Vulnerable (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 1

April 1965

Harry's P.O.V

"Find him! Quickly!" Ordered one

"No, find both of those bastards!" Commanded another one. With the brutal harshness in his voice I was guessing it had to be Smith. He was my brothers boss and he sure as hell wasn't happy with him.

I looked from behind one of the trucks, over to where the boats stayed on water. Chris was told to come meet Smith and his men at the dock to discuss some issues there apparently was at work. My brother had worked as co-manager for Smith as an auto parts mechanic. He took care of working with other companies and getting them to work with Smith. Something, I'm not so sure as what, happened and now I knew my brother was in trouble.

Men were running in all different directions, looking for Chris, they went and hopped onto the different small boats and yachts as well. When I knew the coast was clear I ran to the right looking behind the parked cars.

I spot him after a while into the distance, then a loud bang. As if something just cracked right there. That's when I realized, it was the sound of a gun after the trigger was pulled.

I look over again and this time see a figure running off towards the boats.

"Chris!" I yell after I knew no one else was around.

No response. Suddenly he turns around to look at me, his hands to his stomach, and he falls to his knees.

"Shit." I mumble. Realization hits me when I see tints of a dark rusty red on his hands, so I run to him

I hit the pavement with my knees and went down in front of him. I looked to his green emerald eyes, similar to mine although his darker with pain, then I look down to the deep wound.

He falls forward but I'm quick to grab his shoulders and turn him around so that he faces the
darkening sky.

"He shot me," he says trying to lift his head to look at his deep wound. "Harry I won't-" he doesn't finish because I cut him off from his statement.

"Shut up, you're strong and you'll make it!" I reassure him trying to ease him, but mostly to ease my fear, the fear of losing my brother, my best friend.

"No! Please we both know I won't make it."

Tears spring into my eyes, because he's right. With the gun shot too deep, he's losing a lot of blood. I don't understand how he hasn't died yet considering all of that.

"You have to leave Harry, leave this damn town. Hell, leave the country." Chris orders, as he usually does, being the older sibling.

"Where would I go?"

"America" he simply answers. "My friend James Evans lives there, in Pennsylvania. You remember him don't you?"

I nod as flashbacks of the warm days we spent over there with the American friends

"Go back to the house, in my room, and under the mattress, you'll find a small journal."

He gives quick thorough instructions and starts breathing heavily.

"You're a great strong man. Growing like your here brother." He smiles but it soon fades "Be very careful Harry. Go through life and find someone to accompany you and love you."

With that Christopher took his last faint breath of air.

I sat crying like a child, weak.

I was soon interrupted and my eyes filled with tears, but soon I was seeing lights, of red and blue in my vision and off in the air I heard the sirens, that were too late.