Forget Me Not (Zayn/Harry; Mpreg AU)

Prologue - Welcome to hell

Harry practically flies through the seemingly endless halls of the hospital, searching frantically for the room with which his fiancé is in. Chest heaving with the labored breaths that he's taking, Harry manages to locate room 408 after a few more turns, bumps and hurried apologies. He spares a quick glance to the name attached on the door and heads inside.

Malik, Zayn

Zayn is up when Harry enters the room. With a quick scan of Zayn's body and face, Harry is able to spot the injuries that he has received from the accident. Scratches litter the swollen right side of Zayn's face and his right arm is in a sling. From them alone, Harry is able to deduce that the right side of Zayn's body has gotten the brunt of the crash. Moving on, Harry's green eyes catch sight of bandages wrapped thickly around Zayn's head, a barely visible patch of blood seeping through it.

"Baby," Harry gasps in alarm, eyes welling up with tears. He rushes to gather Zayn's body in a tight embrace, so overwhelmed that he missed the stiffness of Zayn's body as a reaction. He pulls back and proceeds to gently cup Zayn's face in between his clammy palms. His wild green eyes boring into confused brown irises. "Zayn. My love. My life, don't you fucking scare me like that again, you hear? Oh, Zayn. What are you feeling? Do you want me to call the nurse? A doctor? Does it hurt anywhere?"

Using his uninjured hand, Zayn slowly pries Harry's hands away from his face. He then leans back against the pillows propped on his back, a suspicious expression on his face.

"Who the hell are you?"

Harry is taken aback. He tilts his head to the side and points to himself. "You don't know me?"

With a nod, Zayn says, "That's exactly the point of my question. So yes, I don't know you."

"I'm, uh, Harry," Harry says with a shrug, looking helpless and suddenly small, his shoulders slouched. "Zayn, if you're taking the piss, this is not funny."

Zayn frowns. "I'm not joking," he scoffs. "Why the fuck would I joke around in a time like this? I haven't seen your bloody face once in my life."

"Zayn, stop it," Harry pleads, his face contorted into an expression of pure pain. What is happening? "Please, s-stop. I'm Harry. I'm your--"

"Stalker."

"Mrs. Malik," Harry acknowledges softly, his head ducking down to avoid her accusing stare.

The door shuts close as Trisha Malik, in all her regal glory, and Gigi Hadid, Zayn's ex-girlfriend, enter the sterile room. Trisha gives Harry a look of contempt, her normally tranquil brown eyes blazing with anger. Gigi, on the other hand, pushes Harry to the side and gathers Zayn in a hug, kissing his cheek. Harry hears her ask, "Are you alright, love?" to which Zayn responds with a nod and a sweet little smile that Harry desperately wants one for himself.

"Zayn, sunshine," Trisha starts in a sickeningly sweet tone. A wicked smile is stretched across her painted lips. "Look into the face of the man who cost you half of your life."

"What?" Harry whispers to himself, baffled. He watches with absolutely no idea as Zayn turns from confused to furious in a matter of seconds, cheeks darkening with angered blood as realization dawns on him.

"What's he doing here?" Zayn growls.

"Harry Styles is completely mad for you. He follows you everywhere that you go."