Harry's been slowly and successfully recovering on the right track for the past few days in the hospital since he had finally woken up. Harry had been actively moving around and being tested on his balance. He had to practice talking in complete sentences and using his brain to think about memories and certain things to get his cognitive development back. So far, Harry had been showing positive signs of improvement in the hospital, but the few minutes he is about to be released he gets overwhelmed with emotions and nearly crumbles all the progress he made by freaking out.

Louis hates seeing it. He hates seeing those moments where Harry takes a few steps back in his recovery and catches Harry zoning off into space and not remembering what he had been doing. Harry's progress had been a steady line of improvement, but Louis can see it in Harry's eyes and the pained look on his face that this is the hardest thing for Harry to go through.

Harry becomes breathless whenever he goes through his speech therapy, and it usually ends up with him crying on the bed from not being able to hold a conversation for longer than five minutes. Or he gets dizzy and light headed from walking around and being tested with his balance. He can only be mobile on his feet for so long before his muscles ache and his head starts to spin. Those are the moments when he sees Harry crumble and completely get upset with himself for not being able to push longer than a few minutes.

Harry can not see it, but Louis knows how much Harry has gotten back since being in the coma. Although he can't talk for long increments of time, his stutter isn't nearly as bad as it used to be and he is able to process words faster than he had. He can move his legs a little faster and take longer strides. His movements are no longer shaky and careful, like he is finally gaining confidence in working his body. Harry may not notice the improvement in all those things, but Louis sees them as accomplishments.

One of the things Harry has not been to fond with though, somethings he becomes easily irritable with, is having to use the restroom. It is quite a trip from the hospital bed to the bathroom, so by the time Harry makes his way to the toilet he has to sit down to do his business instead of standing up. His legs can only stand for so long before they start to wobble, and the nurses don't want to risk Harry collapsing from not being able to hold himself up.

Harry also hates when he has to bathe. He claims he can go days without having to bathe or wash his hair since his showers had been with a sponge and a bucket of water, but when he started moving more he was able to finally actually use the bathtub. At first he refused to use it because he didn't want to be naked in front of the nurses, completely embarrassed and insecure, but when they allowed Louis in the bathroom to help clean Harry he was able to calm down and help be bathed.

Louis had to remind Harry - of course quietly and out of the nurse's ear - that he had seen Harry naked plenty of times. And even though Harry was significantly skinnier and had a lot of cuts on his body, Louis would remind Harry every time he bathed him that Harry was still beautiful. He even kissed some of the scars on Harry's body and caressed Harry's hips in his dainty hands.

"Hello, Mr. Styles," The doctor soon walks into the room, lightly tapping on to the door to make his entrance known. Louis is sat next to Harry on and arm chair, hands lazily conjoined together while Louis strokes his thumb on the back of Harry's hand. Anne is also in the room, sitting by the window sill as she looks over at Harry before turning to the doctor. "Today you will be allowed to go home. The nurse will be arriving shortly with the wheelchair. Now if I can have Mrs. Twist and Mr. Tomlinson come outside with me to handle the paperwork."

Harry turns his head to Louis and gives him a pout when Louis stands from the chair. Louis smiles down at him and pressed a light kiss to Harry's forehead, being careful with the ugly scar that is there. As Louis and Anne are walking out to meet with the doctor, a nurse strides past them while rolling a wheel chair in front of her. Louis then turns his focus on to the nurse who is helping Harry get out the bed, and Louis can't stop watching through the doorway while Anne and the doctor continue to talk in front of him.

Louis grimaces as he has to watch the pained look on Harry's face, noticing how much of a struggle it is for him to get out of bed and sit down on the chair. Louis genuinely hates watching Harry struggle like this, and he honestly hates seeing how miserable Harry looks. All Louis wants to see is Harry smile again, and he wishes Harry could be healthy to simply enjoy himself instead of being in constant pain.

