Idiosyncrasy (Harry Styles AU)
Chapter 27
Chapter 27
The room around me has turned from mellow and fun to chaotic in just seconds. I watch the sanity of the crowd crumble in front of my eyes, and suddenly the lights go out, emitting a scream from my throat. I have no idea what’s going on.
The shot came out of nowhere, hitting Harry and knocking him to the ground. I don’t know whether he’s alive or dead at this moment, and the pitch black darkness of the room doesn’t make finding him any easier.
The crowd around me screams and blocks me from getting down from the stage. I can barely see him, lying motionless beside the stage. Since its dark I can’t see how much he’s bleeding.
I shove my way through the crowd, but only manage to get knocked down. A few more shots ring through the air and I cover my head, getting back down on my knees.
Screams of pain and agony ring through the air, and I fight down the panic rising in my throat. I have to get to Harry.
I crawl on my hands and knees, squinting through the darkness at the place where Harry had been two seconds ago.
But he’s gone. He’s completely disappeared.
I straighten myself up and wildly look around for Harry. I stumble around tables and panicking people to where he had been lying only minutes before.
A dark spot stains the floor, and I reach out my hand to touch it, fingers coming in contact with a sticky substance.I gasp and quickly retract my hand.
Hearing a sniffing sound, I look up and spot Harry curled up in a ball in a dark corner, rocking back and forth and mumbling incoherent things under his breath.
I gasp, seeing a similar dark stain soaking the left side of his shirt to the one on the floor in front of me.
The lights flicker on and off, and I can just barely see that the bullet has only hit him in the shoulder. Relief floods over me, but just as soon as I thought everything was okay, Harry moved his arm and I saw blood trickling down the side of it.
Panic gripped my chest and I knew I had to get the both of us out of here soon. Me; because I was on the verge of a fucking panic attack, and Harry; because he was on the verge of dying.
“Harry.”
He stops mumbling briefly to glare up at me. His eyes flash with anger, warning me to stay away.
“Don’t touch me.” His voice is low and raspy, scaring me a little. If I didn’t know him better, I would have turned and ran.
His walls have been put up again and the fear and memories have filled his head. He’s back to his old self again.
Tears prick the back of my eyes. “You’re hurt, Harry.” I manage to choke out.
In more ways than one.
The room behind us is slowly quieting down; most of the people have gone besides the ones who are lying dead around us.
He ignores me, squeezing his eyes shut and continuing to mumble things.
He’s too deep in his own mind to hear from the real world anymore. It shatters my heart because I don’t know how to get through to him again.
I creep closer.
The bullet seems to have gone in deep, and he’s losing blood fast. Half his shirt is soaked, and its beginning to pool on the floor beside him. He’s trembling uncontrollably, breathing erratically.
Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I take in his pitiful appearance.
Just as I crouch down by his side, he screams as if he’s been stabbed, jumping away from me. He’s like a frightened animal. That’s exactly what he’s like.
But the real Harry isn’t like this. He’s part of my world. He’s not stuck in his own mind, slowly breaking apart piece by piece from loneliness. No, the real Harry is who I fell in love with.
I’ve fallen in love with Harry.
He sobs, groaning from the pain he’s experiencing. He’s getting weak, I can tell. His skin is ghostly pale and his eyes are a dull black color. Blood is incessantly dripping down the side of his arm at an alarming rate.
“B-b-b-bring me back, B-Beth,” he whispers pathetically, his eyes finally meeting mine again. They’ve lost their ferocity, and some of the beautiful green is seeping back into them, so I feel safe enough to sit in front of him.
I take his face in my hands, staring into the eyes I’ve grown to love so much.
“Let me help you, Harry,” I whisper back.
He nods slowly, showing signs of fatigue. He’s tired of fighting me.
I lean forward to kiss his cheek tentatively, and then run a hand through his disheveled curls.
“Harry, you’ve been shot in the shoulder,” I tell him quietly, chewing my lip as I examine the wound. It looks terrible from what I can see through his blood soaked shirt.
“I’m insane, not fucking painless,” he says, faint humor in his pained eyes. He exhaustedly rests his head on the wall behind him.
I have to work fast if I want to save him.
Thinking quickly, I rip the hem off his shirt and wrap it around him tightly as an attempt to stop the bleeding for now.
Harry shakes his head. “That won’t hold for long,” he whispers weakly.
“Hopefully as long as it takes to get to the hospital. Can you stand?”
He squeezes his eyes shut, pushing his good arm underneath himself. “I can try.”
I help him as best I can, and miraculously, he’s standing. I sling his good arm over my shoulder and help him walk through the bar and out to my car.
Just as I get him in, more gunshots sound and I duck as they whiz by our heads.
“Get in!” Harry shouts, shoving me inside with some of the remaining strength he possesses.
I fumble for my car keys and shove them in the ignition. I step on the accelerator, telling Harry to stay down.
Bullets continue to fly at us, and my back windshield shatters.
