Stranded/ Larry Stylinson

Chapter 18

3rd Person
"We've got a pulse!" the paramedic exclaimed, a smile breaking across her face. "He's breathing!"

Louis' knees gave out and he collapsed onto the wet floor, sobbing with relief. Harry was alive. They had found him in time.

The paramedics quickly lifted Harry onto a stretcher, wrapping him in blankets to keep him warm. Louis followed them to the ambulance, refusing to leave Harry's side.

"You're going to be okay," he whispered, holding Harry's hand tightly. "We're going to get you through this."

Harry's eyes fluttered open for a moment, and he looked up at Louis, his gaze unfocused but filled with a flicker of recognition. "Louis..." he murmured weakly.

"I'm here, Hazza," Louis said, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm right here."

The ambulance sped towards the hospital, its sirens blaring. Louis sat beside Harry, his heart aching with a mix of relief and fear. He couldn't lose Harry now. Not after everything they had been through.
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The first few days in the hospital were a blur for Louis. Harry was in critical condition and though he was alive, he remained unconscious. The doctors explained that Harry had been severely dehydrated and malnourished and his body was weak from the prolonged ordeal. They assured Louis that they were doing everything they could but the waiting was unbearable.

Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn spent hours in the waiting room, their nerves frayed and their hope hanging by a thread. The antiseptic smell of the hospital, the constant beeping of machines, and the low murmur of voices created an oppressive atmosphere that seemed to suffocate them.

Louis sat hunched in a plastic chair, his hands trembling as he clutched his phone. He had been updating Harry's family and close friends, trying to offer them some reassurance but it was difficult when he felt so helpless himself. Every time a doctor or nurse walked by, his heart skipped a beat, hoping for news.

Liam, ever the steady presence, tried to keep everyone's spirits up. He brought coffee and snacks from the cafeteria, though none of them had much of an appetite. Niall paced the room, unable to sit still, while Zayn sat silently in a corner, lost in his own thoughts.

"He's strong, Lou," Liam said softly, sitting down next to him. "Harry's a fighter. He'll pull through this."

Louis nodded but the fear gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the image of Harry's lifeless body, the coldness of his skin, the fragility of his breath. "I just... I can't lose him, Liam," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't wake up again."

Liam put an arm around Louis' shoulders, pulling him into a comforting embrace. "We'll get through this together. Harry needs us to be strong for him."

As the hours dragged on, the boys took turns visiting Harry's room. He was hooked up to various machines, an oxygen mask covering his face. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was both a comfort and a source of anxiety, a constant reminder of Harry's tenuous grip on life.

Louis spent most of his time by Harry's bedside, holding his hand and talking to him, hoping that somehow, his words would reach Harry and bring him back. He recounted their memories, shared stories from their past, and whispered promises for the future.

"Remember our trip to the beach?" Louis said softly, his voice filled with longing. "You got so sunburned but you refused to leave because you were having too much fun. We built that massive sandcastle, and you insisted it needed a moat. God, Harry, we laughed so much that day."

He squeezed Harry's hand, his eyes filling with tears. "You have to wake up, Haz. We have so many more memories to make. We need you. I need you..."
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