Louis' focus was so strained on Harry that he nearly misses the complete conversation between the doctor and Anne. But when he finally turns his head towards them to get the tail end of what they were talking about, he cocks his head back a little stunned to see how left out he suddenly was. "Yeah, I think he should come home with me. It may be easier," Anne's had suggest which has Louis stepping in right away.

"Wait, what?" Louis' eyes widen, not really sure where Anne got the impression that Harry should go home with her. The two of them have been living together for awhile now - plus Harry is in college - so it was always implied that Harry would be going home with Louis in their shared flat. Louis never had the thought of not bringing Harry with him. If anything, Louis never wants to take his eyes off Harry nor ever leave him alone again.

"He doesn't live with you anymore, though. He lives with me. We live together," Louis then explains slowly, eyes drifting back and forth between the doctor and Anne before quickly looking to Harry through the doorway. Louis then lets out a sigh as he runs his fingers through his hair, noticing the doctor stepping aside so him and Anne could speak privately about this.

"Louis, I know he lives with you," Anne begins when it is finally the two of them, using her motherly tone on Louis. "But it would be better if he came home with me. He will have his parents and his sister around. You won't be able to do this all on your own. It's going to be a lot of work."

Louis lets out a bitter scoff and crosses his arms over his chest, "No, it will not be a problem at all. He is 20 years old-"

"He's almost 20, my dear," she interrupts calmly, trying to offer Louis a smile to make him feel somewhat better. He doesn't. He will feel better knowing Harry is by his side and at their flat. "Still 19. A teenager if you will," she continues.

Louis has to bite his lip for a moment to calm his sass down. He suddenly feels tears in his eyes and quickly blinks them away before any of them can roll down his cheek. He uncrosses his arms from his chest and decides to place them on his hips, impatiently tapping his foot on the ground. "He's living with me, Anne. He doesn't live with you anymore. He's a full on adult now with his own responsibilities. I have to take care of him, it's what I want, it's what I promised him. He's starting a life with me. Hell, he's already started it with me the first time we met five years ago. You can't just take him away like that. He's my fiancé, he's my husband," Louis argues, cursing himself when he feels he first tear roll down his cheek.

Anne opens her mouth ready to reply to Louis, but she is soon stopped when their is a distinct whine coming from Harry's room that has their conversation immediately halted. Louis' eyes widen right away, and on instinct he is rushing into the room. He runs straight to Harry's side and crouches down in front of him, reaching his arms up so he can caress the sides of Harry's delicate face.

"Harry, baby what's wrong?" Louis asks, noticing Harry's scrunched up face and his body awkwardly shifting in the wheelchair as if he was antsy and uncomfortable.

Harry closes his eyes and drops his back to let out a groan. His hands come up to the sides of his temple and ends up covering his ears as he lets out a continuous string of whines. Louis sighs as he moves his hands down to Harry's thigh, running his fingers along his leg and watching Harry carefully until he finally opens his eyes.

"My head. It hurts," Harry breaths out as tears fill his pretty green eyes. "It's hurting me," he continues.

Harry removes his hands from his hand and moves them down to Louis' hand. He sandwiches Louis' hands in between his own and closes his eyes when another wave of pain rushes through his head. Louis bites his lip while Harry squeezes his hand as hard as possibly. The nurse quickly grabs medicine Harry will need to be taking and ends up giving him a dosage now so his pain can subside for awhile before his next dosage comes.

Harry opens his eyes and takes the pill carefully, making sure he has enough water to help it down his throat. He finally releases his hold on Louis' hands and ends up dropping them so he can relax more comfortably in the chair. The medicine is already making quick work as Louis notices all the lines of stress and the look of pain finally dissipate from Harry.

"What was the point of him getting surgery?" Louis suddenly asks when Harry has calmed down. His eyes were now staring at his lap, and Louis stood himself up from crouching down. He turns towards the doctor who was standing by the nurse over by the counter.

"Louis," Anne warns when she notices the tone in Louis' voice.

"No seriously, why?" Louis presses, shaking his head in disbelief and running his fingers through his hair. "Harry's in so much pain. Look at him. He's miserable. He's weak. His head is fucking hurting him. There had to have been a better way to fix him that didn't leave him in this much pain."

