Work Text:
Growing up as the only girl with five older brothers had definitely shaped you. You were strong, tough, sure of yourself. You didn’t put up with any nonsense. You never showed fear, or pain, or weakness.
All of your brothers were athletic, and you’d spent so much time watching different sporting events. And while you played a number of sports as well, you didn’t excel the same way they did. So you decided to follow a different path.
That path led you to audition for the X Factor. You had big dreams of becoming a famous singer and getting away from the shadow of your brothers.
And then ironically, you’d somehow been put in a band with five older boys. Well, you were only a couple months younger than Harry, but still. You couldn’t believe your luck. It was somehow good, since you hadn’t been turned away, and simultaneously bad, since you once again had to find a way to stand out from a group of boys.
But you quickly learned that Niall, Liam, Harry, Zayn, and Louis were nothing like your brothers. Sure they were energetic and crazy like them, but they were so different when it came to you. Instead of teasing you and ignoring you because you were young, or because you were a girl, they would support you, compliment you, protect you.
It was nice, but also a little strange. You didn’t know how to accept all of this, so you put up a wall. While you were friends with the others, you kept a bit of distance. They had a way of trying to almost coddle you, and you refused to let that happen. You were just as strong and confident as them. You didn’t need any special treatment.
This is how it started, and how it stayed. You’re now three years into being One Direction, and the boys have learned how to behave around you. Group hugs and high fives are allowed, but other than that, they didn’t enter your personal space. They’d give you compliments but make sure not to go over the top. And even though their instincts had them anxious to protect you when out in public, to put a barrier between you and the paps or the fans, they knew better, and allowed you to walk solo just like they did.
It made you feel respected, knowing that they were listening to your boundaries even when it felt wrong to them. And you knew that if you let them get closer or treat you differently than they treated each other, you’d be seen as weaker by the public. So keeping up these walls was necessary for your success.
But on late, lonely travel nights, you find yourself wishing you could let them in. Sometimes you do feel weak, or tired, or not good enough. And you wish you could go to them for comfort. On a number of occasions you almost do, but then they make some comment about how well you handle everything and how they wish they could be strong like you, and you hold back once again.
That is, until the six of you find yourselves in a situation that pushes you towards your breaking point.
You’re halfway through a leg of tour when some sort of illness travels through your crew. Somehow none of the onstage performers get it, and it seems to be hitting your security team the hardest. On this night in particular, every normal security guard calls out sick and you end up with a group of complete strangers.
It’s weird, but none of you question it, as it seems like the only option at this point. And when the show ends and you’re loading into the van, you’re all too tired to worry about it anyway. You figure they must be safe if management hired them to protect their biggest source of income.
You're in the middle of the back row, squished between Liam and Niall. Your eyes are heavy, and the motion of the car is soothing, nearly putting you to sleep.
But then Liam turns and asks, “Does this look at all like the way we came?”
You shrug and say, “I haven’t been paying attention,” and Niall adds, “It’s dark, how are you seeing anything out there?”
“I can see enough to know I’ve never seen this before,” Liam responds.
“Maybe it’s just a different route,” you say.
“Could be,” he concedes. It’s quiet again in the car, but as the drive goes on you can sense Liam’s growing agitation.
“It shouldn’t be taking this long,” he suddenly says into the quiet van. His anxiety is rubbing off on you and you lean over him to look out the window. You still can’t see much.
But looking inside the vehicle you begin to notice something. The six security guards all look agitated by the conversation. You start to think that maybe something is wrong, that these strangers may be up to something.
And sure enough, after another minute they turn down a road and begin to floor it. There’s commotion, all of you shouting out to slow down, but then one of the men turns around and holds out a gun.
“You belong to us now. Shut up, and sit still. When we get to the house you’ll calmly walk inside. Put up a fight and we'll shoot. We have more people waiting at the house, all armed, so we have the upper hand. Got it?”
All six of you manage to nod, though you’re all practically frozen from fear. Niall and Liam each move to grab your hands, and normally you’d shift away, but you can tell they need this more than you do right now.
