Reason To Be (A Zouis Family AU)

Part Three, Chapter Nine

Louis refuses to sleep.

The last time he'd sat beside a hospital bed like this had been when Harry had had a low at school and had to spend a couple of nights on a ward. Then there'd been that time when the kid had had an allergic reaction, only that hadn't even been an overnight stay. The time before that had been the bus crash. The time before that had been stitches for Liam. All of them had sent him into a deep dark hole of fear for his kids.

This feels just as frightening. If not more, because the boy isn't just sleeping this time. He's yet to wake up.

There are rhythmic beeps of various machines, wires connected to Niall's chest beneath the hospital gown. An IV line attached to a cannula in the crook of his left elbow, just above the small scar from the broken bone he'd had all that time ago that had pierced through his skin (though it feels just like yesterday).

The last thing he had done was shout.

The last thing Niall had done was tell them they weren't his real parents.

He keeps his hand wrapped firmly around the boy's small fingers, the curtains over the window in the ICU decorated with teddy bears that only remind him of exactly how young the kid still is, no matter how much he likes to pretend he's grown up.

"God Ni," he breathes out quietly, the room empty other than him and the boy. Zayn has gone on a coffee run. Says he'll call Liam on the way to check in on him and Harry. Harry had been in a state when the ambulance had come. There was no way they were letting him stay home alone. Not a chance in hell.

He traces his thumb gently over each knuckle, eyes teary.

"I'm so mad at you," he says softly, though there isn't a trace of anger in his voice that isn't directed at himself.

The kid had taken more, knowing that it wouldn't be safe. He'd told them that they didn't care. That they hadn't noticed.

And Louis hates that he truly hasn't. Until now, he hasn't noticed the dark, deep bags embedded under once youthful and innocent eyes. He hasn't noticed the sharp cheek bones and the cracked skin around his nostrils and lips.

The kid had turned to drugs before he had turned to them. And god, if that doesn't make him hate himself.

He knows more than anyone that being a parent comes with more guilt than any other job role. But this amount of guilt? He's not sure he can bear it.

Another drip.
More beeps.

Niall's chest rises and falls with each second.
Mechanically.

When the seizure had ended, he'd only been able to stand and watch as the paramedics performed CPR on his youngest. They'd assured him that he would be okay, that he would wake up again when they'd gotten a pulse.

And here he is, two nights later. No change.
It's better than a change for the worse.

"We're going to work through this, you hear me? You and me and your brothers. It's gonna get better, baby. Whatever - whatever happens, whatever led to this...we'll work through it."

And he means it.
No more shouting, no more arguments.

He remembers the times when he and Zayn had fought in the past. How Niall had always gotten so upset. He never would have thought that it would be the two of them screaming at each other.

Niall is the baby of the family.
Always will be, no matter what.

And they're going to solve this just like they solve everything else. They're going to sit him down and have him talk through everything that has led up to this exact moment, and they're going to make sure he knows exactly how loved he is (because he is - he really is).