Chapter Text
Louis opens his eyes lethargically to the sound of rapid, alarmed thumping against his hotel room door.
He glances over at the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table and wonders if he's missed his alarm. If he has than he can guarantee himself the pounding on the opposing side of the door is an exasperated member of their production team preparing to - for a lack of better words - "chew him out".
The clock reads that it's only two in the morning, meaning he has another six hours before he’s meant to wake up and drive to the airport.
Usually, he's awake at this time with Zayn, playing an illimitable playlist of undiscovered rap artists and smoking a joint to calm the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
Sun Life had been sizable tonight, over 53, 000 fans attended. It was the last show of the Where We Are tour. Now, it was back to the UK as soon as morning came.
All of the boys agree, it's hard to wind down from a concert as unbelievably and astonishingly massive like the one tonight. Stadium shows leave them feeling entirely different than arena shows do.
The music still pulsates dully in Louis’s ears. In spite of his raw, burning throat, he still wants to belt out the lyrics to Right Now. His vocals are always noticeably stronger when they perform that track, not to mention it’s always a crowd pleaser.
He begins to lay his head back on the pillow, he needs all the sleep he can get and after all, it probably is one of their music producers preparing to beg him to redo a chorus for their new album, FOUR - the underline one hundred percent necessary. He doesn't know who else it could possibly be, most know not to bother him when he’s sleeping. He never wakes up with a positive attitude.
“Louis! Are you awake? Lou, get up!” He hears the disembodied voice shout through the door. He recognizes it, but he’s too dazed to tell who it is. It's definitely either one of the boys or security.
Louis gradually pulls the cover back, allowing a shock of cold air to attack his partially bare body, and he climbs out of bed. A shiver runs down his spine. This causes him to briefly debate answering the door with the duvet tugged tightly around his body.
Perhaps he wouldn't be as cold if his bloody fiancé had joined him. He doesn't sleep very well when he's alone in bed as it is, though hotel rooms make everything a bit worse. They're too unfamiliar, but Harry can't stand when he sleeps on the tour bus. And they can't both fit in a single bunk on the bus which means no cuddles for Harry and he doesn't like that idea at all.
Of course, the one night he doesn't choose to stay up until the early hours of the morning - though one a.m. is hardly a reasonable bedtime considering how busy their lives are, is the one night Harry decides he wants to stay up with the boys.
“Louis! Come on, mate, you really need to wake up. Louis.” It’s Liam. His senses are starting to come back to him. He can tell by the trepidation in the voice, also known as the tone only Liam gets in his voice when something has gone wrong.
The first thing that comes to his mind, as morbid as it is, is that Sophia has broken it off with Liam. They’d been having problems, recently with the distance and rumors taking a severe turn for the worst in recent weeks. He understands the need for support, but why couldn’t he go to Zayn who offers spiritual advice, ‘aha. life’s crazy.’, or Niall who’s not well experienced but could humor him out of contemplating it, or Harry who’s humble and would do anything to get his mind off of it. Why him? He’s not experienced in his own relationship with his own fiancé, for Christ’s sake, but he’s all about being a ‘daredevil’ and living on the edge, figuratively, which is rather handy in a depressing situation, he supposes.
He’s pegged notoriously by management and the label as Tomlinson the Troublemaker. It has a nice ring to it. Louis supposes that he already has his name sorted out for when he's no longer in a boy band and working as a one man act in sleazy night clubs.
It's not like management and the label are wrong. After all, he is the person who enticed Zayn into smoking marijuana when he was down about rumors circulating his relationship with Perrie.
Louis doesn’t bother putting a shirt or sweats on, the boys have seen it all many times before, why would he start to impress now?
The invasive pounding on the door hasn’t stopped, it's increased in sound and speed, if anything.
“Lou-“ Liam’s in the middle of calling Louis’s name when the man of the hour himself yanks the door open.
He immediately realizes that there’s something off about Liam’s demeanor. “Liam it’s nearly two thirty in the morning. What could you possibly need?”
The buff brunette appears to be panicking, out of breath, and fidgety.
“Harry’s having a seizure. It’s a grand-mal.”
