Gunrunners // A Harry Styles AU

14. A Bag of Cash

Harry

Monday 16th September

Harry has been staring at absolutely nothing on his laptop screen for anywhere between five minutes to half an hour. He's been out of hospital a week and he's still heard nothing from Nikita. Hell, he's not even heard anything of Nikita. No one mentions her when he's in the room, like they're scared he'll blow his top if they do. Maybe he would, but he still can't deny that he actually wants to talk about her. How pathetic is that?

He mostly stares at his screen because there's a picture of her plastered on the home screen. Probably not a very good coping mechanism for getting over her, but he just can't bring himself to get rid of it. He's adopted a habit of slamming the lid shut if someone walks in the room to save himself the embarrassment, but it never stops his cheeks flushing a rosey pink.

The fact that Kita didn't even visit him in the hospital once grates on him more than he'd like. He knows how break-ups work. Even if they're amicable it probably wouldn't be a sensible thing to show up in such a vulnerable state. But it doesn't change his feelings. It certainly doesn't remove the fact that he refuses to believe she is that heartless. He thinks there's something more, whether it's a selfish reasoning or not.

Even after his weeks in hospital he still feels battered. He's not really supposed to be walking around the way he is, but he spent long enough bed bound at the hospital, he'll be damned if he's doing the same at home. Call him superficial, but he thinks the worst part of looking like a beat-up mess is the fact that he has to wear a beanie to cover the bald-patch on his head all the time. Of all the messy states he's ever got himself into, this most recent one was the worst. He knows it's because his heart was involved.

At the soft knock on the door, he closes the lid on his laptop as is automatic now, though the action is much less frantic than it usually is. Eleanor sticks her head in with a small smile.

"Can we have a chat a sec?"

Harry clears his throat, pushing his laptop backwards as he nods. He points towards the chair opposite his desk, and answers with an unenthusiastic, "Sure."

Sliding into the room, El closes the door behind her quietly and delicately moves to sit in the only chair opposite his desk. It's just an old dining chair kept behind from before the refurbishment, so it doesn't leave much to get comfortable in.

"What's up?" Harry asks over a heavy intake of breath.

"Um," Eleanor swallows the lump in her throat, "this... might not be my place to say, but I wanted to talk to you about Dex."

Harry subtly locks his jaw as he cocks his head the opposite way, narrowing his eyes slightly. "What about Dex?"

"Well... I'm not sure what happened while he was in Morden, but he doesn't seem the same."

Surprisingly, Harry laughs once, but the sound carries little emotion. "You think his loyalties aren't here anymore." It's not a question.

Eleanor's neck sinks slightly, her shrug giving away her agreement. "I don't know, he just seems a bit off. That day in the warehouse, he wasn't entirely... careful."

"Are you talking about the fact that he knocked the doctor's head against the wall?"

El feels like shivering. Every single word from his last question feels wrong; off in a way. The fact that he knows is one thing, but refusing to say even Nikita's name? "You know about that?"

Harry slowly nods, but again he doesn't seem particularly bothered. "Yeah, Dex told me. Said he had to because at the time he was still technically working for Sparky. Definitely would've helped if he didn't have to, but I get it."