Chapter Text
Niall is mindlessly scrolling through the messages that his best friends have sent him - reading the start of every im sorry ur back at hospital but never daring to reply - when he hears the news for the first time.
It's a whispered conversation between two girls, "Did you hear that One Direction will come to visit in a week?" And Niall can't stop listening after that. It's a bit pathetic if you ask him, eavesdropping a group of girls talking about the biggest boy band in the world. But Niall's been longing for something exciting to happen for weeks, needs some rush of hope, bliss, no one can blame him for that. He's a fan of those boys, has been for a good three years and has ineffectively tried to get in contact with them in one way or another.
(He loves saying that, and then grinning before saying that's one of their songs, you know even if people always roll their eyes at him)
So to know that they're possibly coming makes a shiver go down his spine. He won't believe it until the nurses confirm it, of course. One time a girl told him that the very same Justin Bieber would come and it was bullshit. He's met plenty of celebrities before, because the hospital he's in is a well-recognized one, bless his mum for paying for it. The nurses always tell them a few days prior, so they are showered and pretty and they fix their messy beds before the famous person comes.
He has Demi Lovato's autograph glued to his wall, he has plenty of stories to tell.
His eye catches a message from Sean, his best friend, that says check that account u follow, dude, the 1d lads are doin charity, probs goin over der and his heart rate picks up once again. He wonders if the beeps get too alarming someone would come and check on him, wonders if it would be to embarrassing to say that he's fine, he just read a rumour about his favourite band coming to visit him.
Not exactly him but he reckons it sounds better than anything else.
+
He gets told the rumour is real and official two days after that. The nurse, a kind and lovely woman named Patricia tells him as she puts on the needle for his next session of chemo, "Yes, Niall, they confirmed their arrival yesterday, they're most likely to get here in a few days, we'll tell you the exact day this week" she says, patting his shoulder and leaving shortly after that.
Niall is sure this is the first time the chemo doesn't hurt.
+
"I hope every single one of you have your rooms tidy and clean for tomorrow morning. The One Direction boys will be here at noon to meet you and have a nice chat with all of you" Patricia announces to all the kids in the 'playground' room. It's more like a colourful room full of toys and crayons so the little kids don't get bored inside their rooms all day. Niall is nineteen, but he enjoys spending his time there rather than the T.V room that is for older patients. "We will wake you all up a little bit earlier so they don't arrive in the middle of the daily check-ups, okay?" There's a communal sound of agreements and Niall can't believe this is really happening.
His room is always clean. It's small and he has a big window that lets the sunlight in, when there's sun, that is. He likes to keep it organized. It's not like he has many things in there anyway, the longest he's had to stay at hospital was three months, after a major surgery that had to be done, but so far, this time he's only been two weeks hospitalized, has to stay for a while because cancer decided it was time to make another move.
He doesn't like to think about that.
He cleans anyway, makes sure the corners of his posters are glued to the wall and not hanging and risking to be broken. He changes his sheets and puts a rose and a vanilla scented candle by the window, he puts his favourite and most comfy pillow on the sofa next to his bed, so in case any of the boys want to sit there they find it comfortable enough to stay for a while.
Niall is not one for choosing favourites, but if Harry Styles asked for a seat right beside him he would never be able to deny it to him.
He imagines a thousand and one scenarios where he tells them his best jokes and they laugh loud at them, where they tell him all sort of funny stories about living life inside a tour bus and he hopes they never ask him about his disease. He imagines them nice and smiley, cheery like they always seem in the 800 interviews Niall has watched. He pictures Zayn or maybe Louis ruffling his hair, the little he still has left, and he pictures them smiling and telling him they had a good time, that they will come back.
Niall can't stop thinking about it and for the first time in months, he falls asleep with a small smile on his face.
+
Morning finally comes and Niall is disappointed to hear they will be separated in different rooms.
He bits his nails for what feels like hours until there's a knock at his door. He's nervous, and anxious to see which one of them he'll get to meet. "Come in" he says, disliking how shaky his voice sounds already.
One of the nurses opens the door and smiles brightly at him, "Morning, Niall. I came here with a little surprise!" she sing-songs and then there's footsteps getting closer to his room.
