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Harry barely makes it off stage before the rest of the lads are surrounding him. He knew it would happen, had actually been surprised when they had held off from doing so while they were still on stage. It’s just the way that they all are. When one of them is hurt they all swarm around the injured member like a pack of mother bears.
They make the short walk from the side stage to their dressing room like that, more swarm than human. There are hands and arms all around him, checking him over like he lost a body part instead of just vomiting up his pre-show dinner backstage.
Harry tries to wave them off, assurances tumbling from between his lips even though his tongue feels too big and too thick for his mouth. Cuddle piles are great, he'd really just love to make to the bathroom so he can brush his teeth first. He tried snacking while on stage and drinking lots of water to get rid of the after-sick taste but all it would do was mask it did a little while before it came back with a vengeance.
"I'm fine you guys. I swear. I think it's just some food poisoning."
His words don’t do a thing. Louis just clucks his tongue while Niall burrows further into Harry's neck. When Paul follows them into the dressing room, Zayn gives him a flat look from his place at Harry’s shoulder where he’s standing like a sweaty, tattooed honor guard.
Paul takes in the huddle of boys in the middle of the room and crosses his arms over his burly chest while doing his best impression of a mountain. "You boys know the drill,” he says, tilting his head to the door. “We gotta keep you separate now."
Louis bristles like a little hedgehog and Harry would laugh if he could breathe from under the crush of boy that seems to be clinging to every limb. Liam puffs up right next to him, chest out like he's trying to be a hard thug. "You can't. It's a travel night, you can't kick the rest of us off the bus just to separate us."
"No,” Paul agrees. “But I can make Harry drive in a car or ride on another bus."
The boys all start yelling on top of each other.
“What?” Liam’s voice is pure bafflement.
Zayn shakes his head. "That’s just not on, mate."
"Cruel and unusual,” Niall adds.
"Oh, like that wouldn't make him worse!" Louis does the impossible and puffs up even further, crossing his arms over his chest while staring Paul down.
The mother bear comparison jumps back into Harry’s mind, but this time it’s like Paul is trying to separate them from their cub.
Paul is unimpressed in the face of danger and uses his eyebrows to show it. "Well then, if you have it all figured out, what do you suggest?"
They all pause and exchange looks, communicate in that freaky, without words way that they've perfected over the last three years.
It's Louis who speaks. Their unofficial leader. The one that people always take the time to be quiet and listen to.
"Let us take care of him,” he reasons. “If he's contagious, we've already been exposed so either we'll get it it we won't at this point. Plus, if you kick him off, all it will do is expose the crew and the rest of the group. Hell, maybe even Lux. You wouldn't want to be responsible for Lux getting sick, would you?"
Louis is not afraid of using a low blow if it gets him what he needs and what he thinks he needs is access to Harry. It’s not an accusation, not really, yet that knowledge doesn’t stop Harry from whimpering at that the suggestion that he might get his favorite little girl sick. At the sound Liam pulls him back against his chest, making sure to make room for Niall who is still attached to Harry's side. They're still standing in the middle of the dressing room and Harry would love to just sit down somewhere but has a feeling that's not going to happen anytime soon.
Paul grunts, not swayed. "Guilt doesn’t work on me, Tomlinson, and you know it. That doesn't solve the problem either."
"Yes it does,” Louis says, raising his chin as stubborn as ever. “It means only the bus that's already been exposed continues to be and Harry will be taken care of by someone who's not going to bitch about how it's not in their job description.”
Louis pauses and smirks, his expression assured. “That doesn’t mention the fact that if you don't, then it's going to be Danger Day for the next week. Maybe even two, who knows?" Louis shrugs like he’s completely innocent and Harry doesn't know if he should be proud of the set up or disapproving of the blackmail tactics.
Paul rubs at his temples like that’s going to magically fix the migraine that a slighted Louis Tomlinson and company would cause. He knows when he's been beat. "Fine. But at the first sign that one of the rest of you aren't feeling well, all five of you are going to be separated. And I don't want to hear a word about being tired because you didn't get any sleep because you are all a pack of over protective idiots."
There are cheers and jumping like they've been told they have free rein in an amusement park instead of one sickly teenage boy.
Louis broad grin splits his face. "We love you too, Pauly!"
"Not going to regret it, mate,” Niall promises.
Zayn’s quick to reply with a, "You'll probably regret it, but thanks anyway."
"S'okay, it's just food poisoning anyways."
