A/N: I listened to Pearl Harbor - Brothers. It really made me feel in the mood for this chapter :(

-

"It's all my fault, Harry," he cries and something drops to the bottom of my stomach.

Liam lifts his hands, as if to make a figure in the air, but then slams them down onto his lap.

Alarm bells start going off inside my head, telling me to get away, telling me to be scared. Though somehow, I know I have yet to discover if all of that is even necessary. I mean, Liam's my best friend. What could he have done? I could very possibly just be misunderstanding him. Or he's just tired and thinking rubbish.

"What is your fault, Liam? What do you mean?" the words leave my lips calm and slow. I sound as if I've got everything under control and for a second, I even believe I do. But then a whimper echoes through the car, followed by the sound of Liam's choked voice, saying;

"It's my fault he got into the accident,"

And just like that, as if a thunderstorm found it's way inside of me, I feel sick and on the verge of vomiting.

I lose every bit of control I had.

I pull myself up from my seat, unable to form words and not knowing what else to do. I'm sitting on my knees as I focus my eyes on Liam. I can't wrap my finger around why he would think it's his fault, but he's starting to scare the crap out of me now.

I still try to stay calm and I tell Liam to try too. I tell him he's not making any sense and that he's being weird. But Liam shakes his head wildly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"What did you do?" I whisper in terror and I don't know if I want to hear the answer anymore.

Liam seems to have trouble to get the words out. I'm still feeling sick to my stomach and I feel very lightheaded too. I'd really rather just get out of this situation, but I have to know.

"Liam, please,"

"He was just in such a hurry, Hazz" Liam begins and I watch intensely how more tears form in his eyes. "He thought he was going to miss the wedding. I..- I assured him he would be fine, but I-"

I find myself rubbing my hand over Liam's back. Up and down. Again and again and again. I just can't help it and I hadn't even noticed I'd started doing it. Part of me doesn't trust where this is going and honestly, I'm not sure whether to keep comforting him or not. Though as Liam's friend, I should know that he would never hurt someone. And seeing him hurting instead, hurts me too.

"Go on," I plead. "Liam, what happened?"

"He..- He was so stressed out and I knew he was, but I..-" Liam wipes his wet and snotty nose on his sleeve, his words are gibberish, his lips trembling. "I- I asked him to get me an extra shirt or whatever. I asksed him even though I knew he was stressed out, and..-"

He trails off again.

"What are you saying?" I press. This still doesn't make sense to me.

"He went to get my stuff, Harry. Don't you get it?" Liam looks up to where the ceiling of his car hides the sky. More tears roll over his cheeks and I wait. Then he locks eyes with me. "It was because of me that he was going to arrive even later at the wedding," he whispers, as if afraid to say it out loud. "It's because of me that he was probably stressed out and speeding..-"

Liam's eyes are massive as he's staring at me in shock. They're filled with more tears and he's not blinking either. He looks so strange like this. It's like I don't even recognise him.

"Harry," he says thickly. "If I'd never asked him to get that stuff for me, he wouldn't have been on the road at that time. And he would've never gotten into the accident,"

Liam's barely able to finish his sentence and once he does, he breaks down in heavy sobs.

I take a moment to pull myself together, take it all in, and then I find myself quietly crying too.

I'm crying because I finally have a vision of what Louis might have felt like and what, because of this, might've caused the accident. But truthfully, I'm mostly crying because I realise what Liam has put himself through these past days. It's just too cruel.

He's been blaming himself all this time.

He's been thinking all of this was because of him.

"My God, Liam," I whisper and wipe the tears from my cheeks.

Liam keeps looking down. He's fiddling with his trembling fingers. It's a rather heartbreaking sight, so I can't help but pull him to me.

Liam's surprised by my sudden move and I can tell that for a moment, he doesn't know what to do. I know Liam thinks my hugs are awkward because mostly it's only Louis I want to hug, but this is important right now. Liam needs this. That's why I'm thankful that soon enough, he wraps his arms around me too.

We stay like that a while. Both just sitting in silence until I finally know what to say. "Li," I start, letting my chin rest on his shoulder. "Are you insane?"

Sure, I can completely understand why Liam thinks it's his fault and the tiniest, darkest part of me believes it too. Both Louis and the other driver wouldn't've been on the road together if it wasn't for the bad timing. But that's exactly what it was: bad timing. It's simply mental to blame Liam for it. It can't be because of him and I can't allow myself to actually think it was and nor can Liam. It was just a very bad and unfortunate day. How could Liam have known?

I pull away from our hug but keep a strong hold on his shoulders. He's only arm-length away.

"Liam," I say, looking him deep in the eye even though it hurts me to do it. "This is not and will never be your fault. You couldn't have known he would get into an accident. None of us knew," I'm trying to explain it carefully, trying to get through to him, but Liam just looks down again. He's broken in two, I can see it. I can hear his heart ache. "Yes, it was horrible timing, Li. It's just awful the way things happened, but it's not because of you,"

Liam sniffs hard and starts to play with his fingers again. "But I..- I just- God, Harry, I ruined both your lives!"

