One Direction Sickfics

Harry- for masteroftimeandbooks

"Where's Harry?"

Liam, Louis and I all shrugged. None of us had any idea where he was. We'd tried texting, calling, we even checked the car park, but we couldn't find him.
"We don't know," I replied.

"Well, have you tried to get a hold of him?" The man in the fancy suit questioned bluntly, as if we were stupid.
Louis scoffed and rolled his eyes, "yes, Bart, we have."

"Hey, there he is!" Liam chirped, waving animatedly. Sure enough, Harry had appeared in the doorway looking a little worse for wear. Bart turned briskly on his heel and roughly clapped Harry on the back as he shoved him into position beside the rest of us. It probably wasn't as rough as he made it look, but Harry seemed weaker today, less like his usual self. His face was pale and drawn and there were bags the colour of storm clouds obvious beneath his shot eyes.
"Finally thought to join us Styles." Bert smiled cynically,

"Sorry, I was just in the bathroom," Harry replied, keeping his gaze toward the floor.

From beside me, Louis tugged my arm and nodded in Harry's direction with a questioning look. I shrugged, frowning. Maybe he was sick.

Bart clapped his hands, "righty then lads, are we ready to get started now then?"

To begin, Bart and the other producers wanted to try do some parts all together in the booth, so we trailed behind the crew to where we needed to be. I lagged behind, next to Harry, and nudged his shoulder lightly, "you okay man?"

Harry blinked, looking shocked that he'd been spoken to. He glanced at me wearily and then his shoulders slumped, "yeah, I think I'm just a bit out of it today. Been tough sleeping with all the partying happening beside my place and I think I'm coming down with something."

"I hate to say it, but you don't look very good," I said, my eyebrows etched together. "Have you been around to tell the neighbours off?"
"They're just kids, doing what kids do. I'll get used to it," Harry murmured. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, obviously not done that morning, and the pulled his sleeves down over his hands with a light clear of his throat.
"That's not fair Haz, what are you going to do until then? Because I don't think you can last much longer like this. How much sleep did you get last night?" I asked, beginning to worry. It really looked like he hadn't had any at all.

"I don't think I got any," Harry whimpering, only proving my worries to be warranted. Poor guy, I wouldn't even be semi functional on no sleep and here he was supposedly about to record for the whole day.

"And you're not feeling well?"
"No. . ." Harry shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear careless, "I'll be okay for today though, I promise. I'm only feeling kind of rough around the edges, it's nothing too bad."
"Hazza. . ."

"Oi! You two, you're lagging behind. Hurry it up!" Bart yelled, hanging off of the booth door at the end of the hall.

"Come on then Ni, guess we're too slow for Bart's liking." Harry grinned. It was noticeably forced and I muttered under my breath to myself as Harry pulled me after Bart, "nothing we do is to Bart's liking."

We'd been in the studio a lot over the past few weeks, organising another album as best we could. Writing was practically over thankfully, it was always the hardest part, but now we actually had to learn all these new songs and get them recorded. First, Bart had us go through the entire album once. No pauses, no feedback, just one long recording that included every song.

Then the band got a break while the producers listened to it all and picked out all the parts that needed working on. We were sent back to the break room where thankfully someone had been to set out food.