The song for this chapter is Between The Bars - Elliott Smith.

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Celeste

I felt as if I was levitating beyond the realms of what we know as the universe.

My body felt as light as a feather, my soul ascending well above my conscious human vessel.

At that moment I felt completely free of any past pain or hurt that I may have experienced previously. I was excelling and surpassing any barriers that had restricted me before in my feeble and pathetic human state.

I felt infinite.

I couldn't comprehend anything that had happened to get me to this moment of ultimate divinity, nor did I want to. I didn't want my questioning to shatter the perfect state that I had found myself in.

"Celeste."

The mention of my name caused me to want to open my eyes and locate the source of the words that were trying their hardest to shatter my peaceful reverie. However, my eyes appeared to be cemented close and my body refused to cooperate with the task of waking up. I allowed myself to continue to float in my peaceful version of limbo, my body floating and floating but not necessarily getting higher in the realm. The silence, for once, wasn't loud or causing me to feel uncomfortable; it was welcomed, it was blissful.

"Celeste, please wake up."

The voice sounded desperate that time, it had undercurrents of sadness and desperation. I wanted so badly to reach out and take the hand of the familiar voice that was ringing through my ears. I tried to extend my arm out to reach into the nothingness that engulfed me but I couldn't. My arms were cemented directly at my sides as I continued to levitate and transcend.

"Baby, I need you."

The words hit me like a knife to the chest.

I didn't know who they belonged to but the familiarity coursed through my veins and caused a desperation pit to unfold in my stomach. This was making me agitated; I tried to open my mouth and speak but nothing came. I screamed inwardly, hoping that the noise translated into the world beyond the one I was currently in.

I continued to float.

Without any form of warning, flashes of a gunfight occupied my vision. The sounds of gunshots infiltrated my hearing, the noises ricocheting around me in a frenzy. Visions of a man cradling me in his arms and telling me to hold on penetrated my sight. The man was recognizable but I couldn't decipher who he was.

"Celeste, if you can hear me, Harry is here."

Harry.

The words echoed around my brain as I got a visual of Harry in my sight. His curly brown hair that fell around his chiselled features, his piercing green eyes, his charismatic grin.

Harry was there.

I needed to get to Harry.

My eyes shot open instantaneously, my irises trying their hardest to focus on the surroundings around me. Lime green walls and dim lighting consumed me as I took an inhalation of breath and almost vomited at what smell consumed my senses.

Bleach.

I was in a hospital.

I felt fingers press into my skin as I turned my head slightly to see Zayn and Niall sat on one side of my hospital bed, Zayn's fingers intertwined with mine as he stared at me with a look of disbelief and relief combined. I turned my head to the other side of my bed to see Harry and André sat there with an expressionless look on their features. Harry's frame was tense, his jaw was clenched as he continuously rubbed his thumb across his lower lip. His eyes were unreadable; I knew that there was so much going on behind them that would never be deciphered.

At the foot of my bed was a woman and a man that I didn't recognise; the woman bored a striking resemblance to Zayn, they shared the same facial features but her eyes were more feline. The man that accompanied her was tall with an olive complexion, his mid-length brown hair tied up in a bun at the nape of his neck. He was Italian.

"Celeste? Can you speak?"

The words came from Zayn who was rubbing circles on my hand in a methodically soothing manner, his voice soft yet laced with absolute worry. I turned my focus back on him as I took in his anxious manner and state; I felt a strange feeling of guilt and empathy rise from the pit of my stomach as I observed him.

"I can speak."

My voice sounded foreign, hoarse, and croaky. I furrowed my eyebrows at the sound of my own voice, feeling an overwhelming feeling of uncertainty waver through my body at the current predicament I'd found myself in. I turned my attention back to Harry who hadn't moved an inch since I first opened my eyes. All of them, apart from Zayn, had remained completely silent since I'd woke up; I couldn't clarify how long they'd been there, or if they'd been silent the entire time, but I instantly knew that something wasn't right by the tense atmosphere that was engulfing me. I tried to extend my hand out to Harry but was instantly halted by a sharp burning feeling coursing through my right side. I groaned out in excruciating agony as my eyes closed at the feeling that was consuming me, Harry's hand instantly shooting out and clasping on mine as he sat forward in his seat.

"Don't try and move too much. Your right side is going to be in pain for some time whilst you're healing."

His words left his lips in a soothing and soft manner, the exact opposite to his composure and posture prior. I nodded once in response as he kept his hand clasped in mine, the clamminess a warm welcome of familiarity at that moment.

"Do you remember what happened, Celeste?" Niall questioned, the rigidness of his posture indicating to me that none of them was tolerating what had occurred in the lot when the gunfire started.