The doctor sense the frustration Louis is facing, knowing this is a typical outcome from a person who has to stand by while the patient is suffering. He steps closer to Louis and guides him carefully over towards the chair to get him to sit down, keeping his hand lightly on Louis shoulder in what is supposed to be a comforting maneuver.

"I assure you, the surgery was very needed.," the doctor eases, "If he wouldn't have gotten it, then there could be a possibility that we would be having a very different conversation right now. The brain wouldn't have survived."

Louis' breath hitches in his throat and is finally drawn back to the day he found out Harry's heart gave out. There was always the risk of Harry not surviving this accident, but to know there was actually a point that Louis lived through in knowing Harry's heart was not beating was the scariest moment of his life. He can't even think about the fact of what would happen to Harry if he didn't even get the surgery.

"His heart stopped," Louis mumbles weakly, glad he is already sitting down because otherwise he knew his legs would have given out.

"His survival was much higher with the surgery. We had a chance to actually remove the contusion in which would have ruptured his brain which is very fatal. He needed the surgery."

Louis puffs air out his lips before he is shaking his head and running his hands down the sides of his face. He stands up from the chair and points towards Harry, frowning at him as they make eye contact. "I just hate seeing him like this," Louis sighs, seeing Harry give a weak smile. "He should be laughing, running around the flat with his cute monkey pajama bottoms....singing me grease," Louis then pauses, dropping his eyes to the ground and lowering his voice, "getting married to me."

Anne lets out a soft sigh as she scoots her way over towards Louis. She places her hand on his back in what is supposed to be a comforting gesture, but he remains looking down at the ground and pouting his lips. "Let's just get Harry home," she suggests quietly, "The sooner we start working with him, the better. He's already doing fantastic."

"Yeah," Louis sniffs, wiping his eyes really quickly and looking up to see Harry watching him carefully. Louis smiles at him and walks over to his wheel chair whenever Harry raises his healthy hand up in the arm to summon him. Louis shakes his head fondly and laces their fingers together, bending down to press a light kiss to Harry's forehead.

"Home?" Harry whispers right in Louis' ear, coming out in a shaky breath.

Louis pulls back from Harry's face and bites his lip. He takes a quick glance at Anne, noticing the smile on her face before she begins nodding her head. Louis' face then brightens immediately as he turns to face Harry again, kissing the back of his hand before walking to behind the wheel chair to push Harry out the room.

"Let's go home, love."

.•.•.•.•.

There is a loud thump the minute Harry stands up from the couch, getting too quick on his feet in which causes his head to get dizzy and his dainty legs to give out. He falls on his bum in front of the couch, his green eyes growing rather dark as he looks up at Louis who is rushing to his side. This seems to set something off within Harry because soon enough he is snapping as he tosses lazy punches in Louis' direction. "GET OFF ME," Harry screams, eyes nearly filled to a brim with tears and his face scrunched in anger.

This past week has already been stressful for the both of them, having to balance Harry's recovery amongst other things that goes on in their life. These outburst aren't the first to make an appearance, and Louis tries his best to remain calm and not let his frustration cloud his judgement. It's just, Louis is back at school, and the footie team has started practice again. So he has to now manage his classes the majority of the time through email so he can take care of Harry while still trying to balance his studies and homework. Plus, he has to accommodate his practicing with the coach and nearly missing half of the team practices due to staying home with Harry. The majority of the time he either goes late at night to get work in or early in the morning, both of which are when Harry takes his medicine and is knocked out for hours.

Louis is thankful though he has his friends to come help him watch Harry during the week. Although most of Louis' professors have been understanding in the situation, he can't necessarily miss class everyday. He tries to go whenever one of the lads has a free hour. They've managed a steady of rotation of making sure Harry is never alone. Even Anne and Robin say they can come on the weekends to help so Louis can catch up on anything he's been lacking - which is mostly sleep and his studying.

