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Harry awoke in a pool of sweat.
"That's strange," he thought. It was the middle of January, and he was in bed on the bus. He shouldn't have been this warm. He tried sitting up to push his blanket back, but as soon as he rolled over, a bolt of pain shot through his stomach. He recoiled in shock and clutched the bedframe. Breathe.
All of a sudden a wave of nausea hit him. He knew he had to get to the bathroom, but he felt like he couldn't move. Then he started shivering. Hadn't he been sweating the moment before?
"Lou."
But his whisper was too faint. All around him was silence.
He tried again, I little louder.
"Lou?"
Nothing.
"Liam!"
Nobody was answering. He felt absolutely horrible, and he needed to get off of his bunk.
"Lou. . . Louis. " His voice cracked, and he startd to cry.
He didn't know why he was crying. It was only making him feel worse.
He heard someone moving. He didn't care who it was anymore.
"Help me," he whimpered. Please, let someone be awake. Please.
Someone was getting up.
"What's wrong??" It was Liam.
"Get me down."
"Harry?"
He climbed out of bed and was by his side in an instant. He moved the curtain, and was slightly taken aback by the tearstained face. But he gently brushed the hair off of his damp cheeks.
"What's wrong, mate?"
Harry was afraid to open his mouth, for fear of losing all the contents of his stomach.
"Feel shit," he muttered. "Bathroom. Can't move."
Before he could finish his sentence, Liam had pulled his blanket off, and was picking him up. One arm under his sticky back, the other under his knees.
"Ohhh." Harry gasped, curling up.
"Shhhhh. It's alright, you're ok."
He lowered him down and let his feet touch the floor, still holding him tightly around his chest.
"Can you stand, mate? Try to stand up."
Harry nearly doubled over.
"Right, then. We're not doing that."
He scooped him back up and brought him to the couch. He lay him gently across the cushions, and kneeled down by his head. Curls were plastered to his face and neck. Hot tears were still running down his cheeks. Liam bent over and gently brushed his hair out of the way, then planted a soft kiss on his forehead.
"My goodness, you're warm."
Harry let out a small moan in response.
"Sit tight, I'm getting you some medicine."
He curled into a ball, clutching his stomach.
"Fast," he whispered.
Liam started digging through his suitcase. Where was his medicine when he needed it??
Someone moved.
"What's all this?" It was Louis' voice, groggy with sleep.
"Harry," he muttered, not turning around.
Louis was out of bed in an instant.
"Where is he?"
"Couch." He pulled a small bottle of pills from his bag.
"Can you find me a water bottle?"
By the time Louis returned with one, Liam had Harry propped up against his shoulder.
He was holding two white pills in one hand, he had his other around Harry's arms, gently rubbing him, up and down. Louis sat down on the other side of him, careful not to spill the water he'd just opened.
Harry was hunched over and hugging himself, a shivering mess.
"Haz, please, take these. You'll feel better. Please, all you have to do is swallow them."
Liam held out his hand, and Harry took the pills. Tentatively, he put them in his mouth. Louis handed over the water bottle, but Harry was shaking too much to hold it properly. He helped him bring it to his mouth, and take a small sip. Then a little more.
"Please," thought Liam, "please let him keep it down."
And for a few minutes, he did. Louis breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted Harry in his arms, to cuddle him and rub his back and tell him he'd be ok. But Harry was leaning on Liam, and he didn't dare move him, afraid to further upset his stomach. He held his hand, though, and squeezed it tightly.
But Harry felt his stomach doing flips. He didn't feel any better after drinking the water, if anything, he felt worse. He started crying again, and Liam held him tighter. His shorts were sticking to his legs, and his arms were freezing.
All of a sudden, he covered his mouth, and bolted to the bathroom. He lost his footing and tripped right in front of the toilet, banging his chin on the seat, and then his stomach emptied. Louis was right behind him, holding his hair and rubbing his back. Wave after wave of nausea surged through him, and each time he vomited, he cried harder, gasping for breath. It was a vicious cycle, and it wasn't letting up.
"His inhaler, Liam, his inhaler!"
"Where is it?!"
"I don't know!!!"
Luckily, it was right by the side of his bed. He grabbed it, and ran back to Louis.
"Breathe, Haz, you need to breathe!!"
"Shhhhh, don't scare him!!" Liam hissed.
Zayn awoke with a start. He nearly fell out of bed, rushing to see what was going on. He caught a glimpse of Louis shaking Harry, who was keeled over in pain, and he gasped in shock, before Liam heard him and turned around.
"Call Paul, Zayn. Tell him we need help." Liam looked petrefied, and Zayn ran for his phone.
Louis lifted Harry's head, nearly thrusting the inhaler into his mouth. He was close to tears himself. He didn't know if Harry would spill again, but he wasn't taking any chances of him passing out.
One puff. Wait a second. Then another. Wait. One more. Harry seemed to relax for a minute, but then he lurched forward and threw up again.
"That's good, love, you're almost done. It's almost over." Louis' voice was shaking. All of a sudden he heard footsteps, and then he felt a large hand on his shoulder.
"It's alright, lad. You're alright."
Louis breathed a sigh of relief. Paul had a clean towel over his arm, and a thermometer in his hand. He waited for Harry to calm down a bit, then he pried him away from the toilet. He cleaned him off, and took his temperature. Louis held his hand and wiped the tears off his face. Liam wet a t-shirt, wrung it out, and laid it across Harry's sweaty forehead. He looked pale and absolutely spent, leaning against the bathroom wall.
Paul coaxed him to swallow more medicine, and then picked him up and brought him back to his bed.
Niall was awake at this point, standing tensley next to Zayn.
Harry curled up, exhausted.
"Listen, don't wake him up. Let him sleep as long as he does."
"We have an interview in the morning."
"I know. If he thinks he's up for it, he'll go. If not, he stays here. No way I'm letting him out in this state."
He did one last check to make sure the other boys were alright, and that Harry was asleep and cooling down. Then he bid them goodnight, and went back to the other bus.
One by one, the other boys got back in bed, except for Louis. He leaned over Harry, and kissed his shoulder. He listened to his steady breathing, and watched his chest rise and fall. He gently ran his fingers through his hair, and tucked his blanket around him.
"Gave us quite a scare there, love."
He kissed him again and then crawled into his own bunk, keeping an ear open in case Harry woke up again. In an hour or two, the sun would be coming up. He shifted positions, trying to get comfortable. Soon enough, he felt himself drifting off. Hopefully they'd all get some sleep, and Harry's fever would break. He closed his eyes, and whispered one last thing before he succumbed to his dreams.
"Love you, baby. Feel better soon."