The Kidnapping (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 16 - The Interview

Niall Horan was woken by a hammer being bashed into his skull.
A voice was calling, he could hear it, distant, from where he drifted under the surface of consciousness.
He groaned, rolling away, opening his eyes just as the world tipped and he collided with a hard surface.

"Fucking hell Niall."

He heard someone curse as he sat back, covering his eyes with weak hands.

His head was pounding, pain shifting from the front of his skull to the back of his eyes.
Not a hammer. Fuck. A hang over.

"Niall mate, you good?" He heard someone ask concern evident in their voice.

Niall grunted, gesturing with a hand for the person stop talking. He peeled his tongue from the roof of his mouth and slowly raised his eyes.

Liam stood over him, wearing a tight shirt and acid washed jeans, his hair was messily slicked back and he held a glass of what appeared to be water in one hand and a couple of tablets in the other.

"What the hell? What time is it?" Niall asked, voice scratchy and painful. He took the glass and tablets from him, not bothering to ask what they were before throwing them into his mouth and swallowing quickly.

Liam raised his eyebrows, regarding him with surprise. "It's around 10 mate. You were hammered. We left you for as long as we could but we have to get going now."

Niall scowled. "What? Why? Where are we going?"

Liam looked shocked. "Niall we have and interview today and a press conference. We need to get ready... Mate, the tour starts tonight."

He shook his head, willing the fog covering his mind to clear. "What? tickets only went on sale yesterday!" He exclaimed, making to stand.

Liam helped him up, gripping him lightly around the waist to keep him from falling. "Yeah and they're sold out already for the American Leg. Our fans have been waiting a long time for this to happen."

"Shit." He whispered.

"Can you stand? You should probably shower." Liam asked, eyes flickering with concern as he reluctantly removed his arm from around his waist.

Niall grimaced, heading for his en-suite bathroom, hands flying outwards to help him balance.

"Oh and Nialler, wear sunglasses. The last thing we want is for the paps to get pictures of you when you're off your face."

Niall nodded briefly, closing the door quietly before stepping into the shower with care, letting the boiling water wash over him in an attempt to clear his mind.

He didn't remeber much of what had happened last night, if anything. He remembered Louis coming out, the scream... and then darkness. He'd gone too far, he knew, drinking himself into oblivion.
He couldn't get the sound of Harry's scream out of his head.

He knew all of this was his fault.

Harry was in pain.
Louis was in pain watching him.
Liam and Zayn were in the dark, desperate to help but unable to.

And then there was him.
He was the reason Harry had been kidnapped. He was the reason for his suffering.

Maybe he should just-
There was a pounding knock on the door and he jumped thoughts dissipating, he blinked coming back into himself.

The water had gone cold.

"Nialler, it's time to go mate. Come on Lad." Louis called through the door.

He shook his head, water mixing with tears that he hadn't realised he'd shed.
"Coming Tommo." He called, switching off the shower and tumbling into his towel.