Louis doesn’t verbally express an emotion at first, instantly becoming conscious of everything, he can feel his heart thumping against his sternum. Liam swallows down his fear and anxiety, his current emotions aren't even comparable to what Louis must be feeling, and he leads Louis to Niall's room.
Louis can't speak, he can't get words to form, there's too much adrenaline pumping in his body.
Louis and all the boys know about Harry’s history with seizures. He’s had epilepsy since he was young, about four, due to a "chemical imbalance" in his brain. They’re a rare occurrence due to many factors, but mainly because Harry takes medication to keep them at bay. He’s only ever had a handful of seizures in front of them, most of which were solitary with Louis and managed to make Louis’s heart stop and subsequently put him in a protective mode for weeks to follow.
The first seizure he ever underwent in front of Louis left a trail of mortification from his end and one of concern on Louis’s. Granted, it took place without warning; neither of them had expected Harry to collapse in the midst of speaking about his time working as a baker for the umpteenth time.
To this day, it was the most alarming incident Louis had ever been forced to witness. He hadn’t understood what he needed to provide in order to protect Harry’s welfare at that point in time.
All five of the boys always stay on the same floor of the hotel, typically in rooms’ right beside each other, if not rooms a few doors down. It’s convenient for all involved. Security gets a better handle on the boys’ location to ascertain their safety and the boys are able to go room to room without difficulty.
It’s a quick run to Niall’s room, where Liam informs Louis the travesty has happened, and Louis forces himself to take a deep, focused breath before he opens the door.
He has no idea what he’s walking in on.
Liam remains stoic and silent, a normal behavior for the younger lad, as he stands adjacent to Louis. He places a hand on his upper bicep, squeezing in reassurance. “It’ll be alright.” He soothes, but Louis can’t find comfort in those words until he declares it for himself.
"He hasn't had a fit like this in months. I hate seeing him like this." He's trying to collect his composure before he walks inside. He certainly doesn't want to break down in front of the boys or more importantly in front of Harry when he's in such a time of need. He can already feel tears starting to surface.
"I know. I know, Lou, but it's going to be alright. I promise."
He's wasting precious time, whether he's prepared or not no longer matters. Harry needs him. Louis grabs the handle of the door, allowing himself another deep inhale, before he wrenches the door open. He’s greeted with the hapless, unnerving sight of Harry withering on the floor, Zayn kneeling down adjacent to him and attempting to cushion Harry’s head, with his hand, from smashing off of the floor, and Niall standing off to the side with a petrified, wide-eyed stare and his thumb nail wedged in between his scarcely parted lips.
The two conscious boys whirl their heads around to face Liam and Louis in the doorway.
Louis doesn’t hesitate at the door, unlike Liam who’s too distraught to react to the current situation playing out in front of him. He’s on his knees beside Harry in what can only be counted in nanoseconds. His index and middle fingers attach to Harry’s neck, checking for his pulse, he’s relived when he discovers it to be consistent. “How long has he been seizing?”
Zayn replies, apprehension and indisposition evident in his decrepit tone, “I don’t know, exactly.”
“How long has he been seizing?” Louis repeats, dangerously close to losing his patience.
Niall clears his throat, in attempt to sound unperturbed, though his voice still manages to sound faint, “A minute or so.”
Louis doesn’t reply, instead his fingers brush against Harry’s trembling upper arm. He’s going to be sick. "You're doing so good darling," He whispers. Multiple times or not, it’s rough to see the love of his life in such condition. “Liam, don’t just fucking stand there, fetch me a pillow, would you?"
“Help me get him on his side, Z.” Louis directs and both of them gently roll Harry onto his left side, facing Louis, and Louis lightly runs his fingers through a section of Harry’s hair. “You’re going to be alright, babe. Bear with me now. It’ll all be over soon. I promise, you've just got to hold on a few seconds longer for me." he whispers, sweetly.
Harry’s body is moving in inhumane ways, limbs flailing like a child who’s drowning, and neck arching upwards and side to side. There's a repetitive high-pitched squeal pushing past his lips, "Hush, love, it's okay. Shh. You're okay," His fingertips skims over Harry's clammy forehead. There isn't one single part of him that isn't spasming or twitching, “What happened? Did this happen out of nowhere?”
“We were just chilling out and we could tell something was a bit off. By the time he admitted he felt poorly, he was already standing up to go get you and he fell out on the floor as soon as he stood.” Zayn explains, voice pitched octaves higher and horrified.
