Sara's POV;

"Please," Paul called over the hoard of people rushing the hall in desperate attempt to get a shot of Harry, "Could you please just back away and we'll give statements." Paul pressed himself into the group, trying everything in his power to force them back but they didn't budge. I felt Louis's hand tighten on mine and when I glanced up at him through tear tainted eyes I could see that the vein was pulsing against his skin, protruding from his neck; he was angry. I squeezed his hand lightly and his eyes flickered from the crowd down to me for a moment. In that short span of time, I saw all of his emotions. He honestly wore his heart on his sleeve, people were just too ignorant to realize it because he tried desperately to hide it with his happy-go-lucky attitude. He's not always happy, he gets depressed, and this was one of those times. If anyone expected a happy response from any of us they wouldn't get it. Yes, we were all very grateful that Harry was awake, but we still had to keep in mind that G was doing the limbo between life and death, and that certainly weighed down a lot of the happiness.

"Do you understand what privacy is," he shouted, leaving go of my hand and Zayn's as he stepped forward towards the crowd whose tone was starting to hush. They scribbled away on their notepads, there was no doubt in my mind that they were writing down complete bullshit that would make Louis out to be some sort of maniacal tyrant, but at this point, he could get there. He was close enough to the edge, his best friend in such a fragile condition, and this could be that final little shove he needed to go over, plummeting to rock bottom with no one but an injured Tara to pick up the pieces. I stepped forward to retake his hand, pull him back to the group, back to the only thing keeping him sane but Niall jerked me back, shaking his head no slightly when I turned to him in surprise. I sunk into his side, bracing myself for what could happen right now. It was in that moment that it was like the world froze, like I was watching the scene from a different perspective. My eyes scanned the crowd, none of them familiar faces, but then I landed on one, and my gaze locked on him. I didn't want to take my eyes off of him, but I took the risk to steal a glance at the medical room, a slight sigh inwardly escaped when I saw the curtain had been drawn and you could not see into it. Now my brain snapped back to the issue at hand, and without much difficulty my eyes found him again. It was easy, because he wanted to be seen, and I knew this due to the wicked grin that grew on his face slowly as his eyes flittered past mine. My stomach heaved, and I felt like I would be sick right there just at the sight of him. I could feel my temper building, and no matter how hard I tried to contain it, it was growing and growing like a balloon about ready to pop. Niall whispered something in my ear, but I didn't hear him. My ears rang solely with the echo of my heart thudding anxiously against my rib cage, the stress of this sudden situation sending my body into over drive. I attempted to suck in a deep breath, to calm myself, but my eyes stayed locked on him, his on me.

"Hello," he mouthed, his lips curving into a sly smirk and he lifted his arm to wave to me. That was it, that was the plug being pulled on this grenade. I yanked my hand from Niall, tearing through the mob of people who literally parted for me as if I were the queen. Flashes bounced off the walls and every surface as I closed in on him screaming. Louis stumbled back, flustered, but there was a slight look of pride on his face.

"You filthy piece of shit," I screamed, I didn't care about anything other than getting him out of here. "You have no right to be here, get out." He grinned at me again, mockingly.

"I'm pretty sure that a hospital is a public place Sara dear, I can be here if I want," he chirped, poking the tip of my nose and I shoved his hand off me, recoiling at his touch.

"Daniel, just get the fuck out. You're not wanted, nor needed, and I know you're only here to make this worse than they already are—if that's possible. G isn't even awake so you can take your sorry ass out of here before I escort you out personally. I'll even give you a lift, how about that." He cocked an eyebrow, humoring me, sarcasm in his eyes.

"I'll shove my foot so far up your Goddamn ass and kick you home faster than the bus would get you there. I said leave, now do it." His eyes danced, amused and he chuckled.

"You haven't changed much, now have you," he laughed.

"How are you even here," I gaped, this thought finally dawning on me. His eyes grew suddenly dark, sinister and I fought the urge to back down, fear icing over a bit of the confidence I'd been riding on.

"I told you I'd never give her up, no matter what," he hissed, stepping close and ducking his head down into my face, "She's mine." I drew back in anger, then did something even I had never thought of doing. I spit right in his face, showing clear and utter distaste as I moved away from him. He wiped the spit from his face, eyeing me angrily.

"She is a person, not an item, you don't own her, and you never will again. She's moved on, to much better things. Go back to the sewer you filthy rat and pick up some piece of shit trash to fuck around with because G doesn't need you and never will," now I spat at him verbally, enunciating every syllable to get my message across loud and clear. The whole time the crowd remained silent, hushed whispers traveling throughout as I stood up to my honest to God worst nightmare. Before I could react to his motions, his hand came down hard across my cheek and I yelped in pain, the sensation like a million different needles breaking the skin at once. A gasp echoed through the crowd, followed by a split second of silence in which you could've heard a pin drop. Everything happened so fast, it was as if we went from slow motion to fast forward then someone hit the reverse button again, slowing things down once more as Niall collided with Daniel, taking him down with a swift tackle in the gut. They both landed with a thud on the linoleum floor, Niall quickly recovering and pinning him down so he couldn't move.

"Look at me right now and understand this," he breathed angrily, the Irish temper finally showing itself, "Lay a hand on her, and you'll get your ass beat. Lay a hand on G, you'll get your ass beat. Lay a hand on one of my boys, you'll get your ass beat. No matter what you fucking do, you get your scummy ass beat. Got it." Daniel's eyes refocused, pain evident on his face, but Niall held no sympathy, no pity, only anger. "So, I advise you get your ass the fuck out of here before I escort you, on a gurney, to the morgue." Zayn brushed my shoulder softly as he scurried around me to yank Niall off of him and pull him to the ground. I was in a daze, but not too far gone to notice Niall's last ditch effort to get Daniel back for everything: a nice heel right in the family jewels. Niall shrugged out of Zayn's grasp with a huff, and joined me again, shielded by the others as we spoke quietly.

