Protect Him L.S. (Slow Updates)

Chapter 11

Louis -

I made the appointment and now we wait until the day. Harry actually, and very hesitantly agreed to try therapy again. Honestly, I think he can do it now. He's been doing so much better, talking occasionally and I think it will really work now.

So here I lay, in bed waiting for the night to pass and morning to come, bringing the new day and also the day of the therapy appointment. Harry was nervous coming to bed, shaking slightly and fear in his eyes.

I know he's afraid, so am I.

But it's three in the morning and I'm still not asleep. I look over and Harry's face is smushed into his pillow, breathing calmly and slowly. He's asleep.

Careful not to move the sheets or mattress much, I sit up and get out of bed. I doubt that I will get any sleep tonight, seeing as how I'm not even tired at this time.

I quietly head out of the room and make my way to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. The mail from today -well, technically it was yesterday- sits on the kitchen counter, and I read through the crappy junk mail before my teas done.

But then suddenly there's a loud thud from upstairs and I freeze, all too anxiously waiting for another sound, but when there isn't one, I make a mad run up the stairs.

I push our bedroom door open and see Harry, wide eyed and sleepy laying on his back on the floor. His eyes are staring at the ceiling, but they're wide and frightened and his chest is rising at an alarming rate.

"Harry? Baby, what happened?" I hurry to his side and go to help him sit yo, but he whimpers and I pull my hands back like I've been burnt. He just lays there, staring at me now, but just laying on the floor.

"What's wrong? What's hurting?" I ask quickly, horrified that Harry might actually be hurt.

I didn't expect him to burst into tears.

"Oh, Harry...baby, what's happened?" I want to pull him into my arms, but I'm scared I'll hurt him and I want to hold him close because know he's scared and I'm scared too, and I hate this.

But he sits up, his hands covering his eyes as tears stream down his face and sobs loudly, the sounds echoing in the otherwise pretty quiet room.

"What's happened?" I do finally wrap my arms around him, hesitantly, afraid he might have another episode.

"I just..." But he stops himself and hiccups and simply goes back to crying.

"Tell me. Baby, please...tell me." I need him to tell me.

"I wanted you. And you...were gone. AndI...didn't...got..scared...couldn't...louis....can't...can't breathe...louis..." Harry's words come out as gasps and his breathing quickens until every breath is a fight and he starts gripping my arms so tightly it's cutting off my blood.

"Harry, calm down. Calm down. Har- baby, baby, look at me. Calm- Harry, breathe." But he doesn't. His fave starts to turn a funny color and he starts to thrash around, his gals getting harsher, but quieter as his air intake becomes less and less.

I hate to, but I let him go, leaving him on the floor while I search desperately through the bedside table drawers for his inhaler. Upon finding it, I rush back to Harry's side where his lips have turned almost blue and his face looks nearly purple.

"Babe, here ya go, love. Breathe. Just breathe for me. There's a good boy." Ive pulled him into my lap, his back against my chest and help him use the inhaler. His body already so weak he's lax and hardly able to keep his head up.

But he breathes. His breathing slows down until it's normal and I feel he's safe.

I set the inhaler on the floor beside us, and keep my arms around the limp boy who's leaning against me, his eyes closed and his lips slights open, breathing softly.

"You okay now?" I ask, wanting to make sure he's alright.

"Yeah." He replies, his voice weak and hoarse.

"Feel floaty...and...tired." He adds, his voice almost slurring as if he'd been drinking too much.

"But you're okay?" Double checking never hurt.

"Yeah. Feels almost like after...after an orgasm." He slurs and half smiles before his lips part and he returns to simply breathing.

"What? You feel that good?" I can't help but smile and almost laugh. Not only was that funny, but Harry's talking. Like a lot! He's speaking almost like the old Harry used to. And I f-cking love it.

He only nods to my question and I try to get up to help him back into bed, but it's like the whole of him is on my lap and he's so heavy compared to me. I can lift him and carry him, but not get out of this position on the floor with him already on me.

"Can you stand for me, love? I'm sort of stuck here." I quietly laugh.

"Just want you to hold me." He mutters and who am I to do anything but sit in the floor, holding the overgrown boy in my arms and let him sleep? Even when my legs fall asleep and I'm exhausted, I do what he wanted, and I hold him.

Because he said that's all he wanted.