The car jolts to a stop, causing you all to slam into the seats in front of you, and you’re all a bit disoriented as you’re taken from the van to the basement of a large house.
It’s straight out of a thriller movie. Concrete floor and walls illuminated by a single hanging light bulb. Dirty mattress in the corner. Various scary looking objects that you don’t want to know the uses of.
“This is where we have fun,” says one of the men. There are twelve in total. And as promised, each of them carries at least one weapon.
“You’ll stay in there,” says another man as he opens a door in the corner of the room. The six of you are pushed inside of a small, carpeted but otherwise bare room, barely big enough for all of you to be able to lay down at once. There’s another door off this room that leads to a bathroom. It’s dirty and smelly but at least you’ll have a private place to pee.
One thing that’s clear, there’s no way out.
“You’ll stay in here until we come for you. Oh, and if any of you does any funny business, steps a toe out of line or fights back, she gets it,” says one of the men emphatically as he points at you with his gun.
The message is clear. And smart. Your band members will do anything to protect you. There’s no way they’ll do something that will put you in danger. Just like that, these kidnappers have prevented any pushback from your group. Not that there seems to be anything you all can do, being outnumbered and unarmed.
It’s truly a nightmare of a situation. And somehow it’s happening to you.
“We’ll be back soon,” he says before closing and locking the door.
The six of you stand there for a moment, utterly baffled and terrified.
“You okay?” Zayn says, and you look up to see him turned towards you.
Repressing an eye roll you respond, “Of course not. None of us are. We literally got kidnapped and taken to a friggen house of horrors.”
“Yea, but he didn’t threaten any of our lives,” Louis adds.
“Pretty sure all of our lives are in danger,” you reply. “We’re being held captive by psychopaths. I don’t think any of us are safe.”
You sit on the floor, tucking your head between your knees. The others follow, and the six of you sit in silence, all trying to think of a way out of this mess.
Being left there alone is unnerving, but what’s even worse is when one of the men comes back. He scans the room as all of you silently and fearfully watch him.
“You,” he finally says, pointing to Niall. “You’re up first.” The man leans down, grabbing Niall and roughly pulling him up. Before anyone can even react, Niall is thrown into the other part of the basement and the door is shut and locked once more.
While the door muffles the sound, you can all still hear the noises of impacts followed by Niall’s cries of pain. Your imagination runs wild with images of what they might be doing to him.
After a few minutes the door opens and Niall is shoved back inside before two men grab Zayn. They bring him out, and once again the rest of you are forced to listen as they hurt your friend. Meanwhile Liam checks Niall and comforts him.
The pattern continues, and each time one of the guys is returned, another is taken. Louis is the last of the boys, and you know it’s your turn next.
But then Louis is pushed back in, and the man closes and locks it. You’re confused, unsure why they didn’t take you.
The boys are hurt, but nothing too bad. A couple bruises, a few small scratches, but it could’ve been worse.
Just when you think you might get away unharmed, the door opens again. “Your turn,” says the man as he looks at you, a disturbing smile on his face.
You see the boys move to block you but you subtly shake your head and stand up and walk towards the door, accepting your fate.
“Good girl,” he says, causing you to shiver in disgust. Once out of the small room, you’re thrown to the concrete floor and all twelve men surround you.
There’s a kick to your back and it knocks the air out of you. And you gasp for breath, another kick lands on your stomach. You’re pulled up, held in the air by two men as others take their turns hitting you.
Suddenly they stop, the men dropping you and you land harshly on the floor. Finally you can catch your breath, but you warily watch the men, waiting for another blow.
It doesn’t come. Instead, the man in charge crouches in front of you, causing you to recoil, but he grabs you by the hair to keep your face close to his.
“You’re the one we want,” he says. You stare at him in confusion. “We didn’t want the boys. But it was impossible to get you alone. Oddly enough it was easier to take all of you. But just know, they are in this mess because of you. So you’d better behave.”
