Hold Me Close (Sequel To Take Me Home and Keep Me Safe)

Chapter Seven

Louis woke up slowly the next time. His eyes opened fully at first, then white lights blinded him and he quickly shut them again, squinting on his second attempt.

Everything was too bright. Too loud. Like somebody had dialled all of his senses right up to eleven - the beeps of machines were deafening, the smell of antiseptic was suffocating, the hand holding his felt tight and heavy as did his right leg, lights seemed blinding. He groaned unintentionally as he attempted to roll out the stiffness from his neck, arching his back against the bed slightly.

It felt as if he had been lying on his back for a decade, and all he really needed was a good stretch.

But he was less bleary now, and he realised his leg was throbbing so badly he could feel it all the way up into his chest. He gulped and stayed still, blinking sluggishly a few times before he opened his eyes properly again and allowed them to adjust, scanning the room with tired eyes.

There were machines. An old oversized armchair to his right.

His Dad was fast asleep in it, head rested back and mouth slightly open so that he snored gently. One of his arms was in a sling and the other was stretched out, hand holding out to his.

He frowned for a moment, realising he was in hospital. Then the events of the crash came back to him all at once. The blood covering him, the pain like he'd never felt pain before, the cold air, Niall being unconscious, Dad telling him to stay calm.

He sucked in a sharp breath and sat up immediately, the world swaying around him for a moment. The movement woke Liam with a jolt too, and the man sat upright and then immediately stood. "Lou, you're up! How're you feeling, darling?" he asked softly, placing his hands on Louis' shoulders and trying to carefully push him back against the pillows.

Louis looked upto him in a bit of a panic. "Dad?" he eyed the sling and then looked back to the man's face. "You - you - the car, it -"

"I know, sweetheart. We were in an accident. Everybody's okay," he hushed, eyes gentle as he sat on the mattress beside the boy.

Louis stared at him for a few minutes, allowing the information to settle in his head. Then he glanced around the otherwise empty room. "Where's Ni?" he asked.

Dad smiled softly at him, rubbing his thumb over the boys shoulder softly. "He's okay, Lou. He's at home, with Haz," he explained.

Louis frowned at that. Time seemed to be a confusing concept to him just then - it felt as if the car accident had been just moments ago. The last thing he remembered was being loaded into an ambulance...he must have passed out soon after because it all seemed blank from there on out.

"H-home?" he asked, brows tugged together. "What? How long've I been here?"

Liam looked sympathetic after that. "It's three in the morning. The crash was yesterday morning, Loubear. You woke up a couple of times but you were pretty out of it still, so I guess the meds have worn off now. Are you in any pain?" he asked.

Louis let his father's words juggle around in his head for a moment or two, then he felt his way through his body. He felt a little stiff and achy all over, like he was bruised from head to toe. And there were a few areas of his face and neck that were kind of stinging.

His leg throbbed painfully as if to remind him that it was still there. He blinked slowly. "My leg kinda hurts. It feels funny," he admitted quietly, and the look on his father's face made him worried.

He leaned to the side and felt his eyes widen when he saw his right leg, encased in the heavy red cast, hoistened up by pillows.

"Dad?" he looked back to his father, panicked. Really, he'd always wanted a cast and he couldn't help but feel like it was pretty cool deep down. However, he was supposed to be carrying his team to finals over the next few weeks of November. How was he meant to do that with a broken leg?