"I remember perfectly," I responded, venom lacing my hoarse and croaky response as much as it could.

Niall nodded once in response and settled back in his seat with his arms folded across his chest; the atmosphere was making me feel claustrophobic, the air was tightening around me as I laid immobilised in the bed and surrounded by people hiding truths.

"Is someone going to tell me what the fucks going on or are we all going to sit here in silence in my wakening moments?"

My voice had managed to clear itself of its prior hoarseness and instability, allowing my words to project in my desired manner. The woman's head at the foot of the bed snapped up instantly at my harsh and angry tone, her feline-like eyes narrowing at me as she stepped out from the foot of the bed and made her way next to Niall. The tapping of her heels echoed around the room, a harsh contrast to the previous silence.

"You were shot as I'm sure you so graciously remember. Whilst you've been playing Sleeping Beauty in this hospital bed, we've been running around trying to find clues on who set you up. I'd like to take the time to thank you ever so much for your cooperation in all of this."

Who the fuck is this bitch?

Zayn snapped his head towards the mystery woman at the side of the bed, his eyes instantly glaring directly at her as he started to say, "Shut the fuck up Cora or I swea-."

I pinched his skin that was still clasped into my hand as an order to shut up whilst I locked my gaze directly on the woman I now knew as Cora and responded, "I would love to apologise for my inability to participate in whatever mission that you all collectively decided to partake in whilst I was unconscious from a gunshot wound, Cora. Please, don't feel the need to stay here on my behalf. You can leave any time you like, I can assure you that you will not be missed."

A quiet chuckle left Harry's lips at my response to Cora's statement, causing Cora's eyes to narrow even further as she remained silent at the side of the bed. The mystery man at the foot of the bed cleared his throat to speak as he leaned forward, his hands on the railing.

"Do excuse me, Celeste. I'm Matteo, an associate of your friends here who I've been working with to try and figure out who set you up. I feel like I'm not the best person to be breaking this news to you but we've managed to secure a lead."

I averted my attention to Matteo, my eyes fixating on his features as I took in the only decent response I'd managed to acquire. I nodded as an invite for him to continue which he did.

"We attended your fathers annual luncheon in hopes of being able to solidify a solid lead. Harry and Cora engaged in conversation with him, to which he questioned Harry on your whereabouts as you haven't returned home. Harry played oblivious to prevent suspicion on your fathers front. He was then pulled away from the conversation by the arrival of a couple under the alias of the Lucrezzá's. Does that name sound familiar to you?"

Is shook my head in response, the atmosphere in the room once again turning claustrophobic as nobody in the room chimed in to add their contributions to Matteo's version of events.

"We managed to solidify that the couple whom your father was conversing with after his interaction with Harry and Cora couldn't have been the Lucrezzá'a as the actual Lucrezzá's were assassinated by a hit that has been speculated to have came from your father. Cora and Harry discovered that the woman was wearing a wig, concealing her true identity. I need you to think really hard about this Celeste, who is in your fathers immediate circle with a tainted reputation that would be required to be concealed. We have our speculations and conspiracies but your knowledge is far more valuable than anything that we have came up with as outsiders."

I turned my attention to Harry once I'd taken in everything that Matteo had told me, my expression unreadable as I connected irises with Harry. His green eyes were searching mine as he slightly tightened his grip on my hand in a comforting manner. I was unsure whether or not it was my weakened and fragile state from my injuries, but the concept of what Matteo had said being the truth was causing my head to spin and my stomach to sink. I took a few deep inhales and exhales of breath in an attempt to compose myself before turning my attention back to Matteo.

I had the answers.

I had them all.

I just didn't want to have to acknowledge that they were truth.

"There are several people who my Papa associates with that have tainted reputations and plenty unredeemable qualities that would yearn a need for his protection. There is only one whom I would deem a close associate though and that's Lana's mother and father; the reason we've always been close is due to our fathers friendship. I can't tell you why they would be behind the ambush though, as far as I'm aware Lana is clueless to her family business."

Zayn instantly tensed at the side of me as he processed everything that I said, his jaw instantly tensing as he sat back in his chair as he kept ahold of my other hand. Harry remained fully silent and emotionless at the side of me, his gaze focused on anything other than the scene that was unfolding in front of him. Cora was the first to clear her throat and speak up, one hand on her hip and the other on the back of Niall's chair as she delivered her piece.

"Just because it's a possibility that Lana's mother and father are the people behind the fake alias doesn't mean that they're at the forefront of the ambush. If you claim that there's no motive for them to go through with the hit then we need to do everything we can to try and find a motive. If we can't then we need to go back to square one and find another lead."

