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"After the break, One Direction will take the stage to perform their hit new single 'Perfect'."
One of One Direction's many, many stage executives slides in between the five of them. They've been stood in a circle until that very startling voice comes over the intercom. Then, they all separate. Zayn stands by Harry and Louis, Niall, and Liam are stood in front of them. "You're on in six minutes lads. Good luck." The exec says, giving each and everyone of them a once over, but his eyes stop on Harry.
There isn't a word spoken between him nor Harry. Harry tucks his bottom lip in between his teeth and his fingers nervously fidget at his side. Great. Anthony is going to call him out. He doesn't know how Anthony can tell he isn't up to par, but the glare being thrown his way makes him know, in fact, that he does.
"Harry." Anthony says, doesn't sound too concerned or interested, but the tone in which he uses to say his name demands Harry's attention. Harry shuts his eyes, though he can still feel the puzzled stares of his bandmates and Louis. If Anthony calls him out then he'll never hear the end of it from them, especially Louis.
But there's a moment of hesitance and a pat on his back before he hears, "Good luck out there tonight mate."
And that's the end of it. Harry opens his eyes and Anthony disappears, walks down the corridor or something, and leaves the five of them surrounded by techs and managers.
"That was odd, eh?" Zayn laughs, nudging his side, and Harry forces a laugh. Yeah that encounter was odd, but the feeling encompassing him is even more odd.
He hums in reply, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, and tries to blink the blur of colors and light invading his vision. Louis' staring at him, reaches out to touch him even, but Harry draws back, rasping out, "'m fine, Lou."
Liam flicks his eyes over to stare at Louis. They share a wordless conversation. Louis only shakes his head and sighs. Harry wouldn't tell him if something was wrong anyways. That's always been one of the main struggles in their relationship. Harry isn't a liar, per se, he just doesn't always remain truthful with Louis when it comes to his health.
He turns to face the stage entrance. Niall places a hand on his shoulder and whispers. "Don't worry about it. You know how he is. Stubborn."
"I know, but it doesn't make it any easier, y'know?" Louis shakes his head.
"Not really, but I understand." Louis glances over his shoulder to give him a questioning expression, eyebrows raised and all. "I do. It's frustrating to deal with someone's stubbornness when you're trying to help. You're the same way."
Louis' taken back. There is no way he behaves like Harry does. He doesn't hold himself on dishonesty or the disregard for other's concern. Not even a little. "I am not."
"Yeah, okay." Niall shrugs. "I don't mean it badly. It's just...well, you're kind of a stubborn dick sometimes when it comes to Harry, but I get it. I would be the same way with everything the two of you have been through."
Harry's still standing beside Zayn when the situation at hand intensifies. It starts with a metallic taste filling his mouth. His tongue slides along the roof of his mouth and his gums, feeling for a cut or scrap. He must have cut his mouth open. He has to be bleeding.
There's no way it's happening. It hasn't happened in over a year. He's silly to have even thought of it. That's ridiculous.
But when his fingers begin to spasm at his sides, he has trouble ignoring it. He still tries his hardest to avoid thinking of what may be occurring. His fingers have done this before without the s word happening, haven't they?
It isn't until his crotch and the inside of his thighs feel warm and moist that he starts to pay attention. He glances down at his groin and instantly realizes he's pissing his pants.
He's actually pissing his pants, backstage, at an international award show, when they're set to take the stage in minutes, and it isn't just a little piss. No, the piss is running down the inside of his pant legs and filling his shoes, and dripping on the tiled floor.
He doesn't even know why he's doing it. He didn't have to piss as of a few minutes before and he isn't a little kid. He knows when he has the urge to go and the urge was not there at all. Zayn glances over at him then and his eyes drop to the floor. They widen in shock. "What the fuck? Are you..." His voice is too loud. He lowers it. "Did you just piss yourself?" He asks, taking a step closer to Harry.
Harry wants to answer him, he does, because Zayn probably has the wrong idea right about now, but when he tries to speak, the words won't form. His mouth is numb. His tongue is numb and this metallic taste has intensified. Blood must be pooling in his mouth at this point.
When he tries to tell Zayn that he really, really doesn't feel right, his words come out in a babble of slurs, like he's a toddler. The words sound like incoherent noises rather than enunciated consonants and vowels.
