You Can't Sing Without Air- Harry Styles Fanfic

7. It's a Bitch, Girl

"You're burning up. I'm calling Dr. Ahmed and that's all there is too it. You're acting like a baby." 

"And you're acting like a freak! I'm FINE Niall I would tell you if I wasn't!" I throw a pillow at his back but he's already pulling out his phone and dialing. 

"I hate you sometimes!" I yell, realizing I do sound like a baby but I can't help it. I just got released from hospital two days ago, I can't be admitted again. 

Niall turns and shoots me a middle finger as he's walking out the door. 

"Hey, Dr. Ahmed, it's Niall...." His voice trails off down the hall. 

Well. There goes my one chance to see Harry again. At least I got a full night's sleep before Niall realized I was running a high fever. He knew immediately when I came out of my room to get breakfast. He knows me so well he can pick up on the tiniest clues, clues not even most of my nurses notice.

A few minutes later he comes back into my room, holding his hands up as if giving a truce. 

"Dr. Ahmed wants you to come in for labs, but unless something's terribly wrong he won't admit you." 

I breathe a sigh of relief. 

"Get dressed, we're leaving now." He says, leaving the room before I can argue. 

I toss on a pair of black leggings and a pink sweatshirt with the words "I HATE MORNINGS" written across the front.  

The drive to hospital is quiet. I scroll my phone while Niall drives. 

We arrive at the CF clinic at UCLA. I sign the papers to see my doctor before taking a seat in the waiting area. I pull my Vogmask over my nose and mouth, a small precaution against inevitable germs. My head feels fuzzy. 

 As we wait, Niall types earnestly on his cell, I'm assuming catching up on some work before his flight tomorrow. I notice a few people in the waiting room start to recognize Niall, even in his sweats and a hood pulled around his face. I think I even see a teen girl snap a photo.   

Great. That'll be all over the web soon.  

"Ms. Horan?" A nurse calls. Perfect timing.

I grab my stuff as Niall follows behind absentmindedly, still typing into his phone.

In the examination room the nurse checks my vitals and draws a few vials of blood. I spit some mucus into a cup for an infection sample and make a face as I see the contents. I might cough that stuff up every day of my life, but it never stops being gross. 

Niall and I both sit silently on our phones for almost an hour waiting for labs to come back. Dr. Ahmed finally comes in, holding a clipboard with my results. 

"Aideen, hate to see you again so soon. I thought we'd have at least a couple of months before seeing you back here." He gives a sympathetic smile. 

I fake one back. 

"Well, it looks like you've got an infection again, but it's nothing a round of IV antibiotics won't fix. We'll set you up and then you're free to finish the two-week course at home." 

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, which is impressive when you can't really hold your breath. 

Dr. Ahmed leaves after giving some brief some instructions for the antibiotic. Nothing I haven't heard before.  

A nurse comes in to access my port, putting a needle in my chest and covering it with a sterile dressing. She hooks me up to an IV bubble, a little portable orb filled with antibiotics so I don't have to haul and IV pole with me. I tug the IV line under my shirt, tossing the bubble in my bag with my oxygen concentrator. I pull my mask over my face before Niall and I walk out into the hallway and to the car. 

"That wasn't so bad." Niall says, the first words he's said to me since we left the house. 

"Sorry for being a bitch." I say. 

"You really were." He chuckles to himself. 

"I'm a hungry bitch now." I say, cracking a smile. "Lets get In N Out." 

"Don't have to ask me twice!" He responds. 

It's only 1 pm and I'm thankful that I woke up earlier than usual. Hospital trips are rarely this fast.  I know if I had slept until noon like I wanted we would still be in the exam room.  

I count the hours until dinner on my hand, trying to ignore the butterflies erupting in my stomach. I get to see Harry again after all. 

We get in the car and Niall cranks the radio to an oldies station. Hall and Oates' "Rich Girl" starts playing, midway through the first verse.  Both of our faces light up. It's one of our favorites.

We drive to the nearest burger stop singing along  at the top of our lungs. For once, I don't mind if it leaves me in a coughing fit.

It's a bitch girl, and it's gone too far cus you know it don't matter anyway

Got money but it won't get ya too far

Get ya too far 

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

I'm standing in front of my mirror desperately trying to figure out what to wear. With a little help from the copious amounts of Advil I've downed today, my temperature is finally decently normal. My eyes rest on the needle sticking out of my chest with disdain. Now the biggest problem is finding something to cover up the eyesore that is this needle and IV tubing.  

I settle on a pastel blouse with a high neckline and my cutest high-waisted jeans.  Only the tip of the clear sterile dressing covering my port shows from the neckline. I quickly pat on some blush and swipe a mascara wand over my lashes. I dab a bit of full coverage concealer under my eyes to cover up the dark circles. It doesn't do a very good job, and for a second I regret turning down Sean's offer to do my makeup again, but its too late now to change my mind. 

I pull my oxygen cannula over my ears and situate it in my nose. As much as I'd love to ditch it tonight, there's no way my lungs can go without. All I can do is hope Harry doesn't notice. 

Of course he'll notice you dummy. I think. Its a tube across your face. He's not blind. 

The sound of the front door opening tears me from my thoughts. 

"Hey mate! Great to see you!" I hear Niall say. 

I toss my IV orb into my oxygen concentrator bag and sling it over my shoulder. 

Here goes nothing.