The last one is from Harry. Because he's not sick. Really. He has been feeling off since right after lunch. It has to be that something he ate was bad.
His protests are quickly muffled and they all go through the motions of getting ready for a night on the bus. They pack up their things spread around the dressing room. Louis throws Harry's things in with his while Liam checks to make sure they don't leave anything behind.
Normally, some of the band or the 5sos kids would hitch a ride with them for part of the way, but Paul is firm on no extras tonight. They don't fight him on it, instead nodding along while saying their goodbyes to some of the crew they're not going to see until next stop.
Harry is about to take his own shower when he sees Zayn talking to a runner. They’re bent over a piece of paper that looks like it was ripped out of one of Zayn’s sketch books while talking about ‘must haves’ verse ‘it would be nice’ and where the nearest grocery store is.
The runner is a more than a bit enraptured with Zayn and just nods along. Harry can hear him promise that he'll go personally and be back before the bus is ready to leave. He walks through to the showers, shaking his head. He’s not even surprised that Zayn has another one biting the dust. Those damn eyelashes are unnatural.
At least the runner does have the fact that they all still need to take showers on his side. Harry would hate for him to have to disappoint his crush.
Harry takes his time, his body moving a bit slower than normal. He’s crashing fast, with no big post-show high to ride, but that just means he can sleep on the bus instead of buzzing out of his skin. It also means he takes his time when he finally gets his teeth brushed. It helps, but his mind is playing tricks on him, making him feel like the taste is still lingering.
After the second dose of toothpaste doesn’t do anything, it starts to feel like Harry’s never going to get the taste of sick out of his mouth. He’s about to walk out of the bathroom to see if some mouthwash was put on the rider for this venue when he spots the bottle on the counter next to his toiletry bag. It’s Niall's silly, purple mouthwash that he says he keeps because of his retainer. It’s only a travel bottle and it’s half empty when Harry tosses his head back to gargle. Nevertheless, it does the trick, finally getting rid of the dirty feeling of his mouth and leaving Harry feeling mostly human.
Harry finishes drying off and dresses. His movements are a bit slow, stomach still feeling a bit dodgy and brain a bit muddled. He tells himself it’s the hot water and steam messing with him when he puts his shirt on inside out the first time. Heat and tiredness. Harry finds himself hoping that he’s taken long enough that the rest of the lads are ready to go. The sooner they can get onto the bus, the sooner Harry can crawl into his bunk and go to bed. Maybe in the morning, this night will all be a bad dream and it won’t be true that he missed an entire song because he was puking his brains out.
Sure enough, by the time Harry opens the door and lets out a billow of steam, the dressing room is messy, but everything that was theirs is gone.
"Niall and Liam took everything with them to the bus," Zayn explains when Harry asks where their stuff and half their band disappeared to. "They wanted to get things ready so you can crash when we take off."
Harry doesn't know what there is left to get ready. They've been out on tour long enough that he has everything all situated. All he has to do is strip down, climb in his bunk, and make sure he plugs in his phone. He can’t muster the energy to question Zayn, though. Instead, Harry wraps his arms around his stomach and lets Zayn pull him against his side while Louis leads them through the endless hallways of the venue to the doors that lead to the loading area.
Maybe he’ll get lucky and some ginger ale made it onto the bus.
They pause at the door. Louis’ hand frozen on the handle. Harry can hear the fans still outside at the fence. There must still be crew and maybe some band members milling about because the screams undulate like they only do when a person they’re interested in comes into view.
"Was hoping they'd be gone by now," Zayn says, grimacing at the noise.
That has Harry snorting. "When have the fans ever left before we have?"
“True,” Louis agrees, nodding and tightening his hand on the door. "Ready?"
Harry makes himself straighten and step out from under Zayn’s shoulder, dropping the arm he had wrapped around his belly. Louis waits until his nod before he opens the door.
The sound of screams hit them like a wall. It's nothing they're not used to, but it makes Harry's head ring more than usual. Harry tells himself that it's just the dehydration from vomiting, not even entertaining the thought that it might be anything else.
He still feels bad for missing a song, so he waves at the crowd along the fence, forcing a big smile on his face. He takes one step towards them. He can sneak in a few pics and signatures if he's quick. But before he can take a second step, Zayn throws an arm around his neck and pulls Harry back to his to side.
The screams rise in volume but Harry can still hear Zayn's voice in his ear. "Not going to happen, bro. You're off duty."