Niall closes his eyes, shuts them tight and for bigger measure, puts his hands over his face. (Which doesn't help at all, because he still peeks out to see through the space between his fingers). He hears the nurse giggling, saying something like "stop being a baby and say hi!" so he does, slowly opens his eyes to see a pair of old, grubby, brown boots and his breath hitches in his throat as his gaze keeps going up and he sees a nice pair of legs wrapped perfectly in ripped skinny jeans and a sweater that looks fluffy and warm enough for a rainy day like today. He looks up completely to find a fond and amused smile and a pair of green eyes staring up at him, "Hi!"
"I- uh, hello, yeah, I'm- Niall, hi," he replies awkwardly and mentally buries his head in his pillow. He just stuttered so badly in front of Harry Styles.
"No need to be shy, it's nice to meet you, I'm Harry," he beams at him, Niall is slowly melting in his sheets.
"Yeah I- I know that," he chuckles and feels something weird in his stomach when Harry laughs back, "you, want to take a seat or something? That sofa is quite good."
"Now that you mention, yeah, thanks! Lou made us run six flight of stairs, I'm knackered," he shakes his head as he sits down, carefully removing the pillow Niall had set there the night before, putting it on his lap and looking at Niall's room curiously, "you have quite a view from here, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do, it's nice to see the sunrise when I've got them early mornings," Niall says, getting comfortable in his bed, wrapping the blankets tighter around his body because today is one of those days when his ache is chronic, when painkillers don't help and cold makes it worse, "I tried to convince me mum to put the bed by the window but she said I was nuts."
Harry lets out a beautiful chuckle and he looks back at Niall, "Well, she's right! Imagine how cold would it be to sleep by that thing, is huge!" he laughs, "I like your room."
"Yeah? Thank you, I always like a bit of tidiness in here, makes me feel settled," and Niall doesn't really want to go there, doesn't want to bring the topic of "what is your disease? why are you here?" doesn't want to tell Harry how hard it is to get used to be in a hospital for a good half of your life, he wants to avoid Harry asking anything related to that.
"I can relate, it's like at hotel rooms, I like to keep them clean so they feel more, homey? Not that this is a hotel but, you get my point, yeah?" Harry stumbles with his words and Niall blushes.
"Yeah, yeah it's something like that, we live similar lives, eh, with slight differences," Niall laughs.
"You've got a guitar over there, is it yours?" Harry asks, eyes wide with curiosity and genuine care.
"Yeah you could say that, I play it every once in a while, to the little kids in the ward, they love it. I guess it distracts them of this environment, and I guess it distracts me too," Niall word vomits. He didn't meant to say all of that, because he hates how every time he talks about his life he's talking about hospitals and sickness and cancer. It's depressing, and that's not a side he wants Harry to see.
Harry is looking at him intently now, with something in his eyes that makes Niall flush, makes him feel small and wide open for Harry to see, like the curly haired boy is reading all his thoughts and feeling all his feelings. He really hopes he won't come out with something like "you're so strong, Niall!" He's not up for any of that bullshit.
"Can I hear you play? Any song you want, or not if you, uh, if you don't want to play, that's okay too-"
"Harry of course" Niall interrupts his babbling, "I mean, sure, of course I will play for you," he smiles at him and Harry smiles back and nods.
"Do you want me to grab it? Or..." Harry asks, pointing at the guitar that is sitting sad and lonely in the other side of the room. Niall thinks it would be a long walk, for him anyway, for his leg that is always throbbing and making it difficult to take a few steps by himself, he wants to save the embarrassment of Harry seeing him like that, so he quakes out a small "yeah, please," as he removes some of the blankets and makes room for his beloved guitar.
Harry puts it softly beside him on the bed and stays there for a few seconds until Niall looks up at him to find a question in his eyes, "you can sit on the bed if you want, not as comfy as the sofa but, yeah." Harry doesn't hesitate, he sits close to him, warmth radiating off of him and making Niall queasy. "Do you have any special request, I mean, you're the guest here."
"No, not really, play anything you want, I'll be glad with whatever you choose," he says with a small smile on his face. Niall starts playing random chords, he lets his fingers run softly against the strings until he finds a rhythm he feels familiar with. He goes with 'the A team'. He starts singing quietly but it gets a bit louder when he sees nothing but amazement in Harry's eyes. They finish together, and it's a kind of a joke, Harry exaggerating the last note and Niall laughing at him loudly, all the bashfulness gone, and they end up laughing together for what feels like an eternity.