"Harry." Zayn says, harsher than he normally would. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
Sparks of electricity attack his right side, like some circuit has just had gallons of water poured on it and it's lost function. He's lost function and he comes to the conclusion that he's having a seizure as soon as his body goes rigid and he can't hold himself up. Every single muscle in his body contracts.
"Harry? Mate, you alright?" Zayn asks, creasing his eyebrows together, and that's right when Harry's eyes roll back and he stiffly tips over.
"Fuck!" Zayn shouts. He manages to grab hold of him, one arm wrapped around his back and the other curved around his torso, before he hits the floor in a pile of sprawled limbs, but even then, the amount of force he comes down with has Zayn struggling to keep him upright. "Shit, Harry, I've got you. I've got you. It's alright."
Louis glances over his shoulder. "Oh my god." As soon as he lays eyes on Harry, he rushes to side with him and Zayn, and of course as soon as he moves Liam and Niall's attention is drawn to the situation.
Louis steps into the groove of things without a moment of hesitance. He touches Harry's cheek. "We've got you. It's okay love." He glances up at Zayn, past the tears forming in his eyes and the lump in his throat. "Get him on the floor."
As if to spite him, the seizing begins as soon as he tells Zayn to get Harry on the floor. The seizure starts with a contortion of his face, followed by a high pitched inhumane like squeal, and as the squealing transforms into guttural gasps for air, the full body convulsions begin.
"Zayn. Fuck. get him on the floor." Louis repeats. "You're going to hurt him."
"Louis, I...fuck, I can't not with him spasming like this." Zayn says honestly, trying to keep calm and his grip on Harry's blouse because Harry’s going to shake himself out of his arms at this rate. There's saliva all over Zayn’s arm, but he doesn't seem bothered by that, he's bothered by one of his best mates having a seizure in his arms. "You're going to have to help me hold him or else I can't move him."
Louis swallows. "Okay." He slips one hand underneath Harry and the other rests on top of his stomach, his stomach that's rapidly being sucked in and puffed out. "Here we go love. Zayn and I've got you. Nice and easy, sweetheart." He slowly helps Zayn get Harry laying down on the ground and as soon as he makes contact with the linoleum the seizure demonstrates how severe it is.
His head smacks off of the ground with a loud thud, the noises he’s making mix with sobbing, and Louis winces at the amount of hurt Harry's experiencing. He’s on his knees beside him, hands hesitating to touch him. When he glances up Zayn’s knelt on his other side and it makes him feel a bit better about the situation at hand.
“It's been...he hasn't had a seizure like this in six months.” Louis breathes out and looks away from Harry when a particular cry leaves his mouth. “Shh. It's okay sweetheart. It's going to be okay. Did he...he must have just fell down then right?”
Zayn nods. “He was acting odd, but then he. Uh. Pissed all over the front of himself and he couldn’t speak. Tried to ask him what was wrong but he wasn’t...I couldn’t make sense of what he was trying to say and then he just tensed and fell over.”
Liam and Niall are standing nearby, close enough to jump in and help if Louis needs it, but far enough so Louis won’t scream at them for being too close. “Can one of you...oh god, can someone see if they can find a blanket or a towel or something and someone else go see if any of the execs are nearby?”
And there isn’t any commotion from either of them, as if they both know who or what exactly they’re going to go search for. Liam will most likely go find a blanket and Niall will find one of their executives.
They'll take care of it. Louis has faith in them.
To his surprise, Niall comes back first. He didn’t have to go far to find anyone. Their executives are always close in case things like this happen. This hasn't happened before, not like this at least, but there’s always a first for everything. They seem to learn that time after time.
Louis’ shrugging his blazer off when the executives come to him. “Listen, I just need for everyone to get away from him. There’s too many people and if this seizure gets any worse he isn’t going to have any room with people closing in on us.” He speaks in a calm, oddly calm, voice and Katie does exactly as he asks, without hesitation. He faintly hears her voice demanding for people to move out of the way and telling the TV show producers that it’s off, One Direction are physically unable to do their performance tonight, and they need to either extend the commercial break or tell the audience that an accident happened.
She looks down at him after managing to clear the area. “Do you need medical?”