With that he lifts you up and pushes you back into the small room. Immediately after the door closes, the boys surround you, trying to ask if you’re okay, but you put up your hands, alerting them not to touch you. They give you space and you tell them you’re fine, and while they know that’s not true, they also know not to press you to talk.
You sit in a corner of the room holding your head in your hands. You hear the others talk but your mind is too busy to listen to them.
After some time they all lay down to sleep, but guilt keeps you awake. You notice the way they’re all comforting each other, even as they sleep. Liam and Harry are laying together while Louis is holding both Zayn and Niall.
You wish you could curl up with them, get comfort from them, but that would be selfish.
They’re in this mess because of you. They’re hurting and it’s all your fault. So no, you don’t deserve to be held. You deserve to suffer.
Eventually you fall asleep only to be woken a couple hours later by the door slamming open. Water bottles and granola bars are tossed in the room and the door shuts once more.
“Guess breakfast is here,” Louis says. It’s not much, but at least you won’t starve or dehydrate.
All six of you eat in silence, and as soon as you’re done the door opens. Liam is taken first this time, and the pattern from last night continues. You’re all taken three times throughout the day, after every meager meal that you’re given.
You’re always last. The order of the boys switches up, seems random. But you’re always saved to be the final person. After lunch you’re told it’s so that you can see the pain your bandmates are experiencing because of you.
It keeps you docile, willing to take whatever beating they give you.
Which is more than they give the boys. You’ve noticed that when the others come back they only have one or two new injuries each time. Just enough to keep them in line. They boys have also mentioned it’s only two guys there each time they’re taken.
For you, it’s always the full dozen. And they all take turns. It feels like every inch of your body is covered in bruises.
But you make sure not to let the boys see. They tend to one another, make sure they’re all eating, and hold each other whenever someone needs comfort.
As you’re reminded each time the men have you in their grasp, you don’t deserve that comfort. The pain your friends are feeling is your fault.
The men never explain why they want you, just that they need to have you. It had been their goal for years, getting you in their grasp.
Another fitful night of sleep passes followed by another nightmare and pain filled day. There is however an obvious shift on that second full day. While you’re all once again taken three times, the boys are brought back after only a few minutes. Their time with the men dwindles, and yours gets longer.
That evening they take you for nearly two full hours. You know what they want. They’re searching for your breaking point. You refuse to let them find it. They give up out of sheer frustration and throw you back in the room.
No matter what you’d experienced the last few days, you always landed on your feet.
Until now.
You stumble, falling into Zayn. He catches you and gently lays you on the ground. He goes to pull away, knowing you don’t like to be touched, but you grip his shirt in your fists.
Zayn looks at you questioningly and you murmur, “Stay. Don’t let me go.”
“I won’t, I’ve got you,” he replies. He turns to Liam next to him and says, “Help me get her settled. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Of course, what do you need?” Liam says, altering you to his presence beside you. One of your hands releases Zayn and instead reaches out for Liam.
“Do you want us to lay down with you?” Liam asks.
A weak nod is all you can manage, but it’s enough. Zayn settles on one side of you with Liam on the other.
Louis kneels by your head, and you look at his upside down face hovering above you. “Can we check your injuries, love? Please?”
You can hear the concern in his voice so you nod once more. Giving them permission to see the extent of the beatings you’ve taken is the last thing you want to do.
But you’re exhausted. And scared. And in so much pain.
It’s time to take the wall down. It’s time to let them in, let them take care of you.
Louis starts with what’s visible on your face. There isn’t much there, but he wipes away the bit of blood on your cheek.
“Can Harry lift your shirt to check your belly?” Louis asks and you nod again.
You hear a chorus of gasps as your shirt is moved. You don’t need to look to know it’s not a pretty sight.
“This isn’t good,” Harry says quietly. His hand brushes one of the bruises and you cry out in pain.
“Sorry, I’m sorry. Y/N, this is bad. Like, I think you have internal injuries,” Harry states.
“Who made you a doctor?” You quip weakly.
