The hospital’s air was saturated with loss, pain, weakness. The walls were a dull white, the halls were silent, except for a parent’s sniffles, or the sound of a doctor, delivering more bad news. The atmosphere was thick, almost intolerable, as we all stood in front of the ICU, where Louis weakly laid. The doctor said the bullet went through his left kidney, liver, before settling in his large intestine. He said they had to deduct part of his liver, but they managed to save the kidney. We had to live through the next twenty four hours without any setbacks, and he should have a certain recovery.
Twenty four hours.
We could do that.
Louis laid with a tube going through his nose, another connected to his left arm which was responsible for pumping blood through his veins to compensate his blood loss, and an IV connected to his right arm to supply his weak body with food and liquids. A heart monitor beeped religiously beside him, connecting to the multiple detectors attached to his bare chest. A large, white, slightly smudged with red bandage circled around his abdomen, covering the wound, where a scar was bound to be left.
My legs trembled as I stood in front of the window holding us away from Louis, strength had long departed every aspect of my being, along with all attachments to my surroundings. I could almost feel my body slipping into an inevitable collapse, but I wouldn’t allow it to. It had to push through, it had to endure this endless apocalypse, it had to be strong for Louis and for Gypsy and for everyone I failed to save.
I was suddenly reminded of why I chose to stay in the office for a whole year, preferring to finish paper work, rather than face the ugly world outside. The world in which I had accidently shot an innocent man, mistaking him for one of the thieves that had shut the bank down, taking tens of people as hostages. The empty look of death on the man’s face, continued to haunt me for months on end. I dreamt of him, collapsing, over and over again, to look down upon my hands and find his blood. I became unable to hold a gun, without hearing the sound of that one bullet that had ended it all. I was completely defeated by my inhuman mistake, until this happened, and I knew that I had to save my wife myself.
And I failed.
Again.
“ Harry?” A gentle hand laying on my shoulder, revived me from the memories of my consistent faults.
“ Come, sit, you look tired. Or go home, change, maybe sleep for an hour or two, then come back here. We’re staying with him, don’t worry.” I tilted my head to the side, noticing the anxious creases forming on Zayn’s forehead, the dull, black, circles beneath his tired eyes.
I did this to him too.
Unable to formulate proper words, I shook my head, fixating my eyes back on the slow movement of Louis’ chest.
“ Harry, fading yourself away like that, won’t help anything. We need you, sharp and ready, if we have any chances at all of getting through this. We’re already one man down, we can’t afford to lose you too, mate, come on.” My vision began to blur with the unshed tears forming behind my eyelids, as I defeatedly put my forehead to the cold, glass window, sucking in a sharp breath. All composure had dissolved away, all will to fight the approaching breakdown had evaporated into the hospital’s sickening air, as I allowed the first of my stubborn tears to fall down my face.
“ Dammit, Harry.” Zayn hissed, before wrapping his arms around me, redirecting my head so that it now buried into his chest, while he continued to pat my back soothingly.
“ We’ll get her back. I swear to you, if it’s the last damn thing we’ll do, we’ll get her back.” Breathless, I nodded, pulling away, and wiping away the last of my tears. My head continued to nod, almost as if believing his hesitant words, was the one thing fueling my persistence, keeping me from collapsing all together.
“ Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Everything is going to be okay.” He stared at me, seemingly reluctant about letting it go, before he nodded, releasing a long sigh. I looked upon the waiting chairs, on which Niall and Liam sat.
“ You two, are all good?” I whispered, receiving a lifeless chuckle from Niall, as he shook his head in disbelief.
“ We’re as good as can be under the circumstances.” Liam offered, along with a small smile.
“ Any phone calls? Any contact with Joshua?” I moved my burning eyes between three boys, receiving head shakes from them all.
“ Nothing, yet, no. I called in a few favors though, and a team is being set up, in case we decided to go in again.” Zayn said, putting his hands to his waist.
“ I don’t think that will be our best tactic at the moment. He’s three men down and he’s pissed. He bluntly told me that if we tried to attack again, he’ll blow up the whole subway, so it’s quite possible that he has it bombed.”
“ What the fuck, now he has bombs too?” Niall exclaimed, rising from his seat in agitation.
“ It isn’t certain, but we have to put the possibility in consideration.” Liam nodded in agreement, while Niall paced the floor, the way he usually did when he was deep in thought.
“ One more thing, his son is dead.” As soon as the words went past my lips, all widened eyes turned towards me, in sheer horror.
“ What?”
“ He told me he was one of the three men he lost.” Zayn’s fist connected with the wall, as he rested his head between both his hands, his body shaking with fury. Niall continued his anxious pacing, shaking his head to himself, while Liam continued to blankly stare at me.
“ He’s now 100 percent more pissed and bitter, and he’ll take it out on Gypsy to get his revenge, so that means, we need to get her out, as soon as possible.”
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A/N: :(((((
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Hijacked // h.s. au
Fanfiction“ Th- this is Gypsy Styles, we are threatened by men with guns, and so far, we are all okay, but please just- please, help us.” And the line went dead.
