Good or Bad Influence? Larry Stylinson Fanfic

Chapter 32

Niall turned round, to see where to gun shot came from. Standing there, gun poised down at the body, was a silhouette of a woman. She was standing with one hand on her hip and in a hooked sort of fashion. As the smoke from the loud shotgun cleared, Niall could see who the intruder was.

It was Anne.

"Mrs Styels?" Niall asked, frantically getting up and putting his hands in the air.

"Put your hands down, Niall, I'm not going to shoot you. Look!" She pointed down once more to the body.

It was Louis' dad.

"Where did you get him?"

"In the back. He ain't gonna die, but I hope he does - H...Harry?!" She now noticed the four motionless bodies attached to the pipe.

"I-is he...?"

"I'm not sure." Niall had already pulled out his iPhone and dialed an amublance - luckily, the nearest hospital was a ten minute drive - five minutes, for an ambulance. "Hello, my best friends have been grievously injured- you have to hurry... I don't think... I don't think we have much time. Bring as much help... yes... it's um..."

Anne was crouched between Louis and Harry, hands on either of their cheeks, as Niall's voice faded, telling the hospital the address. She decided not to check Harry's pulse, just in case.

In case she was disappointed. She started to cry, cry like a maniac, like someone who just lost everything. Jo, Harry, Louis, Zayn. Were they going to make it? Even Liam, who was crumpled on the floor, was pretty beaten up.

Before Anne knew it, a flurry of green uniform rushed past her. She was sent back to her senses. "Put Louis and Harry in the same ambulance - they would like that."

Niall went in Zayn's and Jo's ambulance, whilst Anne went in Louis' and Harry's. Liam was being brought round; it turned out he fainted from shock.

And then she was in the hospital room. These were extra large - you could easily have three patients in one room, but Harry and Louis had one to themselves, their beds half a metre apart. The doctors had ran their tests and what not, and had been hooked up to heart monitors. It was clear that Louis' pulse was much more stronger than Harry's. Jo would be pleased.

"Ms Styels?" The doctor had walked in.

"Yes?" She sighed emptily.

"Your son has suffered a dangerous blow to the side of his head, but there's no chance of it having any lasting damage. However, we may of think he had some sort of cardiac arrest - his heart is pumping oddly. We will look further in to that."

"Th-thank you... so he will live?" Anne stood up, hands in a prayer-shape in front of her mouth.

"I'd hate to get hopes up, but, more than likely. It's more than I can say for some others."

"Who? Louis? Oh god, please don't tell me Louis' going to die, Harry'll be devastated."

"It's not Louis. Louis has probably suffered the least in all of this; he has a few deep cuts and some heavy bruising - he will come round in a few minutes, I reckon. His heart rate is healthy."

But then, who? The expression on Anne's face changed when she realised: Zayn, or Jo?

"Louis' mother had received the same damage as Harry - but her heart is much more healthy. As for Mr Malik..."

"Go on..."

"Zayn has been severely beaten up - he has received a number of blows to the head. I'm sorry to say, but Zayn may not make it."

A silence descended. "Poor, poor Niall." She went to follow the doctor out, but not before walking back over to the other two and joining their hands together. Before leaving, she blew a kiss.

"Hey, Anne." Jo's voice came from a bed on the right.

"Hello, love. Hey, Niall." Anne said, but Niall didn't turn round. He was staring at Zayn's bruised face, next to Liam, who was speaking to a police officer.

"What happened to Louis' father?"

"I'm not sure... I don't care. Hang on." She figured that if Jo had woken up, Harry and Louis would've as well.

Louis POV

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I wasn't tired in the slightest. The door slamming shut woke me up. Thanks goodness it did - I need my Haz.

I turned round to face my boyfriend, and he is staring back in to my eyes. He's awake as well. We are holding hands... how did that happen? I tried to say something, but nothing came out. My throat is too sore.

"We made it." Came the croaky voice of Harry. I smiled and as a reply, a tear rolled down my cheek. I dreaded to move, in case I was paralysed, but I knew I had to. First, my arms. I lifted them up at them same time, and it worked, lifting Harry's hand up at the same time. My legs worked too. But then I realised, why would I be paralysed?

Yesterday wasn't a blur, I could remember it clearly. I was woken up my Harry kissing my head, then drifnted off again. When I woke up again to get up, I noticed the whole flat was trashed and someone was in the kitchen. I then walked in there, a hairdryer in my hand (it was the only weapon I could muster) and whacked it against the stranger's head. But then I realised he wasn't a stranger; it was my dad. He took the hair dryer away from me and did something to make everything go black - I can't remember what. But then all I can remember after that was him trying to get information out of me: where Harry was, where he lived. I wouldn't tell him, so I constantly got beat up.

But when Harry came to rescue me I felt love I'd never felt before. I knew at that point I needed to be with him forever.

I turned roud again, staring in to Harry's eyes. "C-n wh, k-ss..." I tried to say out of my gunky, smoky throat. Harry obviously understood, as he removed his hand from mine and wheeled the bed towards his own, my heart monitor wheeling after it. Then, our beds connected, he slowly but surely moved on to the middle of our beds, signalling me to do the same. When we were next to each other, he said he couldn't move his head, so I did it for him, as I pressed my lips to his soft, wet ones. The kiss was magical. I was frowning with helplessness, my feelings overcoming me, as he opened his mouth slightly. Soon enough, I poked my tongue in, as he granted me access. It wasn't a battle of supremacy, it was just soft, gentle nudges, as our tongues slowly danced together. I heard his throat catch; he was obviously enjoying it too.