“Don’t need to be one to know a serious injury,” Niall says. “What have they done to you?” His voice is laced with horror and sadness, and you start to zone out. You know you’ve taken a beating, can feel it all over. But hearing the boy's reactions to it is even worse. Makes it more real.
Harry and Niall continue to check your body, wiping any blood they see and pressing cool water bottles to some of the worst bruises. But you don’t react anymore, choosing instead to turn your head and tuck into Liam.
Louis pets through your hair gently and Zayn holds your hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. You focus on these touches and drift off to sleep.
You startle awake the next morning, and the first thing you notice is that you’re surrounded by the boys. It makes you feel warm, safe.
And then you realize who else is in the room.
“This looks cozy,” says the man. You still don’t know their names, but you do know their temperaments. This one doesn’t hit as hard physically, but he knows how to attack you emotionally. “So sweet of them to comfort you, Y/N. Especially considering why you’re all here.”
It’s a brutal reminder, one the others don’t understand but you do. The guilt sets back in, and you do your best to move away from the boys. You don’t deserve to be taken care of, and last night's moment of weakness can’t happen again.
“Actually, why don’t we have a little chat, make sure you remember the details of the situation,” he adds.
“Y/N, what is he talking about?” Liam asks, but you play dumb, giving a confused shrug in reply.
“Good act,” the man says. “Let’s go,” he adds as he moves in to grab you. The boys move to block him, but you go around them. Maybe letting the men hurt you will ease the guilt of putting your friends in this situation. You feel even worse after showing such weakness last night.
So you follow the man, bracing yourself for the hours of pain you’re about to endure.
But what happens next is worse than you can imagine. There’s no pain, they don’t hit or punch or kick this time. They don’t even throw you to the ground like usual. They’re gentle. Sure, it’s not painful. But the feeling of their hands dragging along every part of your body practically burns you. Makes you want to vomit, right on them. If you do, maybe they’ll stop. Maybe they won’t keep touching you in places no one should be.
Before you can do that, they all back away. “We’re thinking of letting the others go,” one of the men says. It takes you a minute to comprehend that he’s talking, and when you finally understand, you look at him in confusion. “That got your attention huh?”
“What are you talking about?” you ask.
“We really only wanted you, remember? We have another house. We’ll be taking you there tonight. The other five will be left behind. We’ll send a message to your security tomorrow so they can come rescue them. You will be long gone when that happens. Isn’t that nice, though? Your friends will be okay. You should be happy, they’re in this mess because of you. And now they’ll be free. Don’t you want that?”
Knowing they want an answer, you nod curtly. And you do want the boys to be free, to be safe. But they’ve been a comfort to you these past days, and the selfish part of you wants them to stay. You can endure what these horrible men throw at you because you have a safe place to return to, even if it is a tiny, gross room. At least you have friends with you.
But you can’t think like that. If they have a way out, of course they need to take it. Even if it means you’ll never get away. That these horrible people will be able to continue doing whatever they want to you. That will be your punishment for endangering your friends.
“Enjoy the day with them,” says the man as he begins leading you back to the room. “It’s the last time you’ll ever see them.” With that he opens the door and guides you inside before leaving you alone with the others.
They’re quickly at your side, obviously wanting to comfort you like they had the night before, but you hold out your hands, indicating you want space.
“Y/N,” Niall starts, “Please let us help with your new injuries.”
“I don’t have any,” you reply.
“What do you mean?” Harry asks.
“They didn’t touch you this time?” Louis says next.
“I didn’t say that,” you state sardonically.
“I don’t understand,” Zayn adds.
It’s quiet for a moment as you take a deep breath. Finally you look up, your eyes meeting Liam’s. It’s clear the second he understands what happens, his gentle, worried expression shifting to anger.
“I’m going to fucking kill them,” he exclaims, startling all of you.
“What the fuck just happened?” Niall asks.
“They touched her,” Liam says, his voice practically a growl. This time the rest do understand, horror, anger, and pity on their faces. Harry and Zayn move closer, obviously wanting to comfort you, but you cannot have that right now. “Please, don’t,” you say and they all step back further, giving you space.
