You Make My Heart Race • l.s

Nine

A/N:
Hey guys! so we both are super excited about this book, and how its been coming out so far! We really appreciate the support that we are getting from you guys so far, thank you!

This chapter was written by: qualitystylinson

~

The hospital was more chaotic that Saturday. It was a weekend, which means that kids were messing around and getting hurt, injuring themselves during sports, and god knows what else. Not to mention that Louis' heart was coming in early that morning, by eight at the latest. It didn't make the hospital more busy, but since he was Harry's patient it definitely made his morning more rushed.

As soon as he checked up on his other patients and ran a test on one of them, he joined Louis in his room. Dr. Yang was there as well, and together they told Louis about the procedure, what would happen, how long recovery time was, etc. Harry was nervous. Yes, he had done heart transplants, each time with a different problem, but he didn't know if he was ready for Louis', and he couldn't tell you why even if you asked.

"You're going to be fine, I'll make sure of it," Harry said softly, smiling at Louis when Dr. Yang left. She had shut the door behind her, which harry could only assume she was going to send over the nurses to the O.R get Louis prepped.

Louis nodded, "Come here," he said almost like a whisper, Harry just smiled softly at him, walking next to Louis' side. Louis didn't say anything. He just pulled Harry down by the arm, and hugging the doctor, snuggling slightly into the crook of Harrys' neck.

To say Louis was scared was understatement. He was terrified of what was to come and if those were his last moments. He wanted to last. He wanted his life to live on. "Kiss me please," he breathed, "if I don't make it," he paused sighing hugging Harry tighter, "just...please, one last time."

Thats all he needed to hear before Harry was pulling his head away from the hug, softly pressing his lips to Louis'. Their noses bumped, and it was a messy kiss in general, but Louis didn't care. He cupped Harry's face, a lone tear traveling down his cheek. When they pulled away, Harry kissed his forehead, and wiped the tear from his skin. "You'll be fine," he mumbled, "I promise you."

Harry held out his pinky. Louis looked at it. It was a silly thing to do, but he couldn't help himself. "Your such a dork," Louis chuckled as he locked their fingers.

"Cant help myself Lou, a promise is a promise right?" Louis gave him a nod, which he returned, and when the nurses came to take him to prep, Harry squeezed his hand tightly before letting him go.

Harry liked to scrub in in silence. Sometimes there would be more than one surgeon scrubbing in, which is why he usually went in earlier to do it by himself. It gave him a quietness that lets him ease himself and calm himself down. He could gather up his confidence to tell himself that he'll nail the surgery, even if it's one he isn't sure he'll be perfect on.

He watched Louis in the O.R., and wanted badly to assure him once again that he'd be just perfect. Instead, he looked down to shield his vision, and dried off his hands. His gloves, mask, and "cover up" was put on him by the nurse, to which he thanked her, not to anyone's surprise. Even the nurses had always loved Harry.

Louis looked lifeless with the tube in between his lips and his body under the light. Harry knew he's wasn't, if he was than they'd all be in trouble. But anyone on the table under the harsh surgery light always looked lifeless.

"Alright, Louis, time to shine," he sighed. Dr. Yang joined him a moment later, along with the scrub nurses, and with nothing more, Harry made the first cut.

It took a while just like any surgery. Four hours in this case. They fixed the damaged ventricle. Harry felt dreadful when watching Dr.Yang take out Louis' heart, but then when he got to put in the new one, his spirit lifted. It may not seem like it to others, but to surgeons healthy organs always look beautiful. This heart that Louis was getting, was a beautiful heart, and Harry was joyous to get to see it.

He and Dr. Yang put it in just how they were supposed to, but when it wasn't picking up, wasn't beating, that's when Harry got scared. His expression dropped, from a small smile, to a feared frown. The flatline beep was droning on, which always happened during heart transplants, but they're supposed to start working again within no time.

Harry reached his fingers into the body, and started massaging the heart, gently, and then added more pressured onto the heart when needed. It was what you were supposed to do in that situation, and if it didn't work, that's when you moved onto the paddles. "C'mon," Harry begged under his breath, glancing at the monitor but only for no change. "Please Lou," he whispered, barley audible.

"Get the paddles," Dr. Yang instructed. Harry carefully pulled his hands out and grabbed the tools from a scrub nurse, positioning them next to the open heart. "Charge to two hundred," Dr. Yang told one woman, who did what she was told.

"Clear!" Harry said loudly. They went off. Harry stared at the monitor. "C'mon, Louis... charge to two-fifty!" he waited for it to be set, "clear!" he exclaimed. Nothing. Nothing at all. He just needed one sign. "God please don't die on me, Louis," his breathing was shaky due to the situation, and he could feel the tightness in the back of his throat, as if he were to cry.

He glanced over to Dr. Yang who looked back at him knowingly. He ignored her look. "Charge to two-fifty!" he spoke. They set them, and he yelled clear.

Harry waited. Everyone in the room was holding their breath, hoping so badly for Louis' heart to wake up and To start working and give him a life again. Harry was shaken up.

The world seemed to stop in the anticipation of a sign that Louis' heart was working. He needed something, he needed to know that Louis make it out okay. He promised, and not to his surprise he cared deeply about the man. On day one Harry would've never pictured being as close as he was to Louis. But here he was, holding his breath, for something. Louis had to make it out of this, he just had to.

The flat line turned into a crooked one, signaling that the heart was beating again. Harry sighed heavily, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The heartbeat was steady, and Harry so desperately wanted to scream with relief. He was emotional, which wasn't something that he always did in the O.R., but this time was a rare occasion.

"Good work, Dr. Styles. Why don't you scrub out. I can close," she told him.

Harry didn't say anything, only nodded, his breathing heavy, and set the paddles down before exiting. He scrubbed out quickly, though when he was walking into the hallway the tightness in his throat was back, and he leaned back against the wall. Taking deep breaths, his arm thrown over his eyes as he slid down against the wall.

"I knew it," I held his head in his hands, and let out a muffled laugh, "I promised."