Taking Chances (Niall Horan Punk Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Thirty-One: "Afraid"

Instantly, every single bad to worse possibility ran through my head at lighting speed, throwing me even more for a loop.

The bullet could not be removed, he had internal bleeding, something ruptured, they could not get him to wake up, he fell into a coma, he's bleeding out, he's de-

I stopped thinking about the possibilities when my mind hit the extreme mark, and I looked up at the doctors with wide, frightened eyes. He knew how I was feeling, too, but he didn't mention it. Instead, he nodded his head over farther into the hallway, motioning to me that he wanted to speak privately.

I tried my absolute best to keep my thoughts from going wild like it had just a second ago as we walked away, and when he stopped I found it almost hard to breathe. This doctor was the one who treated Niall two days ago, and I'm sure he's wondering why the hell we were back so soon, with a gun shot wound this time. Believe me, I was hating myself every second because of what Niall has been through for me. It killed me worse than anything ever has.

"I didn't expect you to back so soon," he said when we were away from Claire and Harry. "May I ask what happened this time?"

I explained the events of today, carefully giving him the information that was held through my brain, a vicious cycle that liked to repeat itself for me.

When I finished with bringing Niall here, the doctor nodded understandingly, surprising me to say the least.

"We removed the bullet, and we have cleaned the wound, but Ms. Payne, there were a lot of complications. For example, the bullet was only inches away from his liver, and had we made even the slightest wrong move, it would have entered and ruptured. Luckily, we were able to remove it without rupturing his liver, and he is in full recovery."

Every word he said, every syllable, it all made a great weight fall right off my shoulders. He was okay, and he was going to do great soon. He was okay...

"He isn't awake at the moment, but he should be awake soon enough. He'll need a few days to rest, and he should at least be up and around by Monday. Until then, you and your friends are more than welcome to stay and visit."

"Thank you so much," I almost gasped, feeling a fluttering in my heart. He was alive. He was okay. I couldn't have been happier.

He nodded before stalking away down the hallway, leaving me to smile like an idiot. I honestly didn't know what to do with myself, let alone think about what I wanted to do next.

Well, that was a stupid thought, because I knew I wanted to see him. I wanted to say what he probably didn't hear me say. I wanted to let him know that I will always be by his side no matter what he did in his past, or how dirty he thought he got his hands.

I wanted him to know that I love him.

When I finally realized where I was and my exact intentions, I got my legs moving and turned back to the waiting room. Harry and Claire jumped up the second they saw me, anxious to hear the news.

I explained everything the doctor had told me himself, and laughed when they jumped in excitement. Then it came down to deciding who saw him first, and both Harry and Claire were dead-set on me going first.

At first I constantly refused, telling them I was first last time, but Claire brought up a point that was quite soft for me.

"Brielle, we heard you when you were telling him to wake up," she told me, her eyes extremely gentle and soft, as if she was afraid to admit something that would make me upset. "If anything, you deserve to see him first, because we all know how hard it is for you to fall in love again. And for you to break through when you didn't know where else to go, no one should see you torture yourself over not seeing him as soon as you can. You need this more than any of us."