"You didn't!" I say sternly. "Stop it, please. You're going to make me cry,"

I look down at my hands, mimicking Liam, and twist my ring between my fingers. Louis gave it to me once. It's a silver ring, thick, with bears printed onto it. He thought it suited me and I don't think I've ever taken it off since the day I got it from him.

"Li, the accident was not your fault. You didn't do this to him," I want to sound strong, but my voice falters. Even referring to Louis as 'him' bring this salty taste to my mouth. It feels like my throat tightens, as if I don't want to let myself breathe. "I'm so scared," I whimper softly. "And I know you're too. But you have got to stop blaming yourself for it,"

Liam doesn't say anything, his breathing sounds uneven. His entire body seems to be trembling, he's restless and I know this feeling all too well.

"It hurts me to know you've been blaming yourself, man," I confess, looking out the window. "That's just horrible,"

Liam doesn't say anything back and whilst I wait for a response, I try to focus on my mum's house next to us. Even though we're good, it's a bit too hard for me to look at Liam right now. Because all I feel is a lot of pain. I feel everyone's pain. Liam's, Louis', the pain of our friends, Louis' family. It's all weighing so much. I fear it's going to pull me down, it's that heavy. And the heaviest right now is Liam's. So choosing to focus all my emotions on the house, it helps.

My mum's house still looks the same as it did when I visited last month.

I remember it well.

Louis was with me that day. Mum had made our favourite cookies and we'd been working in her garden the entire afternoon. It's weird to realise that the last time I was here, I was with Louis. And he was very much alive that day.

I guess a house never really changes. Or at least not until you move out and someone else moves in. Though despite that fact, I'd somehow expected my mum's house to look different... But it doesn't, of course.

Mum's still got the same plants in the windowsill, the same doormat telling you to come in and the same nametag on the door.

It actually even looks the same as six years ago or any day at all.

It has the same narrow driveway, same brown/greenish lane and same ugly, old mailbox. Nothing has changed at all, though everything around it has... And weirdly enough, it makes me want to be a house; stable, and unchangeable.

The sound of a quiet chuckle makes me come back to earth. I look at Liam. The chuckle came from him. Yes, tears are still rolling down his cheeks, but there's this thing about him that seems to have lightened up.

Once he sees he's got my attention, he asks me bewilderedly how it's possible that I'm not mad at him. And I kind of laugh at that too.

"Because it's not your fault!" I state again and shove him jokingly. He shoves me back. "God, Liam," I add. "You really need to stop thinking that,"

Liam almost rolls his eyes and for a moment he hesitates. Then he agrees and tells me he'll try, leaving me to wonder if he's really going to stop blaming himself from now on.

That's his battle.

-

"Oh, my darling!" is the first thing my mum says when she opens her faded pink door. She pulls me into the strongest hug ever and practically drags me inside. "Oh my baby," she cries. "How are you holding up?"

I love my mum to death, don't get me wrong. I love her about as much as I love Louis, but I can't deal with her overprotective and loving side right now. I feel too unstable and weak for that. All I want to do right now is to lie in my bed, cry, and wait for the hospital to call. I still can't believe I actually left there.

"I know about everything that happened. Jay called me. Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry this happened to you," Mum's crying already and I fight so hard not to cry too.

"Mum, it's Louis that it's happened too. Not me,"

Mum takes a moment to take that in. "I know darling," she says then. "But you're in it too. This must be so hard,"

I know she means well. I do, I do. But it doesn't help the situation and it makes me want to drop to the floor even more.

"I made soup," mum says, taking my arm and pulling me through the hall into the living room. "I want you to have some,"

"I'm not hungry," I protest and shake my head, trying to get the nauseated feeling away. But mum insists.

"You're having some,"

And just as I want to argue, mum pushes me on her fat couch. She throws a blanket towards my head and demands me to keep seated right there. She disappears in the kitchen and I try to mentally prepare myself for the steaming bowl of soup I'm about to get.

If life wasn't such a mess, I'd be so happy with mum's soup. But today.., not so much. The thought of it makes me sick.

Mum returns a bit too soon and I have no choice but to take it. Thankfully it's hot so I get to put it away for a bit longer.

Mum takes a seat in her favourite chair opposite from me. She looks at me quizzically, as if trying to see if there are more things wrong with me other than my completely shattered heart and unbearable pain and fear.

"Where's Robin?" I ask, merely to get mum to stop looking at me so intensely.

"He's at work. He'll be home for dinner, though,"

"Okay,"

The conversation dies down. Mum's still studying me, but I choose to ignore it. It's not like she'll stop when I ask her to and asking requires talking which I lack the energy of right now.

I blow at the soup on the table in front of me. I love mum for making it, even though I don't want it. But mum is the kind of mum that spends hours in advance to prepare all sort of foods and drinks and wants to make everything perfect if she knows you're coming. I kind of have that trait too. Mum and I used to cook together when I was younger. We'd do it for Robin before he'd come home from work or for whenever Louis was going to come over. I loved it.

"Harry," mum says suddenly. She kind of scared me out of my intense focus on the bowl of soup.

I look up at her. The emotion in her face has changed and it makes me feel nervous. What has just happened? She's like a completely other person.

