high flyer // l.s

t w e l v e

Harry's insides throbbed, ached with the pain of two deaths.

Both were on purpose, but only one was to die.

Hie eyes were squeezed shut in agony and he so desperately wanted to open them. But everything was stuck.

He was stuck.

His breath was short; he felt like he was choking, and he couldn't move to unclog his throat. He felt the wire around his neck again, the chaffing of it, the suffocation.

No!

He wouldn't give up this easy.

He forced his eyes open with everything he had, refusing to be stuck in between any longer.

The light stung his eyes.

He hadn't made it back to Louis after all.

He was in heaven; he had to have been.

It smelled too clean, like anitseptic and funeral flowers, and it was too bright.

But then he heard it. Heard the wonderful, glorious sound of someone crying and the faint beeps from a heart monitor.

He still coudn't speak; something was lodged in his throat, but he could see.

He could see Louis' beautiful, wonderful crying face. His wonderful, wonderful hair.

He could feel Louis' tiny little hand in his own. The cool tears on his wrist.

And then he could feel pain, burning, searing, aching pain. His head pounded, his eyes burned, and his insides felt as if they were on fire.

But none of that mattered because he was alive.

He was alive!

But he still couldn't move.

Couldn't alert Louis to his presence at all.

He was still stuck, trapped inside of himself.

Louis shifted, lifting his face and wiping off his eyes.

"Harry," he still wasn't looking at Harry's face.

Still unaware of Harry's blinking eyes.

"Why would you do this? I thought we were good. We were happy. How could you leave me?" A sob shook his tiny shoulders. "I love you, Harry. Stay here. With me. Please."

Harry would've screamed if he could. I'm here! Louis, I'm here! I love you!

But he couldn't.

And Louis still wouldn't look at his face.

Harry felt weak already, light-headed and shrouded by a thick haze of pain, but he focused on moving his fingers. Focused so hard that he saw double, and triple, but it must've been enough.

His fingers twitched.

And Louis looked up at Harry's face for the first time.

"Harry?" He called and Harry blinked rapidly, trying to assure him that yes, he was there.

Yes, he had survived.

"Oh, my god, Harry!" Louis cried. "You're here. Shit, I love you. I love you. I love you."

He was full on sobbing, squeezing Harry's hand and pressing rapidly on the button next to Harry's bed.

"The doctors...said you'd probably never get up."

Harry couldn't do anything but blink and blink and blink, tears in his eyes. He realized he'd been intubated, and that was why he couldn't talk or breath.

A nurse came running into the room, eyes wide.

"He's awake!" She shouted out into the hall. "He's awake!"

But Harry was only focused on Louis squeezing him so hard and crying and mumbling words.

Harry's chest burned and his eyes ached and his head pounded, but he was back, he was here, he had saved his friends from their early demises.

He'd saved himself.

"I would've fucking killed you if you died," Louis sobbed, tears dampening Harry's cheek.

Harry just imagined smiling at Louis, imagined being able to kiss Louis and hug him and love him for his entire life, and he started to cry as well.

Obviously, he couldn't sob or do anything too strenuous, but he still cried, tears on his face that weren't only Louis'.

God, Harry loved Louis.

Harry was so so so happy to be back.

-j