Purge (Larry Stylinson au)

Chapter 12

Darcy's still crying, her heartbreaking sobs sounding loud through the darkness. Sara's crying too, but silently as she cradles the baby against her chest and looks down at Stan, who lies unconscious on the ground.

"Harry," Ella breathes, relieved. She wraps Harry into a tight hug, and he melts into her embrace.

"Are you okay?" she asks as they pull apart.

"Define 'okay'," Harry sighs. Ella smirks, that being the only confirmation she needs that yes, physically he'll be fine.

He hunches a little into himself as he limps over to Paul who's looking guiltily at the ground.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I wanted to help, but the gun got jammed and before that I wasn't sure I wouldn't hit you. I should've have gone over to pull him off of you-"

"You did wonderfully, Paul," Harry says. "I felt better knowing you were here with the others because you had a weapon. If anyone else had shown up, I would have wanted you to protect them, not me."

Paul nods but he still looks shaken. Harry doesn't blame him.

He moves over to where Sara's kneeling next to Stan. She looks up at him and they exchange silent messages. She reaches up and undoes the blanket holding Darcy against her. Gently, she cradles the wailing baby and hands her over to Harry.

Harry takes her in his arms, supporting her head in the crook of his elbow. "Hello, baby girl," he whispers, stroking Darcy's cheek with one of his fingers. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. Shhh... you can calm down now. I'm right here. It's okay, I'm right here."

At the sound of her papa's voice Darcy's sobbing subsides. She opens her watery eyes and looks up at Harry, sniffling her little baby sniffles. Harry dries her wet cheeks with the corner of her blanket.

"Hello, my darling," he coos softly. "You're alright, love."

Eventually, she calms down entirely, nuzzling her little body against his chest. His heart warms as his baby sighs a tiny sigh, nestled in the crook of his arm.

"I'm never going to let anyone hurt you, Darcy," he promises her. "I'm going to protect you with my life, and I'll never stop until the day I die."

Darcy, of course, doesn't understand any of this. She just gives a tiny yawn, little arms stretching above her head as her tiny hands ball into fists. She doesn't sleep though. She just looks up at him with her big blue eyes, gurgling when he smiles down at her.

With one arm, he holds her close to his chest, but he turns his attention to Stan, lying on the ground before him.

"What happened to him exactly?" he asks the others.

"He was fighting one of the troopers," Ella explains. "His arms got pinned behind his back and when he tried to pull away the was an awful snapping sound and his arm broke. Then he passed out, probably from the pain."

She gestures down to his right arm, painfully bent at an odd angle. Harry sighs. He hates splinting broken bones. Blood, cuts, gashes, and bullet and stab wounds he has no problem with, but broken bones make him nauseous for some reason.

He knows he has to do something though. He's the only one medically trained enough to help him.

"Ella, hold Darcy," he instructs, handing his baby off to the young woman. Darcy goes happily, gurgling up at Ella with a slobbery smile. Ella gives her a small smile back and holds her close to her chest.

"I'm going to splint it," Harry says, trying to steady his breathing. "It'll be better to do while he's unconscious. He won't feel it, hopefully."

He looks around them for two tree branches of equal length, and eventually finds them. They're thick enough that he won't have to worry about them breaking, but thin enough that they won't be uncomfortable. Then he takes his knife and cuts up a part of Stan's shirt, making three long strips of fabric.