Assault With a Deadly Weapon || N.H / 1D

47.

Song recommendation: Shake it Out by Florence + The Machine
-

I couldn't tell if I'd actually slept that night. I remember lying down, I remember holding Niall's hand, I remember telling him I loved him, but I didn't remember ever actually closing my eyes to sleep. I couldn't even tell you if I'd really woken up in the morning, or if I'd just come out of my deep daydream. Recently life was a guessing game of how long Philly could go before she realizes that her body is shutting down on her. It was only a matter of time before I fell asleep in the middle of a case. I was snapped out of my possible seven hour brain fog by a body shooting up on the bed.

"Niall?" I blinked slowly, not knowing what he was doing. It better not have been something stupid. I swear if he was looking for the tv remote at this hour, I was going to punch him.

He was staring right at the wall across from our bed, he wasn't moving, but his breathing became heavier, like he'd just run a marathon.

"Ni, what's going on? Are you okay?" I was beginning to get worried, I sat up beside him, observing what was happening to his body.

His muscles tensed as if he were holding onto something for dear life. He was now heaving like he couldn't get enough oxygen. He was struggling to breathe. His body started to shake, his arms vibrating, and his head hanging loose while he pushed to breathe.

"Niall what are you doing?' I began to panic. What was happening to him? "Niall, can you hear me? Niall!"

He was unresponsive. He continued to shake violently, causing me to immediately fly across the bed, sitting in front of him. He was looking right at me, but he couldn't see me. His eyes were completely blank, he wasn't conscious. He was having a night terror. I'd learnt about these in my psychology class, I knew how to handle them, but in that moment, I'd forgotten everything I knew.

"Niall!" I grabbed onto his shoulders, he'd broken out into a violent sweat, it was dripping down his forehead, he'd soaked through his shirt.

"Philly!" He shouted, like he was crying for help.

"Niall!" I was so scared. "Niall honey I'm right here!" I frantically tried to unbutton his shirt so that he didn't overheat. I pulled it off of him and watched as he continued to react to the terror in his mind. "Wake up!" I put my hands on his face. "Please bud. Please wake up, I'm right here!"

Suddenly he went limp, falling back onto the bed with a thump. His shaking stopped, his fever subsided, and his eyes closed. It was over. Night terrors only lasted a few minutes, but they were a horrifying few minutes. He fully believed that he was dying, and I had to watch him go through it, knowing he was completely safe. It sent a shock through me. Suddenly I was the one who felt like they'd run a marathon. I straddled Niall as he was unconscious, staring down at the bedsheets, trying to recover from what had just happened.

Once I'd regained my ground, I moved off of him, back to my side of the bed. I put a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Niall," I said quietly. "Nialler."

"Hm?" He kept his eyes closed, but responded to me like normal.

"Are you okay?" I furrowed my eyebrows.

"I feel like we've discussed this so many times today." His eyes opened slowly, squinting at me in annoyance. "You really had to wake me up in the middle of the night to ask about my feelings? Seriously?"

"What?" I frowned before realizing, letting my expression soften. "You don't remember."

"Remember what?" He looked up at me as my face was looming over his. "Where's my shirt?"