A pillow is thrust in front of Louis face and Louis gives Liam a grateful glance to which Liam solemnly nods and steps back. Louis immediately shoves the pillow under Harry’s head as Zayn holds the younger boys head up. “Come on, love, it'll be alright,” Louis encourages; his fingers continue to graze Harry’s abnormally warm flesh. “What do you mean he was a bit off?”
“Well you know how he gets.”
Louis clenches his jaw. “I can’t say that I do.”
Niall’s the first one to speak up, “His words were slurred, could hardly understand him, he wasn’t making much sense either, and he was blinking like he had some sort of tic.”
Louis swears he’s seeing red. His skin is prickling with rage. He whips his head around to face Niall who’s currently being comforted by an exhausted looking Liam. “And you didn’t think it was a bloody good idea to come and get me?”
Liam sighs, “Louis. Don’t take it out on Niall.”
“Yeah, Lou, it isn’t his fault Harry had a seizure.” Zayn quickly adds.
“I’m not taking anything out on anyone! You three twats completely ignored the signs of a seizure. Why?”
“We thought he was tired. He gets like that when he’s tired and -” Niall tries to rationalize, but he’s cut short by the look of rage Louis shoots him.
“Make yourself useful and go get a wet cloth,” he says, acridly, speaking through clenched teeth. He’s going to hold a grudge over this one for a while.
Niall scurries off to the bathroom and both Zayn and Liam remain silent in attempt to keep Louis from becoming more infuriated.
Louis looks back at Harry and swallows. He sincerely hopes he'll quit thrashing soon, if this seizure goes past five minutes then he’s required to get an ambulance on the phone because it guarantees something isn't right in that beautifully troubled head of his. "Come on, Harry. Come back to me darling. I need you to quit seizing, okay? You're scaring me here." He whispers and gently comes into contact with Harry's cheek. He definitely doesn't like the burning sensation that greets his palm when he touches him. It isn't a feeling a passion, but a physical feeling of Harry becoming overheated.
Harry's face is flushed and painfully tense. His eyelids are clenched tightly and his lips are composed in a tight line, looking nothing like the gentle featured Harry he knows.
A quiet discomforted noise eludes Zayn's mouth after Harry stiffly and involuntarily smacks Zayn's thigh. Louis glances up at him, with a perilous look in his stormy blue eyes and sharp traits as if telling him he'd better suck it up. Zayn quickly mutters an apology.
Louis doesn't understand where the seizure emerged from. Harry had been acting normal, as normal as Harry can possibly act, all day.
Realization suddenly hits Louis; Harry had been exhibiting signs of a seizure all day.
In their dressing room earlier this afternoon Harry had been repining of a headache, but when Louis had gone into full coddling parental mode, Harry had backed off and assured him it wasn’t too bad. He loathes dragging attention to himself; he once confided in Louis and told him the attention makes him feel like a helpless child.
After the concert Louis distinctly remembers getting on the tour bus and Harry grabbing and leaning all his weight onto the arm of the couch, complaining of feeling light-headed and nauseous, but Louis had passed it off as getting too worked up during the show, Harry was always dancing on stage and he often exerted himself. Harry told him he was right and he went to go lay down and that was the end of it.
“Louis. He stopped.” Zayn apprises.
All of Louis’s attention falls back onto Harry and Zayn’s right about something, Harry has finally stopped seizing. There’s still tremors’ running through his body, but in descending intervals.
Niall comes back out with a damp washcloth and Louis snatches it away from him, without as much as a vocalization or a glance. He drapes it over Harry’s forehead after having Zayn assist him with laying Harry onto his back once more.
“Did he hit his head?” Louis asks, quietly, as he cards his fingers through Harry’s dark curls which only make his complexion that much prettier.
Harry is a princess. Harry is now to be referred to as Snow White in Louis’s mind. He can’t wait to marry this boy and the temptation furthers with each second he spends with him, seizing, unconscious, or fully awake.
“He might have, but he isn’t bleeding and I didn’t see any bumps.” Zayn says.
Liam swallows harshly. “He went down pretty hard. I didn’t move fast enough to break his fall. I’m sorry Louis.”
