Generation Delta (1D AU)

Recklessness

Harry echoed his commands at me with  purpose. His intensity was fitting for his composed exterior, but I knew he was frightened for his teammate's life. This was made clear to me when the hands that he'd cupped around my face to steady my nerves began trembling like prey moments before certain death. Still, in his grip I'd mustered a response, though my rattling voice lacked any vigor. I was petrified. I could not handle three deaths in my short time of living. Three deaths of people I cared so deeply about, even if one was relatively new and still growing on me.

I couldn't help but to care and to let people in. I'd always been like that: trusting and loving so easily. Even though I'd lost so much, I was hardwired to allow those willing to come imprint themselves in my life. But ever since my brother's disappearance, nobody has come along to sink their foot into my cement. But these kids - these strange kids of Generation Delta - had somehow managed to ignite me, sparking the power to my wonderful, abandoned carousel. They made me feel alive.

Harry's intense eyes bore into mine as he demanded, "-GO. FIND. DAHLIA." I felt as if my cheeks were melting wax under his touch - the hottest I've felt from him so far. I nodded with eager comprehension and dashed inside to find the nursing student. I prayed she wouldn't be too tipsy.

As if she could sense a disturbance, Dahlia found my staunch glare from across the room. Her features flooded with concern as she grabbed Liam from his game and used him to make a path through the crowd. Louis' seemingly-permanent smize was instantly replaced by resolution, commanding control exactly as a leader should.

Outside, I explained what happened as calmly as I could muster. Louis and Liam scoped the land, hunting for the culprit while Dahlia and I gathered around the wounded. Harry had already removed Robin's blood-soaked t-shirt and was still kneeling over him. Harry's face was twisted into statuesque confusion, unmoving as stone, hands pressed to Robin's unmarked chest.

"It's gone...Harry what happened?" I breathed simultaneously incredulous and relieved as I shrunk to him. His composure cracked at the touch of my fingertips on his forearm.

"I- I don't know... it just closed up..." Harry's throat clenched midway. I didn't think it was even possible for him to stutter. In that moment, I could swear I scraped the surface of his mind.

He exuded the confidence of a badass, but he was shrouded in the misery of a basket case.

He was atrophied muscle encased in armor. Occasionally leather armor.

"Where's the bullet?" Dahlia demanded, now undeniably sober.

"It's still inside of him," he uttered, eyes glued to the untainted skin that had a hole ripped through it not even two minutes ago. Robin began to groan and shift his weight as Dahlia examined him.

"Ugh... what the hell just happened?" Robin grumbled, propping up on his elbows. Harry attempted to recap but was interrupted by Liam announcing that he'd found something.

"Look Scooby gang... a clue." Louis cracked as he grinned and pocketed the object for later inspection. "Round up anyone who's still inside. We all need to leave immediately. It's obviously not safe here." Louis' voice resonated authority; we all nodded in agreement.

Robin couldn't recall what happened, but he insisted there was nothing wrong with him. And besides the bullet still lodged in his chest, he looked and acted to be in perfect health. He even suggested teleporting the bullet out of himself, but Dahlia promptly listed the reasons why that would've been a horrible idea - unless the idea of risking internal bleeding buttered his biscuits. For that reason, she suggested that he refrain from teleportation until Dr. Rem finally returned from Europe.