Louis knows he needs all the help he can get, but he also knows he has to be the main person to be there for Harry. The majority of the time his friends are there for Louis himself. All this built of frustration and stress causes a mental strain on the lad, so having his friends to help alleviate anything makes Louis relax just the slightest.

But Harry is struggling a lot with inside his head. He has major PTSD from the accident and sometimes sits there crying and replaying the events in his head. Harry tells Louis all the time how vividly he can picture himself getting hit with the car, and how he is scared to close his eyes sometimes. This leads to Louis staying awake for hours comforting and holding Harry until he finally tires himself to sleep - or when the medicine finally kicks in.

Louis is always on alert now when it comes to harry, and he tries not to be too smothering about it, but the accident scared Louis just as much as it scared Harry. Louis thought he was going to lose the love of his life, so he feels like he always has to make sure Harry is okay and stays out of trouble. Which is why when Harry stood from the couch and fell, he immediately rushed to his side to make sure he didn't do any damage to his head or the sprained parts of his body.

"Baby, I'm just trying to help," Louis eases as he takes a step back from Harry, holding his hands up in the air as if to show Harry he won't touch him.

"I don't give a fuck what you are trying to do. Leave me the hell alone, would you? You're smothering me," Harry continues to snap. His eyes narrow as he looks down towards his body. He places his hands flat on the cushion behind him and tries with every ounce he can to push himself up, but Louis can see the struggle he is having in trying to lift his own body weight up.

"Harry, you're still recovering. You're going to need help-"

"I don't want you or your help," Harry snaps, looking back up at Louis and scowling, "You weren't there when I woke up, so why should you be here now?"

Harry's tears are finally running down his face as he nearly tires himself out from trying to push himself off the ground. He admits defeat with a loud groan and slumps back against the couch. Harry begins to shake his head and mumbling cuss words under his breath.

Louis lets out a sigh as he runs his fingers through his hair. During any of Harry's outburst, he always manages to say the right thing towards Louis which causes him to feel guilty and defeated. Just the day before Harry had snapped at Louis whenever he tried to help Harry in the bath, and he ended up reminding Louis of the time they broke up over the phone.

"Harry, I-" Louis says quietly, trying to mask his emotions by remaining calm and trying to be helpful, but he gets cut off again with another outburst from Harry that has Louis' eyes widening in confusion.

"Just stop.," Harry growls, closing his eyes and dropping his head back on the cushion. He runs his hands down the sides of his face and begins to shake his head. "You did it. You did everything. You made it stop." Louis tilts his head to the side as Harry finally opens his eyes again. "You hurt me. You made it stop. My chest."

Louis notices Harry's emotion changed from anger to sadness, and the tears are uncontrollably running down his face. Harry doesn't stop as his sobs get louder and snot begins coming out his nose. Louis takes a small step forward and feels his stomach drop when he finally catches on to what Harry is babbling on about. Making it stop. His chest. Being hurt. Louis realizes Harry is talking about when his heart stopped while he was in the coma, and Louis is quite curious as to how Harry can remember that.

"What are you talking about?" Louis questions, "I didn't do that, dear. It was just a freak scare."

Harry begins shaking his head again, more slowly as his eyes drop down to his lap. "When we broke up. That day," He mumbles, "That day, you hurt me. When I hung the phone up, my chest started hurting. My heart. That's when I felt it stop."

Louis thinks he understands as he takes another step closer towards Harry. Louis has read about what goes on in someone's mind when their in a coma, and Louis had always been curious as to what was going on in Harry's. He wondered if Harry ever heard him talking to his unconscious body or ever thought about waking up to see him again. Louis thinks Harry related his heart stopping to when they broke up, as if it was something he could heal from.

"You didn't fight for me. You let me break up with you. You hurt my heart, and you don't even care, " Harry then belted out, eyes narrowing at Louis when he realized he was getting closer again. The sadness he had just felt is now being masked by anger again. "You don't love me," Harry then accuses, "You didn't tell me that. You didn't text it back to me - before the accident. You didn't reply. How could you, you're always supposed to tell me that."