“It’s okay,” Louis manages to say. “At least you moved the coffee table and the couches out of the way, yeah? You lads did well.” Louis feels around Harry's head for any lumps. “He’s going to be just fine. I’m sure the carpet gave him a bit of a cushion. Did he fall forward or back?"
"Forward." Liam whispers.
Louis watches Harry closely. He appears incredibly young. His skin tone is a bit paler and flushed than normal which is understandable from the fit he had seconds ago and his lips are scarcely parted and graced with a deep pink tint. He’s gorgeous even considering the circumstances. If this is what he appears like when he’s sleeping than Louis should watch him more often. This boy is a literal angel. He’s marrying heaven’s gift to this world.
“Um – Louis?”
“What Niall?” Louis snaps, the words sharper and more venomous than he intended. His expression softens a bit once he realizes Niall didn’t know what to do and it isn’t entirely his fault, it’s partially everyone’s fault, himself included. He should have questioned Harry earlier. “What Niall?” Louis repeats, this time more gentle in nature.
“He – Harry, he, uh,” Niall nods towards him and Louis doesn’t quite understand. Niall’s nodding at something concrete but Louis still doesn’t quite understand, that is until he sees the wet spot sousing the front of Harry’s sweatpants.
“Oh.” He whispers and he knows, he just knows, Harry’s going to be ten times more mortified than he already will be. He’s more sensitive than usual after seizures.
“Here mate,” Liam pulls his flannel off and tosses it to Louis. Louis replies with a tight-lipped smile. He swathes the flannel across Harry’s thighs and crotch.
It’s almost immediately after Louis slings the flannel over Harry's hips that a reaction starts to arouse from Harry. It’s easy to miss at first; he starts to shift under the analyzing stares of Louis, Liam, Zayn, and Niall. “That’s it, love, open your gorgeous green eyes for me. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere,” Louis whispers, encouragingly, as swipes his thumb back and forth over Harry’s cheekbone.
Small whimpers of Lou start to emit their way from Harry’s parted lips. “That’s it sweetheart. Open your eyes for me. I’m right here.” He whispers and slowly, but surely, Harry’s eyes flutter open. His eyes are unfocused, he has to blink multiple times in order to even remotely clear his vision, and once his sight is no longer blurry, he winces at the unnatural lighting in the room.
All the boys remain silent as Harry begins to come to, in fact, they all exchange glances before silently deciding to walk out to the balcony and leave Louis to tend to Harry. Zayn pats Louis’s back on the way out of the room.
“Harry.” Louis whispers, sweetly, and Harry’s eyes lethargically move to meet Louis’s. He looks exhausted and utterly confused of everything. “Harry, baby, do you know who I am?”
It takes Harry a few seconds to react, but he nods. “'m 'ou.” he mumbles, his words are garbled together and it’s difficult for Louis to understand, but he gets the idea of it. My Lou.
“Your Lou?” Louis teases and he presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek.
“Mm. Wha' - What 'appened?” Harry asks. He's in obvious distress.
“You had a seizure, babe.”
Harry opens his mouth to speak, but instead gives a small moan before he vomits. Louis is definitely prepared for it, unfortunately that’s usually what Harry does after he starts to revive from a seizure, and helps Harry move back onto his side as he empties the contents of his stomach on the hotel room carpet. “It’s alright, Haz. Relax. It’s perfectly fine. Breathe.”
He’ll get room service to take care of the small puddle of vomit. It isn’t his number one priority right this moment.
Louis slides the wet cloth off of Harry’s forehead and tosses it to the side. “Are you finished love? Think you can sit up?” Louis asks, patiently and calmly. Harry gives him a weak nod and so then Louis helps Harry sit up. It’s a bit of a struggle because Harry’s muscles are still stiff and weak, it leaves Louis to do most of the work. He doesn’t mind too much though.
He wraps his arms around Harry’s waist tightly and Harry buries his face into Louis’s shoulder. They stay like that for a few moments, in absolute silence as they both gain their composure. Louis’s blood pressure decreases gradually as his panic deteriorates.
Louis hands carefully brush over different areas of Harry’s body, checking for any injuries. “Harry, does anything hurt?”
“Just my head.” Harry whispers, sniffling quietly. His arms are securely around Louis and he has no intentions of letting go.
