Loved You First - DISCONTINUED DUE TO LOSS OF INTEREST

Harry P.O.V

“Do you have his parent’s phone number so we can tell them what’s going on? We haven’t been able to contact anyone,” Dr Copeland asks.

“Niall’s parents died two years ago, there was an accident. I’m his emergency contact now.” I say, remembering the weeks during the four years Niall had disappeared I tried desperately to track him down so I could help him through his loss.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Well in that case I need you to fill out these forms.” Dr Copeland hands me a daunting looking clipboard stacked with medical forms. “And the police are here to talk to you as well.”

Great.

~~.~~

“Mr Styles, you need to calm down. Yelling isn’t going to do any good,” Dr Copeland says calmly, as I turn hysterical at his words.

“What do you expect me to do? You can’t just come here and say that and then expect everything to be okay. Everything is not okay,” I yell back.

“Look I know how hard this must be for you, but I have a lot of experience dealing with the families and friends of patients. But your yelling is not going to make this situation go away, I’m sorry,” he replies, just as calmly.

I do my best to breath in and out deeply, trying to calm my racing pulse. I look back at the doctor, “okay, I’m sorry. Just please tell me again.”

He places a hand on my shoulder as a kind of reassurance before speaking. “The tests we’ve run on Mr Niall Horan up to this point have made us come to the difficult conclusion that he is suffering from a severe case of retrograde amnesia, we won’t know the extent -,”

I cut him off abruptly. “Okay, all I understand in that sentence is amnesia and that’s bad enough, what the hell is retrograde amnesia?”

“Well Mr Styles, there are two main types of amnesia. Anterograde amnesia, this type does not allow the person suffering to make new memories, meaning that any new information a person is exposed to is unable to transfer from their short term memory into their long term memory. Retrograde amnesia, which is what we believe Mr Horan is suffering from is, the inability to retrieve information or memories from a particular date. In Mr Horan’s case he has lost years we’re not sure how far back exactly as of this time.”

“So what you’re saying is that Niall is still able to make new memories from this point? Is there any way that he will be able to recover any of the memories he has lost?” I ask, cautiously.

“In most cases patients with retrograde amnesia get all their memories back. But I don’t want to get your hopes up, every case is different, Mr Styles. It’s going to be a long process; it’s not going to happen overnight. Mr Horan will need to be constantly exposed to things relating to the years that he lost. Meaning anything to do with One Direction, his life, anything.” Dr Copeland says solemnly.

“But you’re saying there’s a chance he’ll be like he was before, given time?” I ask desperately clinging on to the only scrap of hope I have.

“Yes, Harry, there’s a chance,” he replies turning away. He turns back to face me. “Harry, you should sit back down, get some rest. You yourself are still healing from the accident.” Before heading into Niall’s hospital room.

I stay outside the room for a while, slumped in a cheap plastic chair that’s digging into my spine. Dr Copeland exit’s Niall’s room tells me that he has informed Niall of the current situation and says I should go in and see him. He said Niall needs a friend right now, but I’m not his friend. He doesn’t know me. Yet I pull myself out of the chair and enter the room, Niall is propped up into a sitting position on the bed. His face still scratched and bruised from the windscreen, his eyes flicker over to me as I stand awkwardly at the door.

“You can sit down, I don’t bite,” he says, gesturing slightly to my old empty bed beside him.

I walk into the room half sitting, half falling onto my bed as his curious eyes watch me.

“So apparently I have amnesia, weird huh?” he says his tone slightly gleeful it was hard to tell if he was happy or upset by it.

“Yeah, apparently you do,” I manage to choke out. My stiff demeanour doesn’t seem to affect him one bit, as he continues talking as if I had just questioned him.

“I guess something exciting was bound to happen to me eventually. But I don’t feel any different.”

“Of course you don’t feel any different,” I reply harshly.

“I’m sorry?” he asks, confusing crossing his brow.