“No, not yet. I’ll tell you what I need if I need it.” Louis gets his blazer off and swathes it over Harry’s hips, which are still bucking up off of the floor, and he tries his hardest to keep it over the area that’s soaked with urine, holding his hand over Harry’s crotch. “I know, baby, I know. It’s okay. Sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m right here.”
He’s jerking against Louis’ hand, not just his hips, but his entire body. He moves in large convulsions, saliva pours out of him each time his body thrashes, and Louis has to glance away for a few seconds at a time. He thought they were in the clear. He didn’t realize Harry was going to have another seizure so soon. A year after the initial procedure and they're already back where they started.
Zayn swallows, his hands hesitate above Harry for the longest time, until he finally decides to take his head in his hands to steady him because the back of his scalp keeps slamming against the linoleum, again and again. “It’s alright H.” He whispers. “You’re alright. Keep your head just like this.”
There was one time that Harry had a seizure solo with Zayn, without Louis being there, and Zayn’s choices were either to step in or let him fucking hurt himself. He chose the option that felt right which was helping him through the fit.
Louis walked him through it over the phone, after an emergency phone call, and told him he had done good once Harry stopped shuddering and crying. It meant a lot to Zayn considering there was no way Louis was going to make it to them. He was back home in Doncaster whereas Harry had been at home, their home, in LA with Zayn who had just stopped by to check in since he also has a house there.
It was during the time when his seizures had started to happen more frequently and severely. Louis was just thankful that Zayn was there to help him.
Louis glances towards Zayn and nods. He doesn’t have to say anything for Zayn to know that he’s taking proper precautions.
Harry’s breath starts to come out in fast wheezes, chest heaving each time he exhales, and his neck arches involuntarily as if he’s trying to find oxygen. The whites of his eyes no longer shows, but there’s absolutely no focus when his irises and pupils come back. He’s cross-eyed and a squeal falls out from between his lips.
“Let him move his head Z. I think he may be coming out of it.” Louis leans forward and presses his palm to Harry’s cheek. “Keep trying for me love. I’m right here. You’re okay. Come back to me.”
Zayn slips his hands away from Harry’s head and that’s when Harry tries to move, but his body is still jerking and swaying. Every muscle tightens up when he attempts to sit up and he crashes back down to the floor, flat on his back.
“Should we make him stay still?” Zayn asks and Louis nods because Harry is just continuing to convulse and fall back and he’s only going to injure himself further.
The next time he tries to sit up, Louis places his hand in the center of his chest and holds him down. “H. Harry I need you to stop, okay? Can you relax for me? It’s Louis. it’s me, please settle down.” Harry is not having it. He starts screaming babbled words at Louis, pulling and slapping at his hand, but he isn’t very strong, or at least he isn’t strong enough to harm Louis, not right now.
“Shhh Harry. Quiet down for me.” Louis whispers, rubbing his palm over his chest in a gentle circular motion. Everyone who’s still in vicinity turns to look at them because of the shouting. “It’s okay gorgeous. Shhh. Stop shouting at me. It’s just me. I’m trying to help you, but I can’t help you if you shout and fight me.”
Harry arches his head to the side and his tongue slips out between his lips as he stares at Zayn. He’s still extremely disoriented and all Zayn can do is reassure him that he’s okay even if he doesn’t know who Zayn is. At this point, it isn’t even certain that Harry knows who Harry is.
Zayn touches his shoulder. “You’re okay. You’ve got to listen to Louis though. He’s going to help you out of this.”
But Harry won’t do as much as turn his head back over to look at Louis, he’s caught up on Zayn, even reaches out for him. Zayn lets him wrap his hand around his fingers, much like a child would do. He doesn’t say a word in protest.
Zayn tries to touch him, his cheek more exactly, but he starts shouting again and Zayn draws back. “Easy. I’m not trying to hurt you. It’s okay.”
“I need him to look at me Zayn. I need to be able tell if he needs medical help or not.” Louis explains with a tense voice.
“Louis, I can’t…” But he’s interrupted by something he’s never heard Louis do before when Harry's been in this state. Louis starts to sing. In the tiniest, softest voice he can the lyrics to Stand By Me pour out of his mouth and he runs his hand through Harry’s curls as he sings.