Louis pulls away from the boy and places his hands on either one of Harry’s cheeks, forcing him to pay attention. “Where does your head hurt?”
Harry vaguely points to a region right around the crown of his head. Louis sighs and he gently runs one hand through Harry’s thick mop of hair. He’s done this close to a million times because his little sisters are a tad clumsier than Harry. He doesn’t feel any bumps, but he knows there will be odd bruising in strange parts of his body and soreness when Harry wakes up in the morning, but he hopes it won’t be too severe.
“I don’t feel anything.” Louis whispers and places a gentle kiss on Harry’s temple. “Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?”
“I didn’t feel well and I stood up to go get you.” At least his story matches up with the boys and he isn’t thoroughly deranged, that’s a weight off of Louis’s shoulders.
Louis kisses Harry’s hairline. “Tell me about this mysterious sickness, yeah?”
“I felt spacey. I couldn’t focus, Lou, and my vision was really blurry and I kept trying to blink it away. I felt detached and I knew something bad was going to happen, I could just feel it in the pit of my stomach, you know? My muscles kept tightening up and when I stood I couldn’t move.” Harry explains.
Louis feels awful; his heart breaks a bit at having to hear the tone Harry discusses it with. He sounds disgusted with himself. “Why didn’t you have one of the boys come and get me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you. I thought I could make it go away myself, but by the time I realized that I was about to have a seizure it was too late.”
“Don’t talk like that. You could never bother me. I love you way too much. If you’re going to have a seizure, I want to be there. I don’t care what time it is or where I am. I want to be there, understand?”
Harry swallows. “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good,” Louis draws in a deep breath. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” Harry hesitates. “Lou, can I ask you a question?”
Louis nods. “Anything you want babe. What’s up?”
“Is this Liam’s flannel?” He asks as he runs his fingers over the soft fabric.
Louis manages to squeak out, “Yes.”
“Why is Liam’s flannel on my lap?” He pulls back the red and black flannel, revealing the dark and damp spot covering his crotch, before Louis gets a chance to explain and a cry leaves Harry’s lips, “Oh no.” His chest heaves with anguish and he looks terrified. “Oh no.” Tears well up in his emerald green eyes and his cheeks shift to a dark crimson color.
“Harry, don’t cry. Oh no, baby please don’t cry.” Louis quickly tries to assure him that it’s alright, but Harry’s past comfort, crying silently as he stares at the wet spot.
He covers his face with his hands and sobs into them. “I’m fucking disgusting. Oh god.”
“You’re not disgusting. No, you’re not disgusting. Don’t say that. Harry, listen to me.” Louis places his hands over Harry’s. “Would you listen to me?”
“I’m twenty years old and I’ve pissed my pants, Louis.”
“You had a seizure Harry. Look at you, you are a brave twenty year old living with a disability,” Harry spreads his fingers and peeks through at Louis. He sniffles in response. “You are a worldwide phenomenon with a hidden disability. You’re brave and I love you because you’re courageous and strong enough to live past this and follow your aspirations.”
They chose not to tell the fans because that isn’t what Harry wanted to be known as. He didn’t want to be known as a boyband member with epilepsy. He wanted to be known as caring and loving Harry Styles, a member of the successful and unique boyband One Direction. Louis can’t say that he doesn’t agree because he does, whole-heartedly, and when the day comes where Harry has an episode in front of the fans then that will be the day they’ll choose to announce it.
Harry giggles. “I love you too.” He places a kiss on Louis’s jaw and then Louis’s left cheekbone and then Louis’s cute button nose and then Louis’s perfectly pink lips.
Louis can’t help but grin. “Now that we have that settled, why don’t we get you up and to bed?”
Louis stands up, only to lean down and grip underneath Harry’s arms in order to help him stand up. Usually, Harry tends to have weakness on the right side of his body after a seizure and requires a bit of assistance. “You’re going to have to help me. I can’t get you up all on me lonesome.”
Harry assists Louis in standing himself up more than either of them expected and he hardly needs Louis, but he wouldn’t be able to make it back to Louis’s room without his assistance. He uses Louis as a post to lean on as they walk and Louis can honestly say he wouldn’t want it any other way.
Yes, Louis is definitely going to marry this boy.