Zayn shook his head from his position on the chair, keeping his gaze fixated on the bed as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. He began to trace his usual circles on my skin as he responded, "Going back to square one will do us no good. Antoni is far too good and advanced in what he does to leave blatant clues in front of us. Lana's mother and father weren't planted at that luncheon on chance, just like Antoni asking Harry about Celeste wasn't a casual flow of conversation. Antoni planned it all. It's been orchestrated. There's a motive that we're unaware of and it all intertwines into one web."

I nodded several times at Zayn's statement, my brain swimming with the new information that had been unloaded onto me in my waking moments. I solidified Zayn's theory by saying, "Zayn's right. My Papa is far too involved in everything that he does to even contemplate being blatant in his work. If he is behind the ambush at the lot then he's working with someone and it would make perfect sense for it to be Lana's parents. Lana could be being used as a pawn in all of this without any knowledge of what's really going on. We need to be smart and not impulsive because I know that he's fifteen steps ahead of us right now."

André suddenly chimed in from his spot at the side of me next to Harry with, "Lana didn't appear to be any sort of threat or danger that night that Celeste stabbed that man on the dance floor in Sinners. I really don't think that she possesses the capability to be willingly an accomplice to something as deep as this."

I nodded at André's observation, adjusting myself slightly in my bed with a wince at the sharp pain that coursed through my body. Cora walked over to the head of my bed and adjusted the pillows behind my back to a more comfortable position, earning a confused glance from both Zayn and Niall. I nodded at her once, which she silently returned, before she descended back to the foot of the bed and proceeding to sit on it.

"We still can't rule out Lana fully, despite your statements of incompetence. We can put her on the back burner but we still need to approach with caution. What we need to do right now is focus on getting Celeste fully healed so that we can continue this together. Without your knowledge, Celeste, we're not at as much of an advantage."

I knew that in her own twisted way Cora was offering a form of truce for whatever she had held against me prior to our meeting, which I made a mental note to ask the boys about when we were alone. I nodded in response to her before lifting both of my hands from Harry and Zayn's grasp and running my fingers through my hair. despite the pain that was coursing through my system. I tried to ignore the factor that all eyes were on me at that moment, that each person that surrounded me was depending on me to get better so that we could get to the bottom of the ambush and the hit on me that took place. A part of me was grateful that they had taken it upon themselves to try and locate the reasoning behind the ambush but a part of me was also engulfed with rage at the fact that they had infiltrated my Papa's luncheon to try and pinpoint him as the culprit. I knew that it wasn't a leap for them to instantly put the blame on him, he had his own reputation to blame for that, but it was a blow to the chest that Harry and my Papa had a relationship prior to this that Harry seemed determined to maintain.

Why would Harry accept the position at Haze if he believed my Papa to be such a cold and calculated person that was capable of orchestrating a hit on his own daughter?

I knew that my thoughts were potentially irrational; Harry had no logical reason to be against my Papa to my knowledge but that didn't stop the feelings of suspicion from creeping through my veins. There was something about this situation that I'd found myself in that felt odd and sudden.

How could they not consider that the ambush and hit may have been a simple act of revenge from The Young Knives in response to our drug heist?

Just as I was about to spiral further into my own mind that was full of potential conspiracy theories, I was snapped out of my own thoughts by André speaking up again from the side of me.

"I'm going to go on a coffee run, would you like one?"

I smiled slightly in his direction and nodded in response to whilst saying, "Yes, please. Americano."

He nodded and stood up from his seat before making his way over to the door, Matteo following closely behind him as they exited the room. Harry shifted from his previous seat to André's now unoccupied one. He absentmindedly lifted his hand to my hair and began to thread his fingers through it; something that was unusual for him yet extremely welcomed at that moment. Silence filled the room once more but this time it wasn't uncomfortable, it was a silence that I was grateful for instead of my head being consumed with the various different theories that were bouncing between us earlier. I settled back into the bed and into the rhythmic feeling of Harry's fingers threading through my hair when Cora spoke up from the end of the bed.

"Are you in any pain, Celeste?"

I flickered my gaze to her and responded in a tired tone, "Yes. I can't tell you how much though because I haven't attempted to stand up."

She stood up from the end of the bed and adjusted her black leather jacket that was hanging off her shoulders, her long brain hair cascading down her back as she shifted her position. A genuine smile formed on the corners of her lips as she stood with her hand on her hip once again; a mannerism that I was beginning to think was her signature pose.

"I think you need something stronger than a hospital Americano from a vending machine."

A smirk etched onto my lips as I connected my irises with hers.

"I think I do too."