The Wolf In sheeps clothing

Precarious Hold

Louis had crept back into Niall's room a few hours later. The others were still back at the hotel sleeping, but Louis was too restless and, after spending an hour or so, walking up and down his room, had decided he'd be better off being back with Niall. He knew he couldn't do anything  for the other man, but he just had to be there. He sat next to Niall's bed and stared at Niall's pale face as he listened to the bleep and clicks of the machinery that surrounded the small man, as he willed the lad to wake up. Eventually exhaustion won, and Louis eyes slipped closed as he fell into sleep.

"It really doesn't make sense. Are you sure these are the correct results?' Noah asked Caleb as he stared down at the paper in his hand. "Like they didn't get them muddled up in the lab?"

"Nope. I checked and I double checked. I know it doesn't make sense. I am as baffled as you are." Caleb Jameson replied,  his brow furrowed in confusion. "Gordon Hayes-Hamilton is coming in. We'll get him to check as well. Seriously , Noah, we'll treble and quaruple check but maybe........" Caleb's voice trailed away as he looked at at his colleague.

"You think it's happened?" Noah's voice was barely above a whisper. Caleb shrugged. "Well, let's get the blood samples." They left the cramped office and headed back to their patient.

"No change, Doctors." the nurse murmured as the two men entered Niall's room. "And his friend has returned." She nodded her head towards Louis , who was slumped in the chair, still sleeping. "The poor man must be exhausted, he never stirred while I was doing my 'Obs.' Do you want me to wake him?'

"No, leave him sleeping. We don't want him sick as well. If the rest of Niall's family return, could you make them wait outside until we give the go-ahead? We've got more tests to do. When we get the results we may be able to offer them a proper update."

Louis woke to the sound of voices and opened bleary eyes to see that Noah and Caleb were standing next to Niall's bed , watching as Gordon Hayes-Hamilton was bent over the Irish boy, examining him carefully. Louis cleared his throat then spoke.

"How's he doing. What's happening" his voice sounded rusty and his throat was so dry , it was hard to get the words out.

"We've more tests to do" Caleb spoke quietly. "Look, Louis. You can't do anything here. Please go get some decent rest. We'll do our best for your friend but we don't need  you to  be getting sick. Come on." He ushered Louis to his feet and out of the door. "Seriously, go get some rest." He stood and watched as Louis nodded  to him  before the Doncaster lad, stumbling slightly for exhaustion, walked away down the corridor. Caleb waited until Louis was out of sight then returned to Niall's room where the other two men  were in quiet but intense conversation.

"And?" Caleb looked at Gordon Hayes-Hamilton, waiting for that man's opinion. He felt a sense of dread at the expression on the distinguished face.

"There is no way of dressing this up. Niall is slipping into a coma and I don't understand why." Hayes-Hamilton waved the sheaf of papers he had clutched in his hand. "None of the test results make sense. Currently, this young man is being kept alive by machines." He shook his head, his expression one of defeat. "And we seem to be helpless to intervine."

"His family will need to be informed. What do we tell them?" Noah asked, his voice hushed.

"The truth" Gordon Hayes-Hamilton replied somberly. "There's not much hope for the poor lad."

"None?" Caleb looked from the senior doctor to the pale young man on the bed, whose small body seemed to have got even smaller.

"Unless there is a miracle" Hayes-Hamilton responded "And it will need to come very quickly. There's not much time." Nodding curtly to Noah and Caleb, he left the room. 

The room was now deathly silent except for the machines keeping Niall alive. Noah wiped his hand tiredly across his face then , a heartbroken expression on his face, asked Caleb the question that had been haunting him more and more as time passed and Niall  continued to fail to respond.

"Caleb, just what have we done?" His voice shook with supressed fear. "Have we doomed him to death?" Caleb shrugged wearily, sharing the same thoughts. Had their plans of a cure turned into a death sentence?

Maura and her mother sobbed quietly in each others arms. Bobby remained silent, grim faced, looking down at his son, barely noticing the door open and Louis walking in to the room.

"The other lads and Greg are coming,".Louis spoke in a voice that bordered on the verge of tears. "They will be here by tonight. Ummh" he paused for a moment before continuing, not sure how everyone would take the next words out of his mouth. "Yeah, ummh...Zayn's coming too." Much to his surprise, there was no comment, just the nodding of heads in aknowledgement of his words. He let out a sigh, glad not to  have to face any battle. Zayn had always called Niall his 'little brother' so Louis could quite clearly see Zayn's need to be with them. He had broken down in tears when Louis had contacted him to let him know how desperate the situation with Niall had become. Louis pulled up a chair and sat down. Quiet converstions started then stopped, then started again, as if  not allowing the room to become silent could prevent anything bad happening.

What's that about Zayn? Who is talking about Zayn? Was he in Ireland? Was Niall himself in Ireland? Disjointed thoughts flowed through his head. The accents of home, of Ireland, sounded soothingly familiar but where was he? Where were the voices he heard? Were they there or just in the strange universe he was currently inhabiting?  Niall felt he was floating in perpetual darkness. He wasn't in pain. No, the pain had long since stopped. To be honest, he couldn't feel anything. It was like his body had disappeared and he was only existing in his own mind. His thoughts started to swirl into a mix of jumbled words that  he thought he could hear ,and then faded into nothingness. There was just profound silence in his mind. Around him, his family continued to talk softly and the machines that were , for the time being, tethering him precariously to life, clicked and beebed.