Empty {sequel to Broken}

Chapter 7: over

Okay here's the next chapter. Sorry I haven't written in a while but I had a cross country meet yesterday.

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Niall's p.o.v.

"Niall? Niall?" I heard my name being called.

"What?" I asked sleepily, forcing my eyes open.

Shut my head fucking hurts. God my whole body hurts.

"How are you feeling?" a mans voice asked. I could see him now. He was a doctor.

"Headache, sore," I grunted.

"To be expected. I gave you some pain killers that should be kicking in soon," he said.

"What, um, happened exactly?" I asked, feeling stupid.

"You had a panic attack, which caused you to nearly pass out, so we sedated you," he explained.

"Fuck," I moaned.

The doctor frowned at my language but didn't say anything. I felt kinda bad, but didn't apologize.

"Can you tell us what happened?" the doctor asked. Damn I knew that was coming. I sighed.

"Okay, you know how sometimes, like you're aware of something, like you know it's true, but you don't really know, then all of a sudden it hits you like bam. And then you realize, like really realize what it means," I explained.

"I think I know what you're talking about, yes," he nodded.

"I just," I sighed again.

"My best friend is in a coma, and in a week, they're pulling the plug," I said quietly, fighting the tears - and the tears stream down my face - back. I haven't cried in weeks.

"I'm so sorry," the doctor apologized.

I just nodded, knowing that I might start crying if I said anything else.

"Do you need anything else Niall?" he asked after a period of silence. I shook my head, still trying not to cry.

"Well, there isn't really much else I can do for you then Mr. Horan," he informed me.

"Okay," I whispered, finally trusting my voice, although it sounded a little shaky.

"As soon as the pain medication starts working, I'll let you go back to your room. You've got your first therapy session at noon," he told me, standing up.

"Actually, doctor, could you turn on the radio?" I asked.

"Sire, what channel?" he asked, walking across the room to the old-fashioned radio.

"99.1 I guess," I shrugged.

"Okay, there you go," he said once he'd found the station.

"Press the button if you need anything," he said, then walked out of the room.

I'm not one for christian music. I haven't gone I church since I was 15. But I figured, hell, in a time like this, maybe I need Jesus. Plus, there's absolutely no chance they'll play any one - yeah you know what I mean.

"God almighty, holy holy, the great I am," the radio sang.

I sighed, again, and laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and trying not to think too much about everything.

Liam's p.o.v.

When did everything get out of control? When did Niall get depressed? When did Louis get shot? When did Harry get sick?

God, me and Zayn are the only ones who okay. Well, not okay, exactly, but close enough.

At least I think so. Lately I've been getting this feeling about Zayn. Like there's something wrong, something obvious, that I should see, but don't.

Maybe I'm imagining things. Actually, it's probably cause I'm tired. I haven't slept well in almost two months. Since the accident or whatever you want to call it.

What really worried me, is that on the way up, when Story Of My Life came on, and Niall freaked out. I mean, yeah, I get it, it must be weird, but still.

What if he doesn't even want to be in a band anymore. I mean, it's likely that One Directions over anyways I suppose.

I know that if Louis, well, if he doesn't, if he dies, there is no One Direction. Not without him, not without Niall, not without any of us.

But what if? What if One Direction's already over, and we just haven't said if verbally yet?

I'm not really ready to accept that. This band has been my life for the past four years. I never finished school, I don't have anything else I can do.

I don't have a life without One Direction, and none of the other boys do either. We can't really be over. Can we?

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I might update in a few hours if I get enough reads.