The Angel with Papery Wings [prequel]

ch.40

I have lost my mind, along with any sensation in my body. I laid on the murky street, trying to clutch my broken bones, but it pained me to move my fingers, let alone my arms. To be honest, I didn't care that I was probably dying on the side of a street and no one even noticed.

If getting beaten meant Louis would leave Angela alone, then I'd lay there and let his friends stab me with butcher knives. It was much less painful than being utterly in love with someone that hated your guts.

In the distance, I squinted and saw a head of blonde hair and a taller man with hair as dark as gasoline. I took a strained breath, clutching my left rib. My lungs felt limp.

"Shit, Harry, are you ok?!" Tony gasped as he scanned my numb body. Zayn didn't bother with the questions, he knelt down and slid his arm under my back to scoop me up.

"Fuck," I gasped breathlessly. His hand gripped me too tightly. 

"Sorry, man," Zayn mumbled. Tony knelt down and hoisted me up, resting an arm at my hip. The three of us walked slowly.

"Should I even ask what happened?" Tony shook his head, looking down at me. 

"No," I mumbled. I could barely part my swollen lips, let alone to speak coherently.

Zayn and Tony half tugged, half carried me along. Once we reached Zayn's truck, they hauled me inside carefully and laid me down. 

"Don't move, Harry, we'll fix you up," they nodded. I merely stared at them blankly. It's not like I could move in the first place.

My eyes fluttered open and closed to the jagged rhythm of Zayn's truck. Tony glanced at me every now and then to make sure I didn't fall off the seat and damage any more bones.

We passed by Angie's house on our way to the hospital.

"Is Angie ok?" I asked randomly. My chest tightened. What if Louis had beaten me in order to render me helpless so I couldn't protect Angela?

"What?" Tony furrowed his brow.

"It's the weed talking," Zayn laughed. Tony turned his head and sighed loudly. 

"Harry, you gotta lay off that shit," he warned softly, patting my head. Zayn parked outside the hospital and the two of them half carried, half yanked me inside. The nurses nearly screamed at the sight of us: three tattooed, grubby looking men.

Even so, Tony shouted for a bed and a hot meal. Zayn knelt down beside me as the nurses led me to a room. 

"By the way, Angela's ok," he told me. 

Despite my busted lip and swollen eyes, that little snippet of information made me smile. Zayn rubbed my shoulder, easing some of the tension in my taut muscles and bruised flesh. 

"You have really pretty eyes, Zayn. I'd totally go gay for you, man," I murmured sleepily. 

Zayn laughed. "So I've been told." 

The doctor shook his head as he entered the room.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" he smirked.

"They got me bad, didn't they, doc?" I chuckled hoarsely. Even my lungs felt sore. The doctor nodded. I wasn't sure exactly what happened next but he gave me some meds that made my lids droopy.

***

I woke up to the sound of a girl crying. 

"Angela!?" I shouted breathlessly, sitting up on my bed. I gritted my jaw as a sharp pain simmered in my gut.