Somehow it catches Harry’s attention because his neck arches again and he’s staring at Louis with wide, awe struck eyes. Blood is seeping past his lips and down his chin, but Louis doesn’t hardly pay attention to it, not even when he gets Zayn’s handkerchief and wipes the liquid from his love’s mouth does he focus on anything other than singing to Harry.
The singing is what allows Louis to check his head for bumps and cuts and allows him to wipe the blood and saliva off his chin and cheeks. It calms Harry down instantly and once he begins calms down he gradually comes to, shaking the disorientation and sluggish eyes.
As soon as he begins to come to, realizing who both Louis and Zayn are, he starts crying, which is a usual post-seizure emotion for him. “L…” Harry cries. He can only get the beginning consonant of Louis’ name out, but Louis doesn't care. He’s just happy Harry’s okay.
“You don’t have to cry angel. You’re okay.” Louis leans down and kisses his forehead, pressing his lips there for quite awhile before he pulls away. “I’m right here, okay? You don’t have to be upset. It’s okay.” His fingers card through Harry’s hair while the other continues to wipe his mouth. With each cry that leaves his mouth, another spurt of blood infused saliva dribbles out of his mouth.
“Here comes Liam with that blanket.” Zayn points out and rises to his feet. “Do you need it still?”
“I’ve got to get him out of here without paparazzi and fans getting pictures of him and I need to cover his front. There’s no other option. Remember we decided that we didn’t want to have any clothing changes tonight?”
Zayn draws in a sharp breath. “Fuck. Yeah, I remember now. Bad decision." He goes to Liam and takes the blanket from him before dropping back down to kneel beside Harry. Liam and Niall slowly approach, only to back off after they see that Harry’s crying has involved into full body sobs, meaning his body is shaking with each cry.
Louis pulls him into a sitting position and he wraps his arms around Harry, tightly. “It’s okay love. Don’t cry, please don’t cry. You’re alright.” Harry buries his face against his neck and only continues to spew out loud cries against him.
Trying to calm him down, Louis rubs his back and presses his chin to the top of his head. “I’ve got you baby. I’m not going to let anything hurt you. I’m right here.”
Liam clears his throat. “The suggestion from management is we get out of here as soon as possible.”
“Harry just had a fucking seizure and they’re trying to kick us out of here already? Look at him. How do you suggest I get him out of here Liam?” Louis snaps, not having the time or patience for Liam’s antics.
“Stand him up, I guess, I don’t know.” Liam shrugs and slips behind Niall as if Louis’ going to get up and pound the shit out of him, which he may. He hasn’t decided.
Louis rolls his eyes, but listens to him. “I’m going to get you up love.” He whispers into Harry’s ear, but Harry definitely isn’t with it. He doesn’t acknowledge Louis at all.
“Do you need help?” Niall asks.
“Do you know how many times I’ve picked him off the floor? I’ve got him. It’s okay.” He shifts into a kneeling position, though it’s difficult because Harry is clinging onto him for dear life and won’t loosen his grip on the front of his shirt.
Louis somehow manages to stand up, but he does have to let go of Harry, but as soon as he does Harry’s back to laying on the ground. He needs to figure out how to get Harry up. His mind quickly shifts to all of those first aid classes he took when he first found out about Harry’s illness.
He has Zayn help Harry bend his knees and then Louis steps on his toes. He takes Harry’s wrists in his hands and pulls him forward.
It’s nearly impossible for him to get Harry to a position where his feet are at least firm on the ground, but he manages. In fact, he manages to get Harry standing but as soon as any of Harry’s weight relies on his own legs, they give out, and Louis has to hold him up. “Shit. He can’t walk.” Louis groans, tries to get a better grip on Harry, and succeeds, but barely. “I’m going to have to carry him.”
Zayn asks. “Can you?”
“I’ve carried him before. I’m sure I can still carry him now.” Louis cups Harry’s chin in his hand and tries to meet his eyes, but it’s no use. He’s there, but not entirely. “I’m going to carry you out to the car love. I don’t think you’ll be able to walk.” He slips one hand underneath Harry’s legs, hardly reacts when he feels the moisture leaking through the back of his pant legs, and his other hand hooks around his back.