"But—"
"Nope,” Zayn pulls at the hem of Harry’s beanie and the screams intensify. “Niall and Liam already did some when they came out with the stuff. Plus, you don't want to risk getting a fan sick, right?"
There’s no arguing with that, so Harry lets himself be guided back in the direction of the bus. He sometimes forgets that Louis isn't the only one who can pull the manipulative card. Zayn just tends to do so with more finesse.
He does make sure to give a few more waves before Zayn and Louis usher him on the bus. They all but duck march him up the stairs and past the driver, the dining area, and the kitchen. He doesn't put up a protest until they walk past the open door of the bunk area and then continue right on past it.
"Um. Guys, my bed?" If the plan is a FIFA tournament, he’s going to just have to throw the match, sportsmanship be damned.
"Don't worry, Haz. We got you," Louis says pushing the button to open the door to the back lounge.
The stupidly high tech door slides open and Harry realizes just what Niall and Liam were getting ready.
The sofas in the back have all been folded down and converted into a bed that wouldn't look out of place it a bad porno. The look is only magnified by the wall of mirrors on the back wall that are supposed to make the place look bigger, but instead they just serve to make Harry think he's seeing things when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye.
Niall and Liam are already in their prefered lounging clothes of shorts and vests. The sheets are in place and it looks like all the bunks have had their pillows commandeered as well as—
"Isn't that the teddy from last night?"
Niall grins. "Yup! The kiddos figured that since they weren't allowed to help, they'd send a cuddle proxy."
Harry gives it a suspicious look before shrugging. There's not much that four dudes could have done to it in less than 24 hours. It should be relatively safe and booby trap free.
"You lads didn't have to do this, you know that right? I can sleep in my bunk." Harry swears he's not eyeballing the bed and measuring it for length. He can’t stretch in the bunks, but he’s pretty sure he could on that bed. There might be a chance of the feet hanging off the edge, but there’s no wall that he’d put them through, at least.
Luckily the boy aren't to be swayed and Harry is once again covered in hands. This time they're gentle, coaxing him out of his shirt, holding him steady so he can toe out of his shoes, carefully taking his beanie off and taking the hair tie out of his still damp hair so it doesn't dry with a horrible, painful kink in it.
Harry's pretty sure there's a joke to be made about how they can't seem to take their hands off of him, but his brain is acting all scrambled and a bit muffled and maybe it wasn't just the sandwich he had for lunch. Or maybe it's just the tour exhaustion catching up with him.
Liam is the one who guides him onto the bed once he's bare from the waist up while Louis and Zayn inch his jeans off his legs, taking his socks with them until he's left in just his pants. Niall gestures from where he's propped up with a pillow next to the huge teddy bear and Harry squirms up the bed until he's situated under the covers with his head pillowed by the teddy and Niall's ribs.
"You guys are going to get bored," Harry points out while Zayn disappears through the door with Louis. Liam sits himself at the end of the bed, pulling Harry's feet into his lap and rubbing at his ankles and arches. Harry manages to not groan, but does push his foot further into Liam’s hands. Liam gets the point and presses harder with his fingers.
"Nah,” Niall shakes his head. “We've got a telly and a whole Harry Potter series to watch."
Harry can't argue with that so he stops trying and lets his eyes drift closed when Niall sinks a hand into his hair and scratches at his scalp.
"Don't fall asleep on us yet, Haz. Lou and Z are getting some stuff for you,” Liam coaxes, running his fingers on the bottom of Harry’s foot in a way the would tickle like crazy if Harry wasn’t so damn tired. “Gotta stay awake until they’re back."
Harry mumbles in acknowledgment and lets himself drift without sinking deeper into sleep. Liam's goes back to massaging his feet and Harry's pretty sure that Niall is tapping out something on his phone, hand still buried in Harry’s damp hair, but it's relaxing. Harry doesn't have to think. He just has to lay down and be taken care of. It makes it easier to ignore the muddled, disconnected feeling of his head and the way his stomach still hasn't settled.
It’s not long before Harry feels the bus start and rumble to life beneath them. It's a comforting feeling so he doesn't mind it. It’s getting to the point where the feeling of being in motion is more at home to him than stillness. The fans screams get louder at first, excitement at something happening coming out in soundwaves as the bus makes the crawl towards the road. The dips of the speed bumps at the lot exit make him clutch at Niall a bit tighter, his stomach flip flopping before settling again.