I swerve around several cars with blaring horns, silently apologizing for my reckless driving. I’ve never driven like this in my life, and I don’t plan on ever doing it again.
I glance in the rear-view mirror and gasp as I spot a black range rover racing after us.
“Why are they following us?!” I shriek rhetorically. “Why do they want us?!”
“They want me,” Harry mumbles beside me.
“What?!”
He’s silent.
“Harry! What the hell’s going on?!”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me!”
“Later!” he shouts, wincing. “I’ll tell you later.” He’s ghostly pale, and the blood from his shoulder is beginning to stain the seat he’s sitting in.
I hit the steering wheel, sighing.
“How are you holding up?” I ask, running a red light with a groan.
His chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace, as if he can’t breathe correctly. “Alright. Now keep your eyes on the road.”
As we near the hospital, the car behind us slows down, and temporary relief floods me.
“Hurry, Bethany,” Harry whispers weakly.
I glance at him, then take his hand. “I am, Harry. We’re almost there.”
A few minutes later, we finally reach the hospital and I realize the car behind us has disappeared.
I want an explanation, but obviously it’s going to have to wait.
And as I wait for the “okay” to go in to see Harry, I wonder what all that was. Why did Harry say they were after him? Who are “they” anyway? Could the death of Sandy and the attempt at Harry’s life be connected?
“Ms. Carol?”
I look up, meeting the eyes of a young female doctor.
“I’m Dr. Crisper.” She holds her hand out to me and I stand to shake it. “Harry has lost a considerable amount of blood, but he’ll be alright. He did give us quite a scare in the operating room though.”
I sigh and close my eyes in relief.
“Can I see him?”
Dr. Crisper nods, and then leads the way down a long hall. She stops at a door labeled 216, and opens it.
I step inside and see Harry hooked up to various IV’s and a heart monitor. His eyes are open, and he smiles a bit when I enter.
I sit down in the chair beside him. “How do you feel?”
He shrugs. “A bit better, but still shitty.”
I nod with a small smile.
It’s silent for a long while, the only sound is Harry’s heart monitor beeping annoyingly.
“Harry, who is after you and why?” I ask the question that’s been on my mind since we got here.
He sighs, sitting up, then opens his mouth to speak.
The room around me has turned from mellow and fun to chaotic in just seconds. I watch the sanity of the crowd crumble in front of my eyes, and suddenly the lights go out, emitting a scream from my throat. I have no idea what’s going on.
The shot came out of nowhere, hitting Harry and knocking him to the ground. I don’t know whether he’s alive or dead at this moment, and the pitch black darkness of the room doesn’t make finding him any easier.
The crowd around me screams and blocks me from getting down from the stage. I can barely see him, lying motionless beside the stage. Since its dark I can’t see how much he’s bleeding.
I shove my way through the crowd, but only manage to get knocked down. A few more shots ring through the air and I cover my head, getting back down on my knees.
Screams of pain and agony ring through the air, and I fight down the panic rising in my throat. I have to get to Harry.
I crawl on my hands and knees, squinting through the darkness at the place where Harry had been two seconds ago.
But he’s gone. He’s completely disappeared.
I straighten myself up and wildly look around for Harry. I stumble around tables and panicking people to where he had been lying only minutes before.
A dark spot stains the floor, and I reach out my hand to touch it, fingers coming in contact with a sticky substance.I gasp and quickly retract my hand.
Hearing a sniffing sound, I look up and spot Harry curled up in a ball in a dark corner, rocking back and forth and mumbling incoherent things under his breath.
I gasp, seeing a similar dark stain soaking the left side of his shirt to the one on the floor in front of me.
The lights flicker on and off, and I can just barely see that the bullet has only hit him in the shoulder. Relief floods over me, but just as soon as I thought everything was okay, Harry moved his arm and I saw blood trickling down the side of it.
Panic gripped my chest and I knew I had to get the both of us out of here soon. Me; because I was on the verge of a fucking panic attack, and Harry; because he was on the verge of dying.
“Harry.”
He stops mumbling briefly to glare up at me. His eyes flash with anger, warning me to stay away.
“Don’t touch me.” His voice is low and raspy, scaring me a little. If I didn’t know him better, I would have turned and ran.
His walls have been put up again and the fear and memories have filled his head. He’s back to his old self again.
Tears prick the back of my eyes. “You’re hurt, Harry.” I manage to choke out.
In more ways than one.
The room behind us is slowly quieting down; most of the people have gone besides the ones who are lying dead around us.
He ignores me, squeezing his eyes shut and continuing to mumble things.
He’s too deep in his own mind to hear from the real world anymore. It shatters my heart because I don’t know how to get through to him again.
I creep closer.
The bullet seems to have gone in deep, and he’s losing blood fast. Half his shirt is soaked, and its beginning to pool on the floor beside him. He’s trembling uncontrollably, breathing erratically.
Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I take in his pitiful appearance.
Just as I crouch down by his side, he screams as if he’s been stabbed, jumping away from me. He’s like a frightened animal. That’s exactly what he’s like.
But the real Harry isn’t like this. He’s part of my world. He’s not stuck in his own mind, slowly breaking apart piece by piece from loneliness. No, the real Harry is who I fell in love with.
I’ve fallen in love with Harry.
He sobs, groaning from the pain he’s experiencing. He’s getting weak, I can tell. His skin is ghostly pale and his eyes are a dull black color. Blood is incessantly dripping down the side of his arm at an alarming rate.
“B-b-b-bring me back, B-Beth,” he whispers pathetically, his eyes finally meeting mine again. They’ve lost their ferocity, and some of the beautiful green is seeping back into them, so I feel safe enough to sit in front of him.
I take his face in my hands, staring into the eyes I’ve grown to love so much.
“Let me help you, Harry,” I whisper back.
He nods slowly, showing signs of fatigue. He’s tired of fighting me.
I lean forward to kiss his cheek tentatively, and then run a hand through his disheveled curls.
“Harry, you’ve been shot in the shoulder,” I tell him quietly, chewing my lip as I examine the wound. It looks terrible from what I can see through his blood soaked shirt.
“I’m insane, not fucking painless,” he says, faint humor in his pained eyes. He exhaustedly rests his head on the wall behind him.
I have to work fast if I want to save him.
Thinking quickly, I rip the hem off his shirt and wrap it around him tightly as an attempt to stop the bleeding for now.
Harry shakes his head. “That won’t hold for long,” he whispers weakly.
“Hopefully as long as it takes to get to the hospital. Can you stand?”
He squeezes his eyes shut, pushing his good arm underneath himself. “I can try.”
I help him as best I can, and miraculously, he’s standing. I sling his good arm over my shoulder and help him walk through the bar and out to my car.
Just as I get him in, more gunshots sound and I duck as they whiz by our heads.
“Get in!” Harry shouts, shoving me inside with some of the remaining strength he possesses.
I fumble for my car keys and shove them in the ignition. I step on the accelerator, telling Harry to stay down.
Bullets continue to fly at us, and my back windshield shatters.
I swerve around several cars with blaring horns, silently apologizing for my reckless driving. I’ve never driven like this in my life, and I don’t plan on ever doing it again.
I glance in the rear-view mirror and gasp as I spot a black range rover racing after us.
“Why are they following us?!” I shriek rhetorically. “Why do they want us?!”
“They want me,” Harry mumbles beside me.
“What?!”
He’s silent.
“Harry! What the hell’s going on?!”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me!”
“Later!” he shouts, wincing. “I’ll tell you later.” He’s ghostly pale, and the blood from his shoulder is beginning to stain the seat he’s sitting in.
I hit the steering wheel, sighing.
“How are you holding up?” I ask, running a red light with a groan.
His chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace, as if he can’t breathe correctly. “Alright. Now keep your eyes on the road.”
As we near the hospital, the car behind us slows down, and temporary relief floods me.
“Hurry, Bethany,” Harry whispers weakly.
I glance at him, then take his hand. “I am, Harry. We’re almost there.”
A few minutes later, we finally reach the hospital and I realize the car behind us has disappeared.
I want an explanation, but obviously it’s going to have to wait.
And as I wait for the “okay” to go in to see Harry, I wonder what all that was. Why did Harry say they were after him? Who are “they” anyway? Could the death of Sandy and the attempt at Harry’s life be connected?
“Ms. Carol?”
I look up, meeting the eyes of a young female doctor.
“I’m Dr. Crisper.” She holds her hand out to me and I stand to shake it. “Harry has lost a considerable amount of blood, but he’ll be alright. He did give us quite a scare in the operating room though.”
I sigh and close my eyes in relief.
“Can I see him?”
Dr. Crisper nods, and then leads the way down a long hall. She stops at a door labeled 216, and opens it.
I step inside and see Harry hooked up to various IV’s and a heart monitor. His eyes are open, and he smiles a bit when I enter.
I sit down in the chair beside him. “How do you feel?”
He shrugs. “A bit better, but still shitty.”
I nod with a small smile.
It’s silent for a long while, the only sound is Harry’s heart monitor beeping annoyingly.
“Harry, who is after you and why?” I ask the question that’s been on my mind since we got here.
He sighs, sitting up, then opens his mouth to speak.
Notes
Mkay this chapter is dumb lolI got some comments saying that they hoped Harry isn't going to die....now why would i do that xD that's terrible
...even though i've done it before...
anywho
I was listening to Monster by Skillet and it goes with this chapter a lot so if you wanna listen to that...go 'hed.
Dont forget to comment guys ;) THANK YOU FOR OVER 9000 READS!!!!!!!1!!!11111!!!!!
@Nat3DirectionerStyles
omg :) thank you so much alksjdhfsk
8/12/14