Direction Dreamer

Chapter Thirty One

Author's Note: Awh, poor Niall! I bet you're all going to skip this so you can read what happens next, but I'm doing much better than I was yesterday and was able to write quite a bit today - I have only FOUR more chapters of Direction Dreamer, and then I'll begin my spin-off story, MAYBE. I haven't gotten much feedback or votes lately, so I assume my last couple of chapters have been awful... I apologize! The whole hospital thing really put me off track, I hope this chapter maybe mixes things up a bit! Comment, VOTE, fan me lovelies! Oh and though it's late, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR BOYS, CHEERS FOR TWO YEARS! May they continue to shine, and lighten our lives with their Heavenly voices! Okay, enjoy! :)

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“He has a pulse!” the officer nodded, and we all began crying. He scared the shit out of us. They called the ambulance who was there in a matter of minutes, escorting Niall to the hospital, and giving him oxygen. All of us looked on at his mangled form lying on the stretcher, terrified. What if that had been one of us? Why wasn’t it one of us? Why Niall? He was such a sweetie. My guilt was a major blow to the gut, I felt awful. It was my fault; I’d snuck off with Harry and left Niall alone. How could I have been so selfish? We followed the ambulance to the nearest hospital where camera crews were already shouting at us, demanding answers. “What happened to Niall?” from a tall woman in black heels. “How is he, is he still alive?” from a short, round man. “Do you think this was a terrorist attack?” from a woman with short hair. “Are any of you frightened? Did a fan do this?” from an elderly reporter. “Is Niall going to be okay?” from a man with a toupee. I couldn’t answer any of those questions, but the others ran inside and I did the best that I could. None of the boy would be able to handle reporters right now. “We aren’t sure, b-but we’re going to find out what happened. He’s still alive, they gave him oxygen. I don’t believe it was a terrorist attack. I believe it was either a fan, or somebody getting vengeance perhaps. I’m very frightened right now, frightened for Niall; frightened for my boys. We’re all so worried. I hope he’s going to be okay, but I need to go in to see what’s going on. Please respect One Direction’s privacy at this time, we really need it.” I sniffled, and went inside to the ER, and jumped into Harry’s arms.  “He’ll be okay Hazza. Don’t cry.” I whispered, wiping away a tear from my fiancé’s cheek and stroking his hair. I could only hope.,

Three hours. It took three hours for the doctors to come in and give us news. Three long, painful hours of remorse and guilt. Tears and worry. “He’s going to be alright. He has an IV providing parenteral nutrition, and his leg had to be elevated and it’s in a cast, it’s broken unfortunately. He has some minor abrasions, but nothing that won’t disappear in time. No punctures, he should be just fine. He won’t speak to any of us though. You can visit.” the doctor said, and let us through the double doors and down the hallway. “Niall! You’re okay!” Liam yelled, running to his bedside. “Nialler!” Zayn joined in on the yelling and running to his bedside. Harry and Lou also joined the others at his bedside. I stood at the foot, staring down at his sad blue eyes, his pale bruised face and his leg which was coveted by a thick blue cast. “Aren’t you going to speak to us, mate? We’ve been so worried! We thought we’d lost you!” Louis told him, nudging his shoulder. Niall opened his mouth but no words came out. All of the boys stared at him, talked to him, but he wouldn’t respond. I just sat at a chair at the foot of the bed, watching as his eyes darted from one brother to the next, and then me. He had big black rings beneath his eyes, tears stained his cheeks, and his hair was a mess of blonde and little specks of brown. The boys sat in the room for three hours, just talking to him, even though he wouldn’t respond. When they left to get food, I stayed behind. I couldn’t leave him, this had been my fault.