Louis grows more agitated, walking to the door and saying, “Liam has the right idea, they can’t fucking get away with this.” He grabs the door handle forcefully, fully expecting it to be locked like normal, and gets thrown back when it simply opens.
The six of you stand there, shocked and confused, and Louis slowly and carefully closes the door again.
“The moron forgot to lock it?” Niall asks.
“Seems so,” Liam replies.
“Was anyone out there?” Harry asks.
Louis silently peeks out again, confirming the basement is in fact empty.
“There’s a window,” Liam says. “They opened it one time when I was with them. Guys, it’s a way out.”
“And then what?” Zayn asks.
“Then we fucking run for our lives, that’s what,” Louis says.
“They have guns, Lou. What if they’re out there waiting for us?” Harry adds.
“At this point we have to take the risk. We’ve been here for days. What if they never let us go? What if no one finds us? We have no other way out,” Louis answers.
“Yes you do,” you interject.
They all look at you questioningly. You take a deep breath, knowing you need to tell them the truth. That way they won’t risk their lives on this insane break out plan. “It’s my fault you’re all here. They didn’t want you. Just me. But they couldn’t get me alone so they took all of us. Tonight they’re taking me to another location, and tomorrow they’ll tell security where you are and you’ll be rescued. You have a way out, please don’t get hurt now.”
There’s another moment of silence while they process this information.
“Right, okay, we’re going. Now.” Harry says.
“Didn’t you hear me? You’ll be safe!”
“Do you think we can just leave you with them?” Liam asks. “No way. We’re all going or no one is.”
“We’re not leaving you behind. That’s insane,” Niall says.
“Please don’t be stupid,” you implore them.
“You’re the stupid one if you think we’d go without you,” Louis retorts.
“This is my fault-”
Zayn cuts you off saying, “Y/N, this is not your fault. I don’t know what those awful people told you, but they are the only ones to blame. You did not do this to us.”
“But they-”
Liam is the one to interject this time, “They are terrible people who do terrible things. For all you know they’re lying to you to manipulate you. They could be lying about letting us go.”
You hadn’t thought of that. When you don’t speak right away Louis takes his chance to explain what little plan he has.
“We just have to run for it. The window is pretty high. Liam you go first, then Zayn. Harry and I will help Y/N. Harry, you're tallest, you’ll be able to reach the best so you’ll go last. Once we’re free, run. We need to find a person or a house where we can call for help. Everyone got it?”
The rest of you nod. Louis peeks out one more time to make sure the coast is clear, then you all spring into action. The first step of the plan goes shockingly well. You’re all full of adrenaline, and getting through the window without a problem fills you with hope.
After a few minutes of running you start thinking you might actually be in the clear.
The adrenaline wears off.
And the full pain of your injuries comes back.
Running becomes harder, every inhale burning not only your lungs but your whole torso. There’s blood soaking your clothes, and you have no idea if you’ve exacerbated a previous injury or gotten a new one.
You gasp, stumbling and nearly falling to the ground. Liam catches you, encouraging you to keep going, but it’s like your brain and body are no longer connected. As much as you try, you can’t keep going.
Liam senses this and puts his arm around you, helping you stay upright and continue moving forward.
There’s a house up ahead, the obvious destination. You’re close, and then you hear the noise behind you.
The van that you’d been in when this all started is barreling towards your group. They’ve nearly caught up, and you feel like just giving in, admitting defeat.
But Liam won’t let you. “Everyone just keep going!” He yells.
A figure runs out of the house up ahead, followed by at least 20 others. All in uniform. All armed.
You’re scared at first, not knowing if they’re there to help you or help your captors. And then you see him. Paul Higgins. Your true guardian angel.
The van has stopped following, now surrounded by law enforcement, but the six of you can’t stop. Can’t understand that the danger is gone.
