How Could This Happen to Me? || Self Para

_{“I open my eyes,
I try to see but I’m
blinded by the white light,
I can’t remember how,
I can’t remember why,
I’m laying here tonight…"} 

OOC Note: This para takes place just a little after noon on Saturday, just pre-posting because I’m going to sleep through that.

"I’ll be back in a little bit babe!” Harry’s voice rang through the house, and he was sure that he heard Louis’ voice responding to him, he just wasn’t sure exactly what was said. “Love you!" 

——————–

If there was one thing that could be said for Harry, it was that he usually knew what the right thing to say was when he wasn’t pressured to say it. Even if he didn’t know why it was the right thing exactly. That thought hit him at about the same time the collision happened. He had only been going to the store, how did such a simple thing turn into this? How had a simple trip to the store for something as mundane as a baking pan been so horrendously flipped upside down? Almost literally. 

There wasn’t much that Harry could do, the airbag was holding him firmly in place, and his vision was fading. He couldn’t move his head enough to see the damage around him. He heard sirens in the distance, and was sure that they were headed towards him, but that was really the least of his worries. He would get out of this okay, he always had before, right? What he was concerned about was someone alerting Louis. Who would be able to do that if he didn’t? 

His hand was shaking as he tried his hardest to seek out his phone, letting out what was supposed to be a little victorious "aha” as he found it, but it escaped his mouth as more of a wheeze. What exactly had that done to him? He lifted the phone to where he could see with a hiss of pain, every little movement hurt, but if his phone wasn’t damaged, he would be damned if he didn’t at least try to call Louis. 

And try he did. He managed to get the phone illuminated and find the button to call Louis, but bringing the phone to his ear was far too hard, so speaker phone would have to do, and he would have to hope that Louis could hear over the sirens that were getting steadily closer. 

Ring, “Louis… Answer, please…” Harry’s voice was full of pain, but he wouldn’t give up just yet. Another ring, and another… Then Louis’ voicemail clicked in. So full of life, just like Louis himself, and even the sound of that brought a half smile to Harry’s face. 

“Louis, God babe, of all the times not to answer…” He spoke slower than usual, trying to keep his voice from sounding too messed up as he slumped forward onto the airbag, finding that to be a source of comfort even though the movement was painful. “Accident, not too far from home… Pretty sure the Rover’s totaled, I’ll be okay though." 

The sirens stopped, did that mean they had arrived?

"Think the ambulance is here, they’re gonna help..”

He heard footsteps, and that was probably the first time Harry noticed that the glass in his window was shattered. That could explain why he could hear everything so vividly. A man’s voice rang out not too far from the car, “Jesus Christ, guys get over here, stat." 

Those words shouldn’t have been comforting, they couldn’t have meant anything good, but Harry managed to convince himself that they meant he was getting out of there.

"I’ll have someone call you when I get to the hospital. I love you. So much.” He finished within seconds before the phone beeped to let him know that his message was over, that he had reached his time limit on what he could say to Louis. There shouldn’t have been a limit though, there never should have. He had so much more he needed to say to Louis, and as he dropped the phone to let it fall where it may, everything finally hit him. He had been trying to be strong for Louis, but there was no way that Harry was getting out of there and still be okay. He let his eyes drift shut, that was better than seeing things in the shades of grey that he was witnessing, at least. 

The sound of metal bending, being contorted to allow access to the inside of Harry’s car was the second hint that he had gotten about how bad things really were. He still didn’t know what had happened exactly, but whatever it was, it was bad. His breathing got harder by the second and after what seemed like an eternity, Harry felt hands reaching for him, pulling him out like he was an infant that had to be handled with the most care humanly possible. And maybe he did need that, because every movement made him cry out in pain, or try to. He was pretty sure that he had used the last of both his voice and his breath to make sure that Louis knew he loved him. He felt his body be laid down on some surface, (was that a stretcher?) which was only followed by items being placed all around him to keep him still. Those were braces, he was sure of that.

Was he really that broken?

What had happened?

An oxygen mask was placed over his face, but that didn’t help, breathing was still hard, and getting even harder now that he was laying down. His heart was pumping so so hart he was sure he could hear his own pulse. The paramedics around him were spewing off medical lingo that Harry didn’t understand a single word of, stating what was wrong with him, and Harry still didn’t understand. 

“What happened?” He tried to ask, but moving his mouth hurt to hard, and the voices were getting farther away. He tried to open his eyes but only saw pitch black. “What happened to me? What’s happening?” He was panicking, but instead of his heart beating faster like it should have, Harry was sure that his heart rate was dropping. 

Am I dying? That was the first time that thought had even occurred to Harry. He knew already that he wouldn’t be okay, but that he wouldn’t make it? That was too much to understand. What about Sophie? What about Louis? 

They say that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes, but the only thing that Harry could see was the past four months played back on rapid fire, in vivid detail. And then he heard it. He didn’t know how he heard it, but he heard it…. “We tried… Call it.”

A woman’s voice rang out as clear as glass:

“Time of death: 12:25.”