Fighting the Sunset

Chapter three, "I have cancer."

"You can talk to me Lou," Harry said, resting an encouraging hand on Louis leg as he drove. He hadn't stopped glancing over at Louis since they'd left the doctor's and he'd seen the expressions flickering, changing, signalling the immense whirlwind of thoughts spiraling around in Louis' head.

"You don't have to think through everything on your own."

Harry smiled gently as Louis lifted his gaze from his lap to meet his eyes.

"He didn't know what's wrong with me," Louis whispered, remembering the bewildered frown on the doctor's leathered features as Harry listed off everything that had been happening.

"He'll have a better idea one he sees the results of all those tests you did, Sweetheart," Harry promised, "and then we'll know how to get you feeling better."

Louis bit his lip. "What if they can't make me better? What if 'm not okay? What if I'm dying?" He asked, his voice strangely flat.

At first, Harry thought he was joking, but when he turned his head to glance at Louis, the sad look in his eyes made it evident he was serious. "Babe. . ." Harry said softly, "you're not dying. You're gonna be okay, yeah?"

Louis nodded solemnly and then remained quiet for the rest of the car ride.

When they arrived home, Louis went straight back to bed, not getting up until seven pm, when Harry insisted he eat something. Louis of course didn't want to, and Harry ending up spoon feeding him chicken broth in bed, because Louis' couldn't handle anything else, nor did he want to.

He just wanted to sleep.

He wasn't hungry, and he made that known by throwing up the soup an hour later. The two of them were both in for a long couple days, Louis was growing worse by the minute. Harry hoped they received the results soon and they could be told what to do because nothing he did made any difference to Louis' condition.

It was two days later and Harry and Louis were both still in bed when the call finally came. Harry was wide awake, carding his fingers through Louis' hair to fight of his fidgets, and Louis was still in a deep sleep. Harry didn't want to move and wake him, but the phone kept ringing and he scrambled for it when he remembered the call they were expecting about Louis' tests.

He patted Louis legs apologetically when he groaned and woke.

"Hey," Harry answered the call. Luckily he'd picked up, because it was in fact the call about Louis tests. However, it wasn't the clinic who was ringing. The results had been passed on the local hospital for speculation and now they wanted Louis to come in as soon as possible, in the next day or so if he could manage it. Harry hummed and kept up as best as he could with the lady on the other end of the phone but he couldn't stop looking over at Louis and the confused and curious look on his face kept distracting him.

"There's an appointment free at four, if that works?"

Harry squeezed Louis' knee, "we can manage that, uh, thank you."
"That's okay Hun, I'll add his name right away. Goodbye."

The line went dead and Harry placed his phone back on the bedside table.

"Who was that Haz?" Louis asked.

Harry gave him a small smile. That was probably the longest sentence Louis had said since he expressed his thoughts about dying to Harry.

"The receptionist, I assume, from the hospital. They were sent your test results and want to see you later today," Harry replied, "she didn't say much else."

Louis took a shuddery breath, "today?"

"Yeah Babe, four o'clock," Harry answered.

"Finally," Louis murmured, closing his eyes again.