redemption: harry styles

Chapter Seventy Nine (OPTION 2)

One in particular made Harry freeze in his spot. He stared emotionlessly into the room, then hurriedly closed the door, blinking in a rush before moving through the other doorways. He walked over to me once checking all of the rooms.

"He's not here," Harry huffed, his voice laced with frustration. He rubbed his face and strode towards the stairs. "Dammit, Niall, where--"

A clang, and Harry jerked back as a bullet hit him right an inch under the collarbone and just below his left rib cage.

I shrieked and rushed over to him just as he raised his gun and fired three times. The sound of a body falling didn't concern me as I sunk to my knees in front of him, tears already rushing down my cheeks.

"Oh, God, oh, God, Harry." My hands shook watching him clench his jaw in pain, moving to lean against the wall. "W-what do you w-want me to d-do?" I uttered, grabbing his hand.

"Go," he whispered. Shock filled me as he pulled the gun up again, clicking something into place. "I'll hold them off. Hide something. Maybe you can--"

"Shut up," I whispered, closing my eyes, "just, stop. Don't be an idiot. I'm not going anywhere without you, alright?" He opened his mouth but I beat him to it. "No, I-I'll take you to one of the rooms? I don-"

"The basement," Harry murmured, eyelashes fluttering. "We can...hold them off until the others...arrive."

"Okay," I repetitively whispered under my breaths. "Okay, okay."

I slipped my arm under his and around his waist, helping him stand. He grunted in pain but other than that showed no sign that he was just shot twice. He kept one hand on the wall, leaving a long but faint smear of blood, the other slung limply around my shoulders.

"You're gonna be okay...right?" I asked foolishly, keeping my fight tight. "You've survived gunshots before, babe." I closed my eyes for a moment, knowing I won't ever forget this moment--his arm around me, mine around him; in an abandoned house; lost with two dead and possibly another; his scent and blood filling my senses; his warmth unable to comfort me this one time. I bit my lip to prevent making any sounds, but I silently cried even though I knew that this was nothing compared to the wounds Harry has suffered in his life.

"You're--" I grunted as we reached the end of the stairs and he leaned into me a little too hard that I stumbled, "--stronger than anyone I've ever known."

"Of course I am, baby," he chuckled. "This--it's just a flesh wound, you don't need to worry about me."

I maneuvered Harry toward the back of the house, turning into a hallway where a door stood. I left Harry leaning against a wall, his chin raised, and opened the door before helping him inside.

"There's stairs," I said with a sniff, managing to hold myself together, "and it's dark."

"I can handle a little uneven flooring," Harry joked but I couldn't find it in me to even fake a giggle so I just hugged him tighter as we half moved, half tripped down the staircase, leaving the door open. I mentioned the consequences to Harry but he told me that I'll just close it after I set him down somewhere.

We reached the last step and I moved him across the ground. He began to drag his own feet, weighing me down but I quickly heaved him into a corner and carefully placed him on the ground. He put a tattooed hand to the wall as he helped himself, and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Please don't do that, I'll start panicking," I said, holding a strong seriousness to my voice.

"Sorry," he smirked.

I stood over him for a long minute, watching him take off his shirt and hold it to his wounds. My eyes gazed at his tattoos, and the blood drying up on his skin. I held back the tears. He looked fine.