Paul, along with a few other members of your normal security team surround you to check if you’re okay. The boys assure them that they only have minor injuries, all saying the same thing: “Help Y/N,” “Y/N’s hurt”, “Y/N needs help”.
The next thing you know, Paul is reaching for you, picking you up and cradling you to him. “You’re safe now,” he says quietly, and you start to believe that.
He carries you towards the house, explaining that they’d gotten a tip the night before and were searching the area, the homeowner allowing them to use the place as a base of operations.
You hear sirens growing louder, and multiple ambulances pull up. Seeing this, Niall says “Paul really, we’re okay. They really only focused on Y/N. We’ve just got some scrapes.”
“You’ll all be going to the hospital and getting checked by a doctor. No exceptions.”
“Yes, dad,” Louis says, but it doesn’t have the normal teasing tone. At this moment, you’re all very grateful for this man you call your tour dad.
When Paul goes to set you down on a stretcher you begin to panic, clutching his shirt the way you had with Zayn the night before.
“I’m not leaving you, I promise. But you have to let them take care of you so you can get better,” he says.
It’s hard to let go but you do manage. As promised Paul stays by your side the whole time. The ambulance ride feels forever, and the longer you lay unmoving, the more pain you feel.
You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel Paul gently wipe tears off your face. You turn to look at him and he gives you a sad smile, saying “I know sweetheart. It’s all over now. I’ve got you.”
He’s able to hold your hand, and he gives you a reassuring squeeze. It’s the last thing you’re aware of before your world turns black.
The first time you wake up, there’s chaos around you. Doctors yelling about internal injuries and needing scans, nurses hooking you up to different wires and tubes. A doctor gives another order, and something is pushed through your IV, and once again everything fades away.
The next time you wake is much calmer. You’re in a patient room, your body wrapped in gauze. Paul is sitting beside your bed, once again holding your hand. This time you squeeze his, and he looks up, clearly relieved to see your eyes open.
He tells you about your injuries, the treatments and surgery you went through, and how you’ll be in the hospital for a few days before needing to recover at home for weeks.
“What about the boys?” is your first question.
“They’re okay. Minor injuries. Doctors are keeping them overnight to be safe but they should all be released tomorrow,” Paul answers.
“Good. I’m glad they weren’t hurt.”
“Louis told me you think this is your fault.”
“It is. They were all taken because of me.”
“Sweetheart, you need to know that’s not the truth. We found a letter from them, after they took you all, and it was clear they always planned to take the whole band. You are not to blame. You didn’t do anything or make anything happen.”
“It’s not my fault?” You ask.
“It is not your fault,” he says, his voice strong and sure.
“It’s not my fault,” you say.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he answers as he strokes the hair out of your face.
A moment later a few nurses and doctors enter. They tell you the injuries you sustained and what they’re doing to treat them. They ask questions that you do your best to answer. Finally they finish taking vitals and leave once more. You’re grateful, as you’ve started to feel tired again.
“Sleep, I’ll be here all night,” Paul says. With that reassurance, you close your eyes and immediately fall asleep.
The next time you wake up the clock on your table reads 7:12am. You’d slept almost ten full hours. As promised Paul is there, sleeping uncomfortably on the couch.
There’s a nurse in the room, and she smiles when she sees you watching her.
“Good morning, I’m just going to take your vitals,” she says. When she finishes that she and another nurse help you to the restroom, and you're glad your injuries haven’t completely bedridden you. You’re given a light breakfast, and while you don’t have the biggest appetite, you do enjoy a little hot food after days of nothing but granola bars.
After you’ve eaten, the doctor comes to check on you, making sure you’re doing well and changing some of the bandages.
You’ve been awake a couple hours when Paul gets an update.
“Louis and Zayn are getting discharged now,” he says.
“What about the others?”
“Should be later today. Apparently their doc was called away before he could get to everyone so they need to wait a bit.”
“Are Louis and Zayn leaving?”
“We’re figuring that out.”
“Can I see them?”
“I think I can make that happen. Are you alright here for a few minutes if I go help the boys?”