"You have a lovely voice, Niall," Harry says sincerely when their laughs have turned into quiet giggles and their cheeks are not as red, "I really enjoyed it, you have this thing, like, it's wonderful, you sing with your soul," Harry smiles, "I'm saying ridiculous things but, you really do have a fantastic voice."
Niall is blushing like a mad man, trying to get his smile to go down, "I- wow Harry thank you, I just- coming from you this is just-"
"Don't say that, I'm just a lad like you, who loves to sing too," Harry shrugs, "nothing special, really."
"Are you kidding?" Niall huffs, "Harry you are, you four are fucking brilliant!"
And this time is Harry's turn to blush, "Oh shut it you!" Harry laughs.
"I'm serious, I was shitting my pants when I heard you guys were coming," Niall shakes his head.
"Are you a fan, then?" Harry asks, and Niall thinks that is a smug smile on his face.
"And you are just now figuring it out? Didn't it give you a clue when I couldn't even look at you when you got in the room?"
Harry's smile widens at that, "I thought you were just shy" he says, but he gets interrupted by a loud and obnoxious knock in the door that is followed by a "c'mon Harry, we gotta go!" that Niall recognizes as Louis' voice. Harry looks apologetic and sad when he looks back at him.
"I'm- wow this hour passed by way too fast, didn't it?" he chuckles as he fixes his hair, Niall's heart is beating unhealthily fast once again, "do you maybe want a picture or something?"
Niall doesn't want Harry to leave, not so soon, not when they still have so many things to talk about, when Niall wants to keep making Harry laugh, when he still wants Harry to share stories and jokes with him.
"Niall?" Harry's voice startles him and he looks at him with wide and sad eyes.
"Yeah, sorry, uhm could you sign my guitar?" he asks, and his fingers shake when he hands the guitar to Harry. The younger boy smiles at him brightly and signs it, moving his fingers painstakingly slow, and when he's done, Niall grabs the guitar again to find a neat and perfectly clear Harry Styles xx :) at the bottom of it. He wants to cry suddenly, he wants this to last longer, he wants to stay in Harry’s calm and gentle presence for a few hours more.
"Niall, would you freak out if I say I want to stay in touch with you?" Harry asks, "like we could text, maybe? You don’t seem to be the type to share my number in every social media, I feel like I can trust you," he laughs, but he looks nervous, and if Niall's gut feeling is right, he's more nervous about texting Niall than about fangirls getting his phone number.
"Jesus, are you serious? Of course, I would love to! Keeping touch with you, I mean, not giving out your number!" Niall's cheeks flush for the umpteenth time that hour but he doesn't care because Harry looks relieved and genuinely happy with his answer.
They exchange numbers and take a pic (that Niall will print and stick on his wall as soon as he can) and when Harry leaves, he kisses Niall's cheek gently, as if he's just checking if it's okay, when he sees a glint in Niall's eyes he does it again, with more determination this time.
+
His next chemo session is less bearable than the last one. It’s just a few hours after Harry and the rest of the boys left, and Niall had been feeling in cloud nine until he passed out on his way to the bathroom.
It’s been happening more often than not, this blacking out thing. He’s feeling alright until he’s not. Until he can’t hold himself up, not even sitting, and his body shuts down. He’s lost count of the amount of scares he’s given his mum, and the nurses, and as a consequence, after dealing with more needles and x-rays, he was told the best option was to add a few more chemo sessions per week. Despite the fact that he felt weaker and sicker each time, the doctors guaranteed him that this was the only way to prevent metastasis.
It’s after he pukes for the third time in less than an hour that his mum states he needs a distraction. And when the sparse replies he’s been getting from Sean get too frustrating, he takes deep breaths until he musters up the courage to send a simple hey to Harry.
The response comes five minutes after, Niall? Hiiiiiiiiiiii! Good to hear from you. X
Same ! What r u up to? Niall sends back. He feels lightheaded enough to not worry if he’s stepping over invisible boundaries, he’s just delighted he’s texting Harry Styles yet it feels like he’s just talking to his childhood friends.
Not much. Having a bite before going on stage. You? :)
That’s when Niall freezes. Because how does he casually say he’s at one of his usual chemo sessions without talking about chemo sessions?
