasn't much they could do for Louis anymore. That it was too late, maybe if they had caught it sooner, they could have done something. Because there was a tumor eating away at Louis's beautiful, beautiful brain. Surgery was an option, but there was no promises that it would be of much help.
They barely got an apology out of the man, for Christ's sake. He was probably one of the most soul-less, vile creatures that Harry had ever met. To deliver a bomb like that and just walk away? Maybe he had gotten so numb to the pain, maybe he had done this every day. But he didn't have to say it to Louis. To his Louis. Shouldn't it be different telling his Louis that he was going to die? No. Of course not. Louis was just another patient to that man. All he did was list off a bunch of side effects that Harry should expect. Weight loss, memory loss, mood swings, nausea, vomiting, headaches, the whole lot. Basically, everything that Louis was already going through and plus a couple more.
"Harry." Louis said. He looked up and realized that the doctor must have been gone for quite some time now, and yet he still had nothing to say. What could he say?
