Run From the Demons (Supernatural/One Direction crossover)

Chapter Thirty Four

Louis’ P.O.V

It’s been two days since we came to the hospital, and I haven’t left the building once. I barely eat, I barely sleep, and I barely talk to anyone. Whenever someone tries to get me to eat, I only take a few bites then shove the food away from me. Whenever someone tries to get me to go out to a restaurant and take a break from here, I refuse. Whenever someone tries to start a conversation with me, I will barely even respond. I’ve barely even left Alexis’ side since we came here. I’ve only left a couple times to see Zayn and use the washroom, but other than that, I am with Alexis. I can’t help but feel guilty for some odd reason. I just feel like I need to be with her. Like if I don’t, she will leave me forever, and I can’t have that.

The doctors have been coming in every so often to check up on Alexis and I. I don’t really talk much, because I only want to know if Alexis is okay. I don’t care about me, all I care about is her. The doctor said last night that there is a slight chance that she won’t make it. I actually just started crying right there and then. I need Alexis in my life. I would die for this girl, and yet, she might die here because her, Cali and the boys tried to save me. 

I sit here on the uncomfortable hospital chair, alone, just staring at Alexis, not even touching her hand. I feel like if I touch her, something horrible will happen. I also feel like she’ll just slip away from my pale fingers if I touch her. I just don’t want to touch her, no holding her hand, no kissing her forehead, nothing. The heart monitor beeps in the background, and I pay close attention to it for incase that it goes flat. I don’t want it to go flat though. I can’t lose Alexis, I just can’t, and I won’t. I just stare at her pale face, the oxygen mask covering her pale lips. She stays as still as a statue, not moving once.

I don’t cry so much anymore. I don’t have the energy to cry. I cried for three or more hours last night and maybe even five hours the night before. I think I’ve run out of tears, and I think I’ve almost lost the ability to cry. All I feel now is sadness, confusion, anger, and emptiness inside me. Sadness because she is in a coma, confusion because I still don’t remember what happened two nights ago, anger towards whoever did this to my beautiful girl, and emptiness because I don’t get to see her bright blue eyes. I don’t get to see her beautiful smile, hear her angelic voice, or hear her light laugh. I don’t get to watch her when she smiles for no reason. I miss her. I know she isn’t dead, but the doctor said that her injuries were very serious and there is a slight possibility that she won’t make it. I’m just praying that she will make it, and that she will be okay. I’m praying that I will get to see her smile, hear her laugh, or watch her dance around like a complete idiot. I would take a bullet to the head for this girl, and if she’s gone, I will never be the same again.

I hear a door creaking, and look to see Harry and Zayn by the door. Harry still looks like a mess, but he looks much better now. Some of the color has returned to his face, his eyes are looking brighter now. His eyes still look a little puffy from crying. He has bandages all over him where cuts were, and his black eye is starting to fade a little. There is some gauze around his hand where the cut was. I still have no idea how it got cut. Harry is pushing Zayn in a wheelchair. Zayn still looks awfully pale and weak. His brown eyes are still dull, and he still has the dark bags under his eyes. His face is sort of sunken in, and he looks really tired. The cuts that were all over his skin are now covered in bandages. I can see him wince every time her makes a small move. He has a bandage wrapped around his hand as well, the same one as Harry’s. I am starting to find that strange. 

They both put on weak smiles as Harry starts to wheel Zayn over to Alexis’ bed with me. “Hey…” I say, trying to make my voice a little happier, but I don’t make myself very convincing.