salute [h.s]

chapter 23 - redemptive resolutions & twofold transparency

Piper hadn't known that so many emotions could exist equally in one person at the same time in such extremes. She had an overwhelming feeling of relief and joy knowing that Harry was safe and wasn't dead somewhere halfway across the world. The panic that had been swirling around in her mind was quashed at just the sight of him. Battling with that relief was furious rage that he'd been here this whole time without telling her, letting her worry agonizingly about where he was. Below that, existing at a base level and filling every space of her was a deep hurt.

Harry had broken the one promise he'd always sworn to keep. He'd told her that he'd always contact her to let her know he was home safe, no matter what their situation was. When the promise had been put to the test, he let it be broken.

The slap had been instinct. There was just so much building inside her that needed a release and despite beating the shit out of a heavy bag for most of the afternoon, she found herself using a physical outlet for her emotional pain.

And it had felt good. Sure, her hand stung like hell but she'd taken some sort of perverse delight in the sound of it on Harry's skin, at the redness that cropped up on his pale cheek, at the way his head jerked sideways. She hoped it hurt. She hoped it hurt him the way he'd hurt her.

She hadn't been intending to hit him again but after that first slap, the satisfying release of frustration and anxiety and gut-wrenching worry, her hands took on a mind of their own and she was slapping them against the bare flesh of his chest, his arms, anywhere she could reach. She wanted him to stop her, to yell at her, to do something, but he just sat there and took it. Like he thought he deserved it. Like he knew he had done something wrong.

"How could you?!" she screamed in his face. He flinched ever so slightly but kept his lips pressed shut, refusing to speak. "You know what it does to me! You know what a wreck I am when you're away!"

Harry remained eerily silent, watching her with wide eyes. The pale green made her heart ache and she hated that so she gave him a hard shove. She felt Niall's hand on her shoulder. "Pips, stop."

"You idiot!" she screamed at Harry. Piper ignored Niall's admonishment and landed a particularly hard, closed-fist blow to Harry's chest that actually made him wheeze a bit. "Did you do this to get back at me? Thought you'd teach me a lesson? Are you honestly that cruel, Harry?"

"Piper, that's enough," Niall barked at her, attempting to push her away from Harry. She dodged him and landed another blow on Harry's chest. Except this time, it was a little too close to the big bruise forming around his severely dislocated shoulder and Harry actually yelped, shying away from her. The blood rushed from her face and her arms dropped to her side uselessly.

"I —"

She didn't get a chance to finish her thought because Niall had bent and caught her in the stomach, lifting her up onto his shoulder. She immediately began to struggle, kicking and waving her arms, but he was relentless. He walked over the threshold of the doorway and dumped her onto her feet on the other side of the glass walls of his surgery. Before she could collect herself, he'd stepped back in and shut the door behind him, sliding the lock in place with a click.

"Hey!" Piper yelled as she began beating on the glass wall with her fist. "I wasn't done."

"Yes, you were," Niall snapped back, giving her a dirty look over his shoulder as he crossed back over to where Harry was sitting on the exam table, cradling his injured arm by the elbow.

Piper did feel bad for that last hit. If dislocations were anything like being shot, then they fucking hurt. She knew how bad it was to have a healing injury re-wounded. Being hit by her must have caused Harry a substantial amount of pain if he'd let it show externally. She never wanted to cause Harry pain.