Flowers in the Window || W2S

9

The pain was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. Your entire body seized up and collapsed, your right side hitting the wall as you fell against it. Sweat began beading rapidly across your face, and there was a distinct burning sensation in your gut.

Vaguely, you were aware of more fighting sounds over the roar in your ears. You ignored them as you pressed a shaky hand to your lower stomach to stem the bleeding, only to scream out as the pain grew, your throat becoming scratched with the noise growing louder.

The sounds ceased. A door banged somewhere, and then the familiar red and blue mask was in your vision, white eyes looking down at you in pure horror.

"-lease, please, don't do this to me. Stay awake, sweetheart, please. Stay with me, stay with me-"

His desperate words bounced in and out of your mind. He brushed his fingers over your wound, and you clenched your hands into fists to numb the pain.

"Please, I'll get you help, I promise-hold on for me, keep your eyes open-don't leave me, please-"

"Harry."

He stared at you for a few seconds. Then he cupped your face and lowered himself towards you slightly. "What did you just say?"

"Harry." Anxiety joined the pain. There was a tiny voice in the back of your head telling you that you may have been wrong the whole time.

He looked around, as if he were checking for an empty room. Then he detached his hands from you, reached up and pulled the mask off his head. And then you were looking up at him, all blue eyes and brown hair and his lips, sporting a rare frown. He was slightly blurry, but still himself.

Still your Harry.

"I was right," you breathed.

He smiled sadly. "You were right. You caught me. Should've seen it coming-you've always been so smart."

He pushed his hands underneath your body-one on your back, the other on the underside of your knees. Scooping you up into his arms, he pressed you into his chest and started running, leaving the vast basement behind. Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you craned to look at him again.

Delirium took over, and you started rambling. "You're always late to classes 'n stuff. You're really, really strong..and really, really kind..and you were wearing the suit when you came to the shelter.."

You trailed off, growing ever tired, until you were jolted back into reality by Harry's voice in your ear. "No, stay awake. Keep talking. Tell me more-tell me when you figured it out."

"Bathroom," you mumbled. "I got out the shower. Sat on the toilet. And then my brain told me."

He chuckled. "I think this is why I like you so much, you know."

You raised your head again. "Do you really?"

He looked at you, gaze soft and worried. "Of course I do. Did you really not know?"

You shook your head. "Only a little bit."

"A little bit," he repeated, and then you both lapsed into silence as he ascended the stairs, you in his arms. Were you dying? Was that why he was running so fast?

And then suddenly, he froze, mouth hanging open in shock. You turned woozily, and instantly wished you hadn't.

Bodies. Nothing but dead bodies. Cold and pale, their blood splattered across the floor and the walls, painting them crimson. Some of them piled up, some just carelessly strewn about like ragdolls. All of these people-all of these men and women and other people who had done absolutely nothing wrong..just like your mother..they looked like your mother..and you hated remembering..