“Of course you don’t feel any different, Niall. No time has passed for you, nothing has changed. But for the people who know you, that you’ve forgotten, for them everything’s changed,”

He looks at me for a bit before laughing. “Yeah, well I guess that’s true.”

I couldn’t believe this; this is not the Niall I know. Does he not care at all? But I guess how could he, he’s forgotten all of us. “What’s the last memory you have?” I ask him, scared of his answer.

He looks up to the white ceiling thinking for a bit. “Well um, I was in Mullingar. I can’t remember an exact date or year but I know I was in school.”

My face falls considerably at his words. How am I supposed to tell him that he’s lost six years of his life?

“Harry?” I look up at him to see him staring cautiously at me. “When was that? Why do you look so sad?” I just stare at him, how do I tell him? “Harry, how long ago was that?”

I just have to come out and tell him. He’ll find out sooner or later. I swallow. “That was six years ago, Niall.”

“Well fuck,” is all he says before thinking again. “Well as much as it sucks, we just have to roll with it I guess. See where this ride takes us.”

I couldn’t believe this; this is not the Niall I love. I don’t even know this person. I stand up suddenly, glaring daggers at his small frame laying in the bed. “You’re wrong. We can’t just see where the ride takes us. You lost six years of your life, Niall. You don’t remember me, or anything we’ve been through. You don’t remember Liam, or Louis or Zayn. I can’t even tell you about four years of that time because I wasn’t there. I don’t have a clue how you’re going to get it back. It honestly scares me, Niall, but you don’t understand that. And how could you, you don’t remember.”

“Harry,” he says cautiously, as if my name left a bad taste in his mouth. “I get that you’re upset, you don’t think I am?”

“You aren’t acting like any of this has fazed you. ‘Role with it and see where is takes us?’ I’m sorry but that doesn’t sound like you’re upset at all,” I shoot back, cutting him off.

“Look, I’m pissed okay. Is that what you want to hear? That I’m so angry that I could scream at these white walls until my voice becomes hoarse with over use? Because I am, god of course I am, but what am I supposed to do about it? There’s nothing I can do right now that will fix this. So yeah I’m just going to roll with it, until I can find something better to do.”

His words shocked me, he was still nothing like my Niall, but there was a hint of him in there when he spoke. I open my mouth to reply when a harsh knock at the door silences me. I walk over to it slowly, worried about who I will be faced with on the opposite side. “Are you going to open it, or leave me standing out in the hallway like a tool?”

I know that voice.

I open it quickly to reveal Louis, all beautiful in tight jeans and lose shirt that hangs just low enough allowing his collarbones to show prominently. He looks me up and down with a worried expression before pulling me hard against his body in a hug that makes my ribs crush together causing the air to leave my lungs, and has me not sure if I can physically take a breath. But I hug him back just as tightly because I need it. I don’t want to let it go. He pulls back look at my face, his hands still firmly holding my shoulders.

His face softens as he takes in my watery eyes and shaking bottom lip, I take in a sharp breath to keep from letting them spill over.

“Oh, Harold,” is all he says before pulling me into another hug. It’s shorter than the first though, and all too quickly he’s pulling back and looking over my shoulder at Niall, who’s watching us curiously.

“Niall! How are you feeling?” Louis asks him so casually; it was like he had spoken to him yesterday. But he hadn’t, from my knowledge they hadn’t spoken in years.

Niall looks weary for a moment before breaking into a smile. “I’m good thanks, how are you?”

“Whoa, you are different hey?” Louis says, flopping himself down on the end of Niall’s bed.

“Well with the whole amnesia thing I’ve got going on, I guess I am,” Niall replies, it was almost making me physically nauseous to watch them converse like best friends. Niall continued to stare at Louis, as if he was trying to put a name or a memory to the face that was in front of him. Louis stayed quite for a minute allowing him to think, before Niall’s face fell defeated and he let out a small frustrated huff. “I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but can you tell me who you are because I haven’t got a clue.”