His mum squeezes his knee from where she’s sitting beside him on the bed, obviously and unashamedly reading Niall’s text conversation. Niall is not bothered. She probably won’t believe he’s actually talking to the Harry Styles.
“You can tell him, love. Actually, you should.” Maura says.
“Mum, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m talking to Harry, like, you know One Direction’s Harry. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable by talking about my illness when he’s having a grand time with his mates.”
Maura just looks at him sadly, “Honey, I am aware. The nurses told me how you two were staring lovingly at each other the whole hour he visited,” she says. Niall doesn’t miss the teasing tone of her voice, “but if he gave you his number, is for a reason.”
Niall hears what she’s not voicing out loud, and she’s right. Harry knows about his condition, whether he was told by one of the nurses, or he read it right off his chart that’s glued to the end of this bed. He knows Niall is sick, and Niall achieves nothing by not talking about it, because it’s still there. A heavy and unwanted topic neither of them wants to touch but that’s not going away. Not any time soon at least.
His phone buzzes in his hand, startling him. You still there? :( Don’t go!!!
Yeah im here, sorry, got a bit distracted over here haha he sends back. The fact that cancer is the elephant in the room doesn’t mean he has to acknowledge it right away.
Am I not interesting enough?! Harry sends, with a broken heart emoji at the end of the text, Niall chuckles.
Damn, what gave it away? :P
Niaaaaaaaaaall!! :(
Hahaha Im jokin ! I quite like u, I think
Oh, do you? I quite like you too Mr Niall….?
Horan hhahah
Mr Horan! I’d love to stay here for a while but, duty calls
Go smash it mate, tell me about it later, rock it out !
Thanks :) Have a good sleep x
And there’s that.
+
It doesn’t stop there, of course. Most mornings Niall wakes up to a new message from Harry, sometimes a few missed calls, because Harry is in the U.S, Niall has noticed he often forgets about the bothersome time difference and always ends up calling Niall when he’s deeply asleep at ungodly hours in the morning.
It also doesn’t help that Niall’s been sleeping his age in hours.
It’s been 2 weeks and a bit since they met, and Niall still hasn’t felt brave enough to tell Harry about how ill he is. They spend hours texting and talking to each other on the phone. Sometimes even on Skype, when Harry has time and Niall feels awake enough. He’s also found the chemo gets just a bit easier with Harry’s endless knock knock jokes to distract him.
Today, though, it’s one of those days when the sky is clear and the sun is out but Niall doesn’t have the energy to even speak. He’s been ignoring the incessant buzzing of his phone since he woke up screaming in pain two hours ago. The morphine they gave him soothes the ache, but it also makes him feel like the smallest movement will break him in two.
His phone keeps vibrating, he pushes the button to call one of the nurses – who comes panting and looking alert – Niall has the audacity to feel guilty.
“Niall! For God’s sake, are you alright? How many scares will you give us until you understand that button is for emergencies only!” The nurse – Marty – Niall recalls, tells him.
Niall doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even show any sign of having listened to any of it, he just squeezes his eyes tighter and buries himself deeper into the blankets.
He hears Marty sigh, her footsteps coming closer, “what do you need, Nialler? Is the morphine working alright?”
Niall grunts, tries to move his head to nod. “Use your words, okay? How are you feeling, darling?” Marty is one of Niall’s favourite nurses. Because she’s gentle and patient, she lets Niall take his time to do the simplest things.
“Hurts, it hurts less but hurts,” Niall mumbles, “phone’s been buzzin’ for hours.”
“Oh, need me to fetch it for you, don’t you?” she asks playfully, “Is Harry demanding your attention again, eh? You have 5 missed calls and 8 unread texts, all from him.” She squeezes his hand and continues, “he wants you on Skype at 3pm sharp, says that it’s from high importance, must not miss it.”
“I can’t-“
“You can, and you will. It’s just 10am right now, give some time for the meds to fully kick in, we’ll keep you monitored and pain-free as much as we can, okay? Just sleep. I’ll wake you up a bit before to see how you’re feeling for that Skype call.”
“You’re the best Marty,” Niall mutters, opening his puffy red eyes to look at her. “t’anks”
“None of that, little fighter, now get some sleep. I’ll see you later.”
