No One Does It Better

Chapter 22

Louis wakes up to a loud knock on his bedroom door. He cracks an eye open and stares down the soft green light from his alarm clock. "It's one in the morning," he calls out, his voice croaky and sounding far too loud for the stillness of his room. "Kindly fuck off." When he doesn't hear anything for a moment, he closes his eyes again.

The door opens and he snaps his head up. Liam's stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. He's dressed in a dark green jumper that Louis knows belongs to Zayn and thick grey sweatpants. His face is a mix between the irritated and soft around the edges of his sleep. "C'mon," he says, sighing heavily, "Get up. Harry's in the hospital." Louis sits bolt upright, his eyes wide. "Niall's bringing the car around. Get your slippers on, mate," he says before turning on his heel and heading toward the living room.

Louis sits there for just a moment longer. 'Harry,' he thinks, like a mantra, 'Harry, Harry, Harry, fuck.' He jumps out of bed far too quickly and stumbles as his ankle gets tangled in a stray scarf long-since abandoned on the floor. He detangles himself and slips on the closest pair of shoes that match and a deep red beanie to cover his bedhead as he runs out the door.

In the living room, Liam's sat on the edge of the coffee table with his head in his hands, just breathing deeply. Niall's leaned against the wall that leads to the entry hall and twirling his car keys around his finger. They both raise their heads when Louis stops abruptly.

"What are we waiting for, a fuckin' invitation? Let's go!" He's got his eyebrows pulled together at his friends' lack of reaction.

Liam and Niall share a look as Liam rises to his feet, slinging an arm around Louis and walking with him to the door, far too slowly for Louis' liking. He quickens his pace, forcing the boys to match him as his mind races. He's on fire, sharp pinpricks needling at his skin, his skin is too god damn tight, and why the fuck, how the fuck are Liam and Niall so calm?

"What happened?" He finally asks, has the courage to, as he climbs into the backseat of Niall's Range Rover. The question has been hanging at the back of his throat, ramming against the lump in his throat since Liam's said those four words at his door. His stomach turns with anxiety, because, for as much of a twat Harry's been, Louis fucking loves him.

Three doors shut at nearly the same time and Liam spares him a glance from the passenger seat as he buckles himself in. He moves his head to share a glance with Niall, and Louis is getting really sick of that, of that knowing look they share. "What?" Louis asks more firmly, louder. "What the fuck is going on?" He's getting angry now, "And why the fuck are you so calm? Harry's in the fucking hospital! Surely this calls for a little urgency!" He glances between the two in the front seat as Niall puts the car into drive, watches as different emotions pass over their face, none of which he expects.

"Louis," Liam sighs, turning in his seat to face the older boy, "Zayn found Harry unconscious at the record shop." He reaches out for Louis' hand and Louis slowly complies, keeping a cautious eye on the other boy's face. "He'd been - drinking. The doctors said it's alcohol poisoning," Liam watches him carefully with every word he says.

"Fuck," Louis whispers, pulling his hand from Liam's to cover his mouth, "Fuck, that's, that's serious, that, innit? Is he alright? Fuck, Liam, is-"

"He's alright," Liam cuts him off firmly. "He's as 'okay' as he can be. He's awake and breathing and pissed as all hell. They've got him all hooked up and hydrated and getting him proper vitamins. He might need a bit of dialysis, but he's going to be okay."

Louis visibly relaxes for a moment, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd kept captive, before he freezes again, staring Liam down, "When did this all happen? It's obviously been a while if they know all this. Why did no one call me?" He's starting to get more and more upset. Why had Harry been drinking in the first place? Why had he been at the record shop and not at home? Louis was half expecting for Harry to crawl into his bed and wrap him up with whispered apologies Louis would pretend to not hear. Why does he feel like he's the last person on Earth to know his own boyfriend is ill?