Louis stares at him for a moment, before laughing. “Well damn. I was secretly hoping you had just forgotten Harry, I was positive I would have made a more lasting impression than this,” he says, holding out his right hand. “I’m Louis Tomlinson, your friend and ex-band mate.”

“Louis!” I say before Niall has a chance to speak. When Louis turns to look at me, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion, I speak slowly. “I haven’t had a chance to tell him about any of that yet.”

“Oh, shit mate I’m so sorry, stuck my foot in it again, huh?” He says, looking between Niall and me.

Niall just stares at both of us, obviously completely out of the loop, but he stays quiet.

“Can I ask why you’re actually here, Louis?” I ask, perhaps more harshly than I should have.

“Isn’t he my friend?” Niall speaks up, but Louis responds over top of him.

“We’re all here.”

“By that you don’t mean,” I start.

“Yes, Harry. Zayn and Liam are here too, I just came up first to assess the situation. Did you really think we wouldn’t come? It’s all over the news, Harry. You should have known that,” he replies looking back at Niall and continuing their conversation.

I walk slowly back to my bed and sit down, I can’t focus on what Louis and Niall are talking about because my mind is racing. What are they doing here? I understand that they want to help, but what do they seriously expect to do? Are they only there for Niall when his life appears to be in danger? Unfortunately it’s an occurrence that has happened all too regularly. I was with Niall, whenever I could be, whenever he let me be there for him. But where were they? Off in America pursuing their careers and leaving Niall behind. I never left him, but they did. They have no right to be here now.

I can hear Louis and Niall’s laughter cutting through my thoughts, what could possibly be amusing at this point in time? I sit for a little while longer listening to them drone on and on about nothing that makes the least bit of sense to me. There’s a pounding in my head and I’m not sure if its footsteps stomping down the hallways or my own heartbeat racing, my hands become speckled with tiny black dots as I stare at them hanging over my knees.

“Harry, are you okay?” Louis says, appearing at my side in an instant. It feels too hot in here. “He looks like he’s about to collapse, Niall press the nurse button quickly!”

I wave my hand in front of Louis, “No nurse I’m fine, just get me out of this room.” I look desperately up at Louis. “Louis, please just get me out of here.”

He puts his arm securely around my waist and hauls me out of the room, allowing me to slump in the same plastic chairs that line the corridor as before.

“Harry, are you okay? I really think I should call a doctor, you look like you’re having a panic attack,” he says as he kneels down in front of me.

“No -. No doctor. Just give me a minute, okay.” I gasp out between ragged breaths. I calm myself down enough to slow my breathing; my panic slowly subsides as I suck in all the air I can manage.

“Okay, Harry are you alright? Talk to me,” Louis says calmly, his face once again appearing in front of me.

I wait another minute wanting to be sure that I’ve completely gotten myself under control again before I answer him. “That’s not Niall.”

He looks shocked as I stare at him. “Of course it is, Harry who else could it possibly be?”

“I don’t know, Louis. But I’m telling you that that is not my Niall.” He still looks confused. “You were just in there talking to him, how could you not see it? You might not know as well as I do, but that’s not the Niall he’s been for the last four years. He changed, Louis. He changed long ago. I don’t know the person that’s in that room. He’s not the Niall I know.” I pause again, feeling my panic once again begin to rise. “Oh god, I saved Niall all those years ago just to kill him now. I’ve killed my Niall.”

He puts his hands on my shoulders shaking me until I look at him. “Harry, don’t be ridiculous. Niall is alive and well.” He stops when he sees the incredulous look I’m giving him. “Well you know what I mean. Not well well, but not dead.” Louis finishes, shifting uncomfortably.

I stare right into his eyes, hoping it will get my message across to him. “Louis, you don’t understand. My Niall is cocky, and distant and beautiful. Sometimes he’s even cold towards me, but that’s understandable. I love that Niall, but the man in that room is not him. Not anymore. I killed him that night and there’s only a slim chance of getting him back.”

Louis stares back at me completely speechless.

“Louis, he doesn’t know who I am.”

Notes