It always takes a little to get on the main road, people and congestion making for slow going, but soon enough the bus picks up speed and the shouts of fans fade into the distance. They're still making their way through the city when Louis and Zayn come back. The stop and go motion to the bus that can only be explained by stoplights, a sure sign they’re not on the motorway yet.
Both Zayn and Louis have their hands full when Harry finally opens his eyes. Louis with a tray of tea and what looks like every medicine under the sun and Zayn with a steaming bowl in one hand and a plastic bag full of snacks and Gatorade.
“C’mon, babe. Budge up,” Louis prompts and Niall reaches to help him.
It takes more shuffling, but eventually Harry mostly sitting up with a bowl of chicken soup in his lap, a chilled bottle of Gatorade next to his leg, and a handful of tablets and a cup of pink liquid in his hand. "Do I even want to know what these are?" he asks.
Louis is no-nonsense when he replies. "Vitamin C and echinacea to boost your immune system, Pepto for your stomach, and paracetamol for your fever.” Harry opens his mouth but Louis steamrolls right over him. “Yes, you have one, I know clammy and fevered when I see it, Styles, I have four sisters. Now, drink the pink one, swallow the others, and eat the soup Zayn diligently heated over an actual stove top for you."
Harry laughs and looks at Zayn. "You didn't use the microwave?"
Zayn huffs. "'Course not. Takes the magic out of it if you listen to what my mum says."
Harry nods. That makes sense. And even if it didn't, he's not going to be the one who argues with what Trisha Malik has to say.
He takes the medicine and manages to get about half the soup down before his stomach starts to twist again. He hands the bowl back to Zayn with a thanks and a smile. Zayn takes it with him through the door, probably to put it in the sink.
With his food eaten, the others relax their gazes on him, making small talk instead of studying the way every spoonful makes its way from bowl to mouth. Harry lets their conversation float around him as sips at his tea. The first taste confirms to him that Louis was the one who made it. He always makes it strong, lets the tea steep the longest out of all of them. Normally, it's impossible to get him to add sugar without a telling about how it ruins a perfectly good cuppa but this time it's slightly sweet with the hint of milk Harry prefers. It's perfect and makes Harry wish he felt better so he could enjoy it more. Although, he suspects that if he wasn't feeling like crap, he wouldn’t be getting the sugar without a battle.
Liam's putting the first DVD in the player and passing out the snacks when Zayn comes back. He has a large, empty bowl in his hands that he tucks on the ledge behind Harry with a, "Just in case," before he settles in behind Niall. Louis has already claimed the prime viewing spot on Harry's other side and Liam settles in behind him with the remote and his own thing of Gatorade.
There's a moment after Liam presses play and after they're all settled in that Harry is overcome with unbearable fondness for these four boys. Even though it’s inconveniencing them, even though they're all but guaranteed to get sick if Harry is wrong and it's not food poisoning, even though there are a million and a half other things they could be doing rather than playing nurse, they are all four here and going out of their way to take care of him.
In that moment, Harry loves them all so much that his chest actual tightens and his eyes start to water.
Louis is the first one to notice, he almost always is, and he's quick to take the mug out of Harry's trembling hands. He sets it on the sill next to the empty bin and and pull Harry against his chest so that Harry's cheek is against the soft worn cotton of his shirt. Niall immediately follows the movement and presses against his back. There is only a half second pause before Liam and Zayn copy them, hands reaching out, pressing warm palms against Harry's ribs and shoulder. It feels like they’re keeping him from floating away into the fuzziness of his head. It’s like they're anchoring him in these sea of comfort that they are surrounding him with.
"Thanks, you guys," he manages to work out. His tongue feels too big for his mouth again and the words are all clogged in his throat, but he knows that they’re not necessary with these four boys.
He doesn't need them. The five of them don't. They’re past all of that.
Louis pulls him tighter, leaves a kiss in his hair. Niall squirms closer, nose nudging the back of Harry's neck like a puppy. Liam's hand tightens momentary on his shoulder and Zayn's fingers tap three times on his ribs, one for each of the unneeded words.
That's how Harry falls asleep, on the road to another city to perform another show, surrounded by the four boys who would do anything for him, whether it be grabbing his solo when he has to run off stage or feeding him soup and tea. Four boys who care about him even if he's puking his guts out.
Harry doesn't know if he'll still be feeling sick when he wakes up tomorrow, but really, it doesn't matter, because in the end, he'll be alright.
They'll make sure of it.