Harry Hook oneshots

Flesh Wound

It wasn't unlike you to barge into Harry's little residence whenever you weren't around, so he thought nothing of it, shrugging and continuing to slap together a sandwich to cure his hunger. 

When you called out for him, he answered and told you to wait a moment until he came around, leaving a silence once again as you exhaled sharply through your nose, left hand pressed firmly against your right side while you leaned against the wall. 

A few moments had passed by and Harry finally came out of the kitchen, mid-chew of a sandwich bite when he saw you leaning against the wall, discomfort painting your face. 

"Yeh alright?" he asked, waiting for your eyes to flutter back open. 

"I'm in pain," you answered flatly. 

Harry raised a brow at your vague response. "So, like, emotional pain or-" it wasn't until his eyes trailed down to where your hand rested on your side that he noticed the red liquid coating it, your jacket, and dripping onto the floor. "Oh my god, that's a lot of blood!" 

You shot him a sarcastic smile, nodding slowly. "Pain. Yeah." 

Your friend sat his sandwich down in an instant, coming closer to examine the injury better. Well, what he could see of it. 

"Wha' in the name of Hades happened?"  

"Hey, you think we could have this conversation over a First Aid kit and not while I'm standing here and bleeding out on your creaky hardwood floors?" You retorted, using your shoulder to push yourself up from the wall and stand up right. Harry rolled his eyes but complied anyway, rising to his feet and going into whatever room he left the kit in. 

He came back to find you laid out on the couch, eyes closed and breath coming out in puffs through your lips. 

"Aye, wake up," he instructed, tapping your leg repeatedly. 

"'M not asleep," you grumbled, pushing the hand away blindly. "Just wanted to rest my eyes for a minute." 

"An' yeh'll have plenty of time ta do that when I'm not tryin' to keep yeh from painting my couch." Harry grabbed onto your free hand and helped you sit up and closer to the edge, not without the grimaces and hisses of pain that came whenever you shifted. He sunk down, now sitting on his knees as he helped you remove your jacket and tank top, only pulling that halfway up to access the wound. 

"Ta-da~" you snickered, gesturing to it. You'd definitely been caught, alrighty. It was red and irritated, darker blood mixing with the lighter, more recent blood. It wasn't too bad, at least,  nothing some stitches couldn't fix. 

"Ow!" You slapped Harry's hand away when you felt the stinging burn of an alcohol pad. "That hurt!" 

"Oh, 'm sorry, yeh wanna live with or without an infection?" He retorted, glaring up at you. 

You frowned, head leaning from side to side a few times before you responded. "Without, I guess." 

"Exactly, so sit there an' shut up." 

The only thing that came out of your mouth now was pained hisses when the alcohol pad contacted your skin again, but other than that, you sat there and endured the burning and soreness and Harry cleaned up the wound. 

"Alrigh', girlie, get ta talkin'," he said after a moment, pulling out some bandages. "Whadya do?" 

"Some idiot came into the Shoppe today, stole something important of Uma's she had sat on the counter and ran off," you murmured, crossing your arms. "I went after him, obviously, and he managed to find a knife during his escape and stabbed me with it before I could move or block it." 

"And?" 

"I stabbed him back." Harry shook his head at the menacing grin you sported as you spoke. "Whatever it was is in my jacket pocket, but I came here because you're the only one I knew was close enough and had a First Aid kit handy." 

"Yeh need to stop gettin' into knife fights all the time," he scolded, beginning to wrap the bandages around your body. "Ain' enough First Aid on this rock fer yeh to show up with a new injury every five seconds." 

"Wasn't my fault this time," you pouted like a child. Harry stood up, now finished with his work, and tossed you a bottle of water.

"Drink up, there's a shirt'a mine lying around somewhere, clean up whatever blood I missed and go ta sleep." 

"Can't, I gotta get that thing back to Uma," you grunted, lifting yourself up off the couch while cracking open the plastic bottle. To your surprise, though, Harry already had the very item you were referring to, holding it up for you to see. 

"I got that. Do wha' I told ya," he urged, shooting you away from the door. 

"Yeah, yeah," your reply came out with a huff, turning around to search for whatever shirt he was talking about before. "Thanks, dad." 

"Anytime, luve." 

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(This is a random writing to inspire myself to write other stuff so if it makes no sense, I'll just go back and edit it later 😭)