Larry sick fics

Harry asthma attack on plane

The boys noticed the impeding attack before Harry himself did. It was only when the youngest boy's throat began to squeeze shut, and his chest started feeling abnormally tight did Harry realize that he was having an asthma attack. By then, Niall and Louis were already rummaging through his carry-on, looking for the small, blue canister that never left the teen's side.

Asthma attacks were so common with Harry that his friends hardly even panicked any more when they occurred. Before One Direction took off, and the five where still awkward strangers with practically no back-up plans and no knowledge of what the future would bring, relying on each other but not exactly sure of anything, Harry's attacks were worse. Way worse. They were always more violent when the teen was anxious or stressed, and performing live in front of the whole country wasn't the most relaxing experience.

The first time he had an attack in front of the boys was probably one of the worst experiences of his life. It happened only a few minutes until their first live performance as a band, and the scenarios racing through Harry's head were driving him past the breaking point. What if he messed up his solo? What if his voice cracked? What if he tripped and fell off the stage?

And, before he knew it, he couldn't get enough air and the world started spinning.

The next thing Harry was aware of was Niall sitting him down on a nearby chair, practically shoving an inhaler into his mouth.

"Breathe Harry." The Irishman said, helping him use the device, while the other three boys hovered around uncertainly, eyes filled with worry.

Harry remembers closing his eyes and trying to match his breaths to Zayn's, who was the closest and calmest at the time. There was still a weight on his chest and the medicine did very little to clear his foggy brain, but at least now his lungs felt looser. Harry looked around awkwardly, not really sure how to explain himself. Oh hey guys, sorry for freaking you out like that. Don't mind me. I was just going over every worst case scenario for tonight and accidently led myself into an asthma attack. Happens all the time.

Thankfully, Liam broke the tense silence by asking, "Do you think you can go on?"

And in all honestly, Harry didn't. He was still panicking, and now more than ever, since his voice was probably all scratchy and hoarse. But the boys didn't come this far (ok, so maybe not this far, but far enough) to be refused their dreams because Harry had an asthma attack.

So he just took as deep of a breath as his lungs would allow, and nodded his head, just as a crew member yelled "One Direction onstage in five!"

That was almost three years ago, and by now, the boys are pros when it came to taking care of Harry. They knew signs that even he couldn't pick up on- how his face flushed a bit, and how he started letting out small pants. His inhaler (covered in Batman stickers- courtesy of Liam) would be usually in his hand before the actual attack started.

Today however, his inhaler wasn't thrust into his hand immediately, and Harry made a mental note to scold the boys when his throat opened up a bit. Playfully, of course. Except, there was nothing playful about the way Louis looked up at Harry from the duffle, eyes wide.

"Haz." The older boy asked stricken, "Did you get your prescription refilled?"

Harry's sure that under any other circumstance, the way that his eyes widened would've been comical. But, considering the fact that he was getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, and there was no way to get any medication, the situation was anything but.

"We have to land the plane." Liam prompted urgently, already on his way to the cockpit.

Normally, Harry would've stopped his friends from making a huge fuss out of him. He hated being the center of attention and an inconvenience. And stopping a whole plane for an emergency landing would cause him to be both. But, even if he wanted to, the teen couldn't have said anything. In the span of seconds, his breaths went from slightly labored to unbearably difficult.

"Harry. Harry." Zayn said, snapping the younger boy from his thoughts (and attempts to breath evenly), "Listen to me Harry. C'mon. Breathe."

The Bradford native put his hand on Harry's chest not too lightly.

"C'mon Harry, I need you to push my hand out. Can you do that? Just lift your chest up and down, babe. Move my hand."

Harry tried his hardest to raise his chest and move, what felt like, the twelve ton hand.

"Breathe out Haz." Niall chided somewhere from the side, "I know you need air, but you have to breathe out too."

But the thing was, Harry couldn't breathe out. It's as if his lungs could only get the air in one way. And then, the teen started panicking even more, because he honestly couldn't breathe.

"No, no." Zayn said, grabbing Harry's face between his hands. His friend's face was blurry, but Harry wasn't sure if that was due to the tears clouding his eyes, or the oxygen deprivation. "Harry, calm down. You've got to Haz."

He tried. He really did. But there was no air in his lungs and his throat was seizing up. How could he have been expected to be calm through that?

"The plane's making an emergency landing right now." Liam declared, kneeling next to them, "Harry, you just gotta hang in there for a few more minutes."

"Hand, Harry." Zayn reminded, putting his palm back in place.

Harry wasn't even able to lift the appendage up a millimeter this time. It was crushing his chest, squeezing out whatever oxygen was left in his lungs. His vision started blacking around the edges, and he could feel himself spluttering. Very vaguely, he heard the pilot say something about a medical emergency and emergency landing and fasten your seatbelts please.

"Breathe Harry." Zayn practically yelled. Harry honestly wished he could.

"C'mon." Louis prompted, pushing is curls back in a way that usually calms him. "We're so close Haz. Just a minute or so ok? Don't close your eyes babe."

And Harry tried for Louis because, well, it's Louis. He tried his hardest even though his head was spinning like a carousel and his lungs were burning. Very distantly, he thought that he probably resembled a fish out of the water- all gasping and wide eyed. Have you seen my son? His name's Nemo?!

Except, his eyes were slipping shut, and he wasn't gulping for air anymore. He was just very, very tired. Everything hurt, from his eyeballs to his little toe. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. And so, he did just that.

"Harry wake up!" Was the last thing he heard before his eyes slipped completely shut and everything went pitch black.