Purge (Larry Stylinson au)

Chapter 11

Warning: this next chapter gets kind of violent. Don't read it if it makes you uncomfortable pls <3

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"Harry-"

"Don't talk."

"Harry, I'm sure he's-"

"Shut up, Ella."

"Harry please."

"I said be quiet!"

Ella closes her mouth, hurt flashing through her eyes. They've been walking for nearly and hour and Harry hasn't said anything. He's worried sick about Louis and the other boys. The further they get from the fighting, the more he regrets leaving.

Ella's just trying to calm him, to comfort him and tell him it's going to be okay. Harry knows that, but he really can't stand to listen to her optimism right now.

He walks in the front of their little group, pistol drawn. He holds it in both hands, aimed at the ground, but the safety is off and he's ready to shoot anything that moves at a moment's notice. He walks with his shoulders hunched, head down and hair hanging in his face. His gaze is hard and intimidating, sharp green eyes scanning their surroundings for anything that could pose as a potential threat.

He's become a soldier again.

The past few months, he hasn't been one. He's been a father, a refugee, a wanderer, and a vigil, but he hasn't had to be a soldier yet. Now all those years on missions have come right back to him, muscle memory taking over and guiding him through the forest with his weapon drawn.

He had given Paul his other pistol, telling him to stay at the back and shoot anything that moves. Paul is taking his duty very seriously, and Harry's honestly proud of him. He had taught the older man how to shoot a gun a few days after he had met him. Paul had gotten fairly decent pretty quickly, but he still wouldn't be able to hold his own in an actual battle yet. Still, it was better than nothing.

Stan, Sara, and Ella walk in between the two men; Stan and Sara on either side of Ella. They've all subconsciously surrounded her since she's the one carrying Darcy. The group's natural instinct is to protect the baby, and Harry's grateful for that. Darcy's the only reason he's here now instead of fighting the troopers with Louis.

He knows that Louis was right. Harry is Darcy's only source of food. She can't be in a battle, and if anything were to happen to him, or if they were to get separated, Darcy could die. He knows that it's his job as her father to protect her and to stay with her, but he wishes he didn't have to leave Louis to do so.

They walk for a few more minutes until Darcy starts to whine. They'd just gotten her to calm down from the sounds of gunshots an hour earlier and Harry groans, running a hand across his face.

"Not right now, love, please we have to keep going," he pleads, turning to look at his daughter. Ella bounces her gently, but it does little to dissuade her sobs. She's clearly hungry – that's usually the only reason she ever cries.

"Fine, give her here," Harry relents, holstering his pistol. Ella unstraps Darcy from her chest and hands her over gently to Harry. Harry lifts his shirt but doesn't take it all the way off like usual. He holds Darcy with one arm and lets her latch onto him. With his free hand, he draws his weapon again, still holding it readily beside him.

Darcy starts to feed hungrily, but Harry knows it'll be a while before she's full. She's a slow eater, just like Louis. Usually he finds it endearing. Usually he enjoys the feeling of her sucking and drinking his milk until he runs dry. Usually it makes him feel like a good parent; it makes him feel connected to his baby in a beautiful way, but right now, he doesn't have time for it, and he just wants her to finish.