You Can't Sing Without Air- Harry Styles Fanfic

40. Times They Are A-Changin

I wake to the familiar sound of hospital; the beeping of machines, the hiss of my ventilator, the dull hum of voices in the hallway. 

 I rub the sleep from my eyes and survey the room. Harry sleeps slumped over in the chair by my bed. For a second I don't believe what I see. I rub my eyes again, almost expecting him to disappear. The memories of last night's conversation flood back to me.  

Harry. He's really here. 

He looks so perfect I want to reach out and touch him. He's kicked off his shoes and has his socked feet tucked up into the chair with him. He's covered himself with one of Niall's jumpers that was sitting on the chair next to him in lieu of a blanket. I wish I had thought to give him one of mine. To be fair, him spending the night wasn't exactly planned. I must have fallen asleep first because I don't remember making any decisions one way or another. I guess he just decided the trip to his hotel was too much of a drive. 

I realize I haven't told him my news. I'm hesitant to say anything yet. Like Dr. Hunter said, there's a chance Trikafta won't help me improve at all. I don't want to get his hopes up yet. 

Harry stirs in his sleep. I watch him pull the jumper up higher against his face, turning on his side. He rubs his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb lazily. He looks five years younger when he's sleeping. I want him to wake up so I can hear his voice, but at the same time I want him to stay asleep so I can enjoy the sight of him. At least then I'll have more time to decided whether or not I'm going to tell him about Trikafta. 

As it turns out, I don't get the opportunity to. 

"Ms. Horan? Good morning." Dr. Hunter enters my room, stirring Harry from his sleep. 

Harry looks up, confused. 

"Ah. Another guest." Dr. Hunter says. 

What a dick. 

"Ms. Horan, have you made a decision about whether or not to begin Trikafta?" He says, paying little mind to the sleepy rock star by my bed. This man must see some shit. 

I nod my head. 

I'd like to give it a try. I type into my phone, showing him the screen. 

"Well, I'm glad to hear that- erm... See that." He says. "I'll let insurance know and you should have it in your hands by Monday." 

I give him a thumbs up. He nods and leaves the room just as abruptly as he entered. 

Harry groans from his seat by my bed. 

"What a charmer." He says.

I smile.  

Dr. Hunter's not the friendliest man on the planet, but he's one of the best doctors in the UK. I'll take what I can get. 

Harry attempts to smooth back his unruly hair, yawning loudly.  

"What's that you were talking about? Trikafta?"

It's just a new drug they're trying. I type.

"Huh." He nods.

"I hadn't planned on spending the night, but uh.... the temptation of this uncomfortable hospital chair was just too much to bear." 

I want to laugh. I missed his terrible jokes. Well, not really, but I missed him and I'll take the terrible jokes if I get to have him. 

"I better get out of here before your mum gets here." He says, pulling on his shoes. 

We're both still a bit awkward around each other. There's too many months between us. We don't immediately fall back into 'rhythm', mostly because we never had one. Plus, so much has changed. Last night, after our heart-to-heart, there was no kiss, no romantic hospital cuddle. Instead, we dozed off next to each other, each in our own space. 

"I'll see you later then?" he says, heading toward the door. 

I nod. 

He looks back at me, taking a step towards me then back again as if deciding whether or not to give a proper goodbye. 

He decides on a wave instead. I'm not hurt by it, rather I'm a bit relieved. We don't have the luxury of taking things slow, but I think we both need to heal a little bit. 

I just hope it doesn't take us too long.

.................................................................................. 

In preparation for the new drug, my CF team decides to take me off the ventilator and put me on a Bipap machine. It's a process I'm not too excited for but eager to get it over with. After weeks of typing my thoughts into my phone, I'm ready to have my voice back. 

The process is just as miserable as the first time. I'm thankful at least that Harry hadn't returned in time to see me dry heave as they pull the tube out. I may be much more confident in myself these days, but a girl's gotta keep some of her pride. 

"Great job Ayd!" Niall says, like a football coach after a player scores a goal. 

What a loser. 

They fit me with a Bipap machine, the mask fitting over my nose but leaving my mouth free.  

"Alright, say something love." The nurse says. 

"I...... want pizza" I manage to croak out. 

The room dissolves into laughter. I join them. It's an incredible feeling. 

Breathing without a ventilator, however, is not. I'm exhausted by lunch time from the sheer effort of pushing air in and out of my lungs, even with the help of the Bipap machine.  

I'm in the middle of a physical therapy session, my respiratory therapist pounding on my back as I cough up mucus, when Harry returns. 

"Hey." I say weakly. 

"Holy shit, Adie! You can talk!" He rushes to my bed. 

"And she's busy." My therapist says sternly. "Sit down and wait until we're done." 

"Yes ma'am!" Harry says, holding his hands up in surrender and backing into a chair. 

I sneak a glance at him in between hacking coughs. He can't keep a smile off his face. 

After what feels like a lifetime, I finish with treatment. As soon as the therapist exits the room Harry is at my side, beaming. 

"I can't believe this, Adie. I thought I was going to keep having conversations with Robot Lady for the foreseeable future." 

I laugh. 

His face lights up. "Oh that laugh! I've missed that laugh!" 

I shake my head, still grinning. He looks happier that he's looked in days. 

"Does this mean that you're doing better?" He asks.

"Not..... really." I choke out. My voice is hoarse, as if I've screamed my lungs out at a concert. 

"What do you mean?" 

"That new med? They..... want to see-" I gulp, feeling like my throat is full of chalk, "if it helps my lungs....improve." I pause to take breaths every few words. Breathing is not something I do well right now. Or ever. 

"Ah, I see." Harry says. "Well either way I'm glad to say goodbye to robot lady." 

I laugh again and immediately begin coughing. Harry furrows his brow, concerned. My cough has worsened greatly since we last saw each other, and it wasn't very good then. I'm sure I sound like a dying cat. 

I finally stop coughing. 

"Sorry." I say. "Hairball." 

This time it's Harry's turn to laugh.

I missed that sound too.