+
A bit after 3pm, Niall reckons he's feeling somewhat better. He managed to keep down his lunch and he’s been awake since then, taking small walks around the hallways to keep his legs from getting numb, as the nurses advised. His mum takes him back to his room, which has been cleaned and tidied while he was having lunch, it looks way better like this, with the curtains open and the bed made, looks less haunting.
“Is your laptop charged? Or do it plug it in anyway?” His mum asks as Niall slowly finds a comfortable position in the bed.
“It’s dead, I think,” he replies, forcing down a wince when he puts too much weight on his leg to arrange his pillows.
“Oh, what are you doing? Niall, please. Let me help you with that!” Maura more or less yells at him.
“I can do it, mum,” Niall whines, scrunching his eyes when a shooting pain up his leg makes him lose his balance and he ends up falling on his side, dangerously close to the edge of the bed. He’s going to give Maura a heart attack one of these days.
“Niall! Stop doing this. There’s nothing wrong with needing help,” Maura chastises him, helping him on his back, propped up by a good amount of pillows, with his blankets covering from waist down, where he feels the coldest. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
Niall nods, squeezing his mum’s hand, “’M good, mum, sorry. Thought I could fix me bed myself.” He mutters bitterly, not bothering to hide how upset and pathetic he feels.
Maura knows better than to say something else. She knows that in days like this Niall gets difficult, stubborn in a way that worries her sometimes. She quietly helps him settling his laptop on top of a pillow on his lap, neither of them say anything until Niall signs up in Skype, and before connecting the call with Harry, he turns to her, smiling sadly, “love you, mom.”
Maura nods and kisses his forehead, “I love you too, Ni. Tell Harry I say hi, yeah?” she slips out of the room when Harry’s blurry face appears in the screen, Niall’s wide smile assuring her that he’d be alright.
+
Harry's news are the most exciting thing out of the gloomy day he's having, he announced, with a huge and dimpled smile that they have an upcoming two-weeks break, and that he plans on coming to visit Niall. The blonde boy tries to tell him off, he’s sure Harry must have more interesting things to do. Better places to go than staying in a hospital with Niall’s sour mood… but it’s either Niall doesn’t try hard enough, or Harry’s mind is already set on it, no way of turning back.
Niall thinks it’s both.
As it always happens, they both lose sense of time while they’re talking, Niall only realizes it’s been hours since he accepted the call when he can’t finish a full sentence without yawning, and the throb in his knee is just another sign that the meds are wearing off. He feels exhausted; he’s been in pain since he woke up in the late morning, and he doesn’t want it to get worse enough to worry Harry.
“You look tired, Nialler. Should I let you rest?” Harry asks from the other side, a concerned frown taking over his face when Niall bites his lip to choke down a whimper. “You okay?”
“I’m- yeah I’m okay, just, knackered. Been a long day,” he musters up a smile, adjusting his blankets to be more lying down than sitting up. He can’t feel his toes.
“We’ll talk tomorrow, just go to sleep, love,” he says, “I’ll call you when I get to London, deal?”
Niall nods, feeling a bit more awake, “yeah, yeah sure, of course, I’ll have my phone with me at all times.”
“Good. Don’t keep me in the dark like you did earlier today,” Harry says, glaring playfully at him, it makes Niall laugh, but his stomach churns unpleasantly at the reminder of the terrible morning he had.
“I hope it won’t happen again, Haz.”
“Yeah,” Harry sighs, looking down at his hands and biting his lip. Niall has a feeling he knows something was wrong when Niall ignored his calls and texts for a good 3 hours, but he’s glad Harry doesn’t mention it, “I hope it never happens again.”
“It’s a bit early but, I’m heading up to bed now,” Niall says, and then he snorts and shakes his head, “I mean, I’m already in bed, but, y’know,” he laughs, looking away and pointedly ignoring Harry’s sad smile.
“Sweet dreams, Ni, we’ll talk tomorrow,“ Harry says, blowing a kiss to Niall and making a blush appear bright on Niall’s cheeks, as much as Niall tries to hide it and play it off, he’s sure Harry can see it through the bad lighting and the blurriness of his screen.
He blows a kiss to Harry too, feeling a bit bashful and fidgety, but he manages to fall asleep shortly after that, imagining Harry actually kissing him goodnight.