"Listen," she starts.

I stay quiet, but take the bowl of soup between my hands. The intensity of the drastically changed situation distracts me from what I'm doing.

"It's understandable you don't want to hear any of it, but it has to be done," mum takes a breath. "I've been thinking -well, actually- Jay and I have been thinking that it might be a good idea to return everyone's wedding gifts? Maybe return the cake too and the tables, the buffet..?"

"What?" I ask confused, my voice coming out low and slowly.

"You know this, Harry.. We need to give back the money people spent for a wedding that didn't happen. And return all the food so others can benefit from it?"

"Why would that be necessary? We'll have the wedding later on,"

"Harry," mum then says sadly. Her voice is barely audible, her shoulders suddenly slumping down. She gets up and takes a seat next to me.

I put the bowl away and look her in the eye. My head is spinning.

"You need to understand what happened to Louis today. You have to know the consequences. He's-"

"I know what happened!" I cut her off. "But he'll make it. I refuse to believe that this is it," my blood starts to boil, but at the same time, everything goes cold.

Mum's crying again. She looks so hurt, there's still so much pain. So much more weight. It's almost as if she's afraid to tell me, but I already know exactly what she's going to say. I just don't want to hear it out loud.

Mum keeps opening and closing her mouth. She's trying to find the right words to use. I know her too well. She studies my face yet again and I wonder about all the things she can see in my eyes.

"Harry, I really do think it's better if we return everything. Please,"

"Why?" I ask again.

"Please,"

"No, say it! Why?"

Mum's struggling so much, but I don't care. I dare her to say it, I dare her.

"There's not going to be a wedding anytime soon,"

"NO!" I shout as soon as the dreadful words come out of my mum's mouth. I stand up and throw a pillow to the ground. I'm ready to walk away, go to bed, but mum stops me.

"I just want you to be prepared if it ends poorly,"

"Poorly?!" I fume and spin around so quickly that I even startle myself with the move. I take a deep and unsteady breath. "He's not dead yet,"

Mum mumbles that she knows and she takes my hand. She pulls me down to sit next to her. I do so. She strokes my cheeks and looks at me so grievously. There's something she's keeping from me. I can feel it.

"What?"

Mum shakes her head. Both her hands are on my cheeks now. Her eyes filled with more tears.

"You'd tell me if there was more going on right?" I ask her. But mum looks down at this. "Please," I beg. "I'm not stupid,"

"I know," mum whispers.

She loses her strength shorty after and again, she's searching for a right way to tell me whatever it is she hasn't said before.

Then she says the thing I wish I hadn't asked for to hear after all...

"There's only a fifteen percent chance Louis will make it through,"

Her voice is soft, sad, quiet, but to me, it pierces my ears. The doctors didn't tell me about this. I didn't know about the fifteen percent chance. I would've never left the hospital if I'd known. That's probably exactly why they didn't tell me, but still, isn't it illegal to keep such information from a patient's husband to be?

"I've got to go," I say out of instinct, my world spinning yet again. "I have to- I can't-"

I try to get up, but mum pushes me down. I struggle and fight to get out of her hold, but her hold also feels so good. It's warm and safe and if I give in just a little, it puts my mind at rest. It's finally quiet.

Though a wave of panic rises from my stomach again and runs through my entire body. I can't give in. I need to go to Louis. Louis is so much more important.

I try to get away again but mum keeps shouting 'no' as she keeps holding on to me. Her hands are over my head, my head pressed against her chest. She's crying so hard and I am too. I don't even know what I feel anymore. What is this life? Why does this happen? It hurts so much. It hurts so damn much. Even crying hurts. I thought crying was meant to be relieving, but clearly, it's not. I can feel the exact location of my heart and the big, black, bleeding ball in my stomach by the grief and illness this world has given me.

I don't know what to do with myself or where I am. I close my eyes so tight, I feel so sick, so lightheaded. I cry so hard. Torture.

Is this a panic attack?

Mum's whispering, she's making these soothing sounds, rocking me, stroking my head. Only when I let myself listen and when I finally accept I'm hurting so much too, do I realise I'm on the floor, with mum still right next to me, holding me tight.

It takes me a while to try and calm down. Actually, I don't think it's possible to completely calm down. I won't until I see Louis alive. But finally, I manage to get my breathing normal, my head clears a little and the spinning stops. It feels as if it wasn't even me in these last 10 minutes. It feels as if I've been watching someone else or that someone else took over my body.

Mum's still shushing me, still rocking me and still crying quietly.

I sit up a little more and look at her.

My face feels puffy, red and my eyes are hard to keep open. Mum's got the same.

"I'm sorry," she whispers when our teary eyes meet. "I shouldn't have brought it up. It was too soon,"

I don't know what to say. She's right and it was too soon. I just don't want to tell her because it'll make her feel even more like crap.

"I'm serious about what I said, mum," I tell her instead. "Louis isn't dead yet,"

-

A/N: Omgg so sad :(( I'm also very sorry about not uploading in SO long. I've just been feeling very burned-out and I've been having trouble with myself.. But I'll try to update way more often! Writing really does make me happy. And sharing it with my readers too <3