While you don’t want him to leave, you know the others need him as well so you say, “Yea, I’ll be okay. I’m kind of tired again, can I sleep?”
“Of course you can, darling. Get your rest, it’ll help you heal. I promise I won’t be far, and Ryan is right outside if you need anyone.”
You do feel better knowing Ryan is there, since he’s basically Paul’s second in command.
Without realizing you’ve even fallen asleep the next thing you’re aware of is voices around you.
“She’s really going to be okay?” You hear Zayn ask worriedly.
“She’s going to be fine. It’ll take some time for her to heal but she’ll make a full recovery,” Paul explains.
“You’re sure?” Niall asks, his voice unsteady.
“I’m sure. The doctors said she’ll be okay. And you know her, she’s strong.”
Strong. The word most used to describe you. But you don’t feel that way right now. You were hurt, bruised and bloodied. You don’t want to be strong anymore.
“Can I be done?” You ask.
They boys all turn to you, gathering by your bedside now that you’ve woken up.
“What was that? We didn’t hear what you said,” Liam asks.
“I want to be done,” you reply.
“Done with what, love?” Louis questions.
“Being strong. I don’t wanna be strong right now.”
“That’s okay,” Louis answers. “You don’t have to be. Lean on us.”
“Yea, we’ll take care of you!” Niall adds.
“Thank you. I’m just so tired.”
“I know. You’ve fought hard, now you can rest,” Zayn says.
You smile softly at them, and then realize someone’s missing.
“Where’s Harry?” You ask, your voice laced with panic as your heart rate skyrockets.
“He’s okay!” Louis quickly assures you. “He just needed one extra test before they could discharge him.”
“Why? What was the test?”
Liam answers this time, explaining, “His oxygen was a bit low when they brought us in yesterday so they’re making sure everything’s fine. Which it is. It was just low because of his asthma and all the running we did. He’s fine. He’ll be here soon.”
As though being summoned, Harry walks in a moment later.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, rushing to your side when he sees how upset you are.
You take a deep breath, relieved to have all five of your boys with you.
“Don’t leave me. Please,” you beg.
“We won’t,” Harry replies. “We’re all here. We’re all sticking together. We promise. Right?”
The others all nod, Harry and Niall each holding your hands to reassure you with comforting contact.
For the rest of your hospital stay, they keep their promise to the best of their ability. None of them are allowed to stay overnight, but all five of them are there with you during every minute that visitors are welcomed.
When you’re finally discharged, you go to the house the boys have been staying at. Of course their families all wanted them to go back to their respective homes, but they couldn’t bear to be away from you.
Your parents also hoped you’d be coming home while you recovered, but it would feel strange to go back there. You’re not the same person you were the last time you left. You just can’t go back just yet, not when so much has changed.
So the six of you, along with Paul and a few other security guards, all live together for the months following the incident. You’re given your own room, but you rarely spend a night alone. At first someone was staying with you in case you needed help at night while you continued to recover from your physical injuries.
They kept taking turns staying with you when it became clear your nightmares wouldn’t go away. The couple of nights that you did spend by yourself you’d woken up screaming and crying, calling out for the boys, panicking that they were gone.
From then on they had a rotation on who would stay with you. Having one of them in your bed often kept the bad dreams away, and when the nightmares did happen, whoever was there could quickly calm and reassure you that everything was okay.
After seven months of recovery and planning, it’s finally time to restart tour. Your emotions are going wild leading up to that first show, but the second you get on stage, you feel alive again. For months you hid away, leaning on your bandmates and truly feeling like a diminished version of yourself.
You’d needed that in order to heal. Letting yourself be vulnerable allowed for others to help build you back up.
And now you feel like yourself again. You know this experience will stick with you forever, and you’ll be dealing with the mental impacts of this for years to come. But you also know that Harry, Liam, Niall, Louis, and Zayn will always be there for you whenever you need them.
You turn towards them at the end of the show, right before final bows, and find them all watching you, their faces full of admiration, awe, and love.