"You're okay," he breathed heavily, wiping a dribble of sweat off of his forehead and I nodded, my hand still protectively on my face to try to numb the pain which was not subsiding. He took my hand and pulled it down from my face, his face falling when he saw that it was in fact marked quite badly. He lightly ran his own fingers over it, then kissed it softly. "I'm sorry for going crazy," he muttered, "but I couldn't let the bastard get away." I nodded, wiping my eyes as Paul approached us, shaking his head slightly.

"They want statements, or they won't leave," he ran a hand down his face, fatigued by stress, "Actually, I don't think they'll ever leave until they're forced." He shook his head, walking off toward Louis who was sitting in a hard metal chair, head in his hands, his shoulders shaking softly as he cried.

"Babe," Niall whispered, bringing my attention back to him, "We can do this. They can do this. Everything will turn up just fine soon."

Louis's POV;

I watched Niall take down Daniel, but it didn't really hit me, my mind was numb, broken down by too much stress. The room started to spin slightly, all the people, flashes and microphones blurring into one masterpiece of colors as I stumbled towards a chair that sat against the wall. I shouldn't be upset right now, I should be ecstatic; Harry was alive. That's what everyone was saying, yeah, but I knew damn well that until G woke up Harry wouldn't live. He'd be in that hotel room every day, crying, hurting, and wishing it'd been him that was in that bed. I knew Harry like no one else, and I knew that this was far from over. Yes, he was awake, but as soon as he laid eyes on G in that bed, he'd be gone again. Things aren't going to go back to normal, nothing is ever going to be the same because this is not a situation I ever thought we'd be put in. We were taught the basic skills of life in our younger years, and Simon had taught us how to handle ourselves as artists, but nothing prepared us for something to the heights of this. This was flirting with death, and I'd seen Final Destination enough to know that if it's her time she's going to go and we can't stop her. Harry won't accept that though, and if she's gone he will be too. He loves her with everything he's got and he'll give it to her even if she's unknowing. He won't move on, if she dies. If he doesn't commit, he'll go on as a hollow shell, walls built up to keep out anymore hurt, and to stop people from relieving the pain he already felt. He'd been building it up for so long and I knew it would only be a short amount of time before it all came out, before Harry's internal, ticking time bomb detonates and destroys himself and everyone in his path, including me.

At that thought, I felt the hot sensation burning in my cheeks as the water welled in my eyes. I cradled my face in my hands, keeping the sobs silent as they rocked through my body. Either way, I'd lose him, and in that I'd lose myself. Harry was my best mate, and if he left, I don't know what I'd do with myself. This whole thing is a domino effect, one goes, all of them go, slowly, but eventually they're all down. Right now, G is that first domino, teetering on the edge of falling, but still slightly stable. It was almost like I could hear Tara's voice in my head. If Harry was gone, she's the only one that would ever really understand. She was my rock, and she was so much stronger than me in every way. She didn't cry much, not even when she got fixed up after the accident. Anytime I'd get upset, she'd just tell me to look for that light at the end of the tunnel, and one day, I saw it. Once you catch a glimpse, your natural instinct to investigate kicks in and you find yourself slowly but surely overcoming your problems. A hand brushed my back and I looked up slowly, rubbing my nose with my sleeve and narrowing my eyes at Paul who was standing reluctantly with a reporter.

"How are you love," she said, her tone overly sweet, the fake sympathy dripping off of her voice and her all too perky smile had my stomach threatening to get rid of what little food I'd eaten. I lifted my eyes to meet her's, wishing I could translate the thousands of words in my mind into that one look, but that was too complicated. I ran a hand through my hair, shaking out the mess that it'd become from sleeping on this hospital chair. I took a deep breath as she waited impatiently for my statement so she could move on to another one of us, only concerned about getting the story and not truly giving a damn about any of it.

"How am I?" I repeated back slowly, pondering the question, "Well, I'd be a whole lot better if you'd get the fuck out of here I can tell you that." Paul's eyes widened as I spoke, but he didn't interrupt, he knew that this was not the time. I could deal with whatever headlines would come of this but right now I was in no mood to put the happy façade on, I was going to be brutally honest. "I don't understand how you think you have any right to be here. Yes, he's woken up but do you not get that there's still one of our loved ones battling against death. Do you not get that we want privacy and we deserve it just as much as any of the other families in the ICU. Why aren't you concerned about how they're all doing? That's right, I almost forgot, it's because our story is the one that's going to get you the money. Do you want me to tell you I'm doing swell, overcome with happiness that he's woken up, because you won't get that. Yeah, I'm thanking God that he's alright but I'm still hurting because he's hurting too. So don't act like you care how I really am feeling, because you don't. Just get the fuck away from me and my family. I say family, because that's what we are and if you don't like it then too bad for you. Now please, leave me be and let me take care of Harry and G." I realized then that my face had been pulled together in pain, and that tears had started to roll down my cheeks again. The woman stared at me in disbelief, muttering sorry then clicking off to victimize Zayn. I sniffled, rubbing the tears from my face as I dialed Anne's number, she needed to be here. The door of his room cracked open and that one action started an uproar, everyone dying to see who was coming out. My eyes were glued to the petite nurse, who slipped through the door, her lips pursed at the crowd as she squeaked toward me.

"Sir," she whispered as I stood, "He would like to speak with you."