He mentally counts to three and heaves all of Harry’s weight into his arms. A groan leaves his mouth and his legs nearly give out, but he’s able to catch himself. Just barely. “ Fuck. I’ve got you love. Are you with me?” And no, Harry isn’t with Louis, he isn’t all there, he doesn’t even try to secure himself with an arm wrapped around Louis’ shoulders. Instead, one arm limply hands to his side and his other laxly on his lap. His head lolls against Louis’ shoulder and a strangled laugh leaves him.
“You got him?” Liam asks.
“Yeah.” Louis nods. “Someone get security to bring a car around this back exit. Pictures of the two of us like this will sell for thousands and I can’t have pictures of Harry like this surfacing.”
Niall doesn’t hesitate. “I’m on it.” He walks away with his phone held to his ear.
“Do you still need the blanket?” Zayn asks.
“It’s just going to draw more attention. It’ll be fine, but I need to start walking or I’m going to drop him. We’ll talk later.” He hoists Harry up higher before he begins his slow walk down the corridor. People do turn to look at them, but Louis only ignores them, as does Harry, who probably doesn’t even realize.
They get to the backdoor which is surprisingly a shorter distance then he reckoned. A small woman with a tech piece in her ear holds the door open for them. Louis mumbles a thank you and slips out into the nipping night air.
It’s the moment he steps out of the stadium that he sees headlights and a car pull along the curb. Alberto steps out of the driver’s seat and rounds the front to help Louis get Harry into the backseat.
“Christ. What happened?” Alberto asks, holding the door open for them.
“He had a really bad seizure.” Louis says and that’s all he says until he gets Harry into the car. He buckles him in before he shuts the door and walks around to the other side with Alberto. “It was awful. He hasn’t had one in so long and I just want to go home. Can we go home?”
“Of course.” Alberto squeezes his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Louis opens the back door and pauses for only a second once Alberto asks him such a simple, yet complicated question. In theory he’s okay, but not right now. He doesn’t ever know how to deal with seeing Harry seize. It’s scary and even though he’s seen it so many times, it still evokes some kind of unknown emotion out of him. “I’m fine. Just tired.” He slides into the car and slams the door shut without another word.
It’s about halfway through the car ride, about half an hour has passed, when Harry finally comes around to the point where he starts calling for Louis. “Louis? God...shit. Louis?” He brings a hand up to rub his forehead. His head is pulsating. Something must have happened, but he isn’t sure what it could’ve been.
“Oh thank fuck,” Louis whispers and touches Harry’s cheek. “Right here love. Right beside you. You had a seizure a little while ago, you were really out of it. I’m glad you're okay now.”
Harry feels like he’s going to be sick with that revelation. “I. Um. I had a seizure? I haven’t had a seizure in a year. Where were we?”
Six months actually, Louis wants to correct, but chooses not to. “You mean you don’t...oh. Uh. That award show was tonight H.” He says, softly, brushing the pad of his thumb over Harry’s cheekbone.
“Did I...I didn’t on stage right?” The color flushes from his face then and suddenly he feels like he can’t breathe. “Louis I didn’t on stage did I?”
“No sweetheart. Backstage, right before we went on, you were lucky this time.” Louis explains.
“I don’t know if I would consider that lucky.” Harry mutters, glancing out the window, but his head quickly whirls around to look at Louis again when he hears the click of his seat belt being undone. “What are - “
“Lay your head on my lap and go to sleep.” Louis directs. “You need to sleep.” He doesn’t get a choice. Louis grabs his hand and pulls him closer.
Harry slowly lays down on Louis’s lap, curling in on himself to conserve room in the backseat, but Louis doesn’t mind having only a little room. He guides his fingers through Harry’s hair, scratching at his scalp. “I love you.” He whispers.
“I love you too Louis. Thank you for always taking care of me.” He says and it isn’t a few minutes later that he’s asleep on Louis’ lap. His face is buried against Louis’ thigh and Louis moves his hand from Harry’s hair and slowly rubs up and down Harry’s side.
They get home that night, after driving through London with the windows down, and Louis helps Harry to bed. Sleeping beside him makes his heart pound in his chest and he’s left wondering time and time again how Harry Styles does it.
He manages to steal his heart every day, over and over again, and it isn’t even worth fighting for. Louis is happy that Harry is the one he’s ended up with.