Legacy // H.S

47.

'It's OK

I know someday I'm gonna be with you'

*

'No!'

The word rips through my windpipe as fast as the bullet that entered Harry's body did. My body collapses alongside his, grasping his shoulders and his face. He takes heavy breaths, eyes still so wide I worry he'll hurt himself more. He hasn't blinked in the seconds that have passed since he was shot, still completely frozen by the impact.

Gently, I lay him against the floor, pulling at his jumper to locate an exit wound. But even I know I won't find one. The bullet would have lodged itself in me if it managed to fly through him, meaning we'd both be bleeding messes on the floor right now.

'Harry, breathe, okay. Please just breathe for me,' I say. I'm not sure he even hears it. I even fail to understand the words as the blood rushes in my ears with the quickening of my pulse.

His hands finally move to my shoulders, holding them so tightly I can't even move to check his wound. 'Atlas,' he chokes out. 'Go,' he adds. On the words, he begins coughing, crying out in pain as blood spills from his throat.

'No, I'm not leaving you!' I fight. My hands shake as they delicately take his face, begging for the permission I need to help him. 'Please, Harry,' I sob.

In haste, he grips at one of my hands. Blood pools at the corner of his mouth. Lips I once only thought about kissing, now stained red with his life as it slips away. 'You should... run.'

I'm not a doctor. I don't know how to fix him, to stop him from dying. I don't even if I'll be able to locate the bullet. If I can turn him over, maybe I'll be able to figure out, maybe he'll have a chance.

In an instant, I frantically start searching his pockets for the phone that Claude had given him. This is the time to make the call. They are the only people that can help us. Them, and an ambulance. Someone that can save him. I can't save him.

'I'll be having that, thank you.'

Niall takes the phone from my hand as I locate it, looking down at me with feigned concern. He turns the device over in his hand and pulls the battery from it before throwing both over the cliff and into the sea.

'Now, I'm sure there's a lot you want to know, Atlas, but time is of the essence, I'd say.' He nods his head down to Harry, tutting under his breath. 'Don't worry, I won't shoot you. Only if you give me a reason to, anyway, but I'm hoping you'll come to your senses,' he tells me. As if it makes me feel any better while I hold the love of my life in my arms as he bleeds out.

He doesn't wait for my answer, choosing to walk around to the passenger side of the car. I hear him search for something, using the time to try and calm Harry, but he appears shortly after with the bag of jewels in tow.

'Why are you doing this?' I cry out.

Niall stops ahead of us, looking down with a mocking frown. 'I'm the mole, Atlas. Surely Harry isn't the only one that knew?' he questions.

I try to add it up in my head. To find every instance where he may have revealed himself. Every conversation throughout the past year and a half, analysed in the seconds that pass. But maybe it's the shock, the adrenaline, the sheer horror over what has happened, that stops me from forming a conclusion. All I can even think about is the warmth of the blood that hits my fingers every time Harry coughs and shifts against me.

Niall rolls his eyes. 'Oh, come on! I thought it was obvious that I only did things for myself. That I have only ever had my best interests at heart,' he snaps. There's humour in his voice. 'I mean, the first time you met me was at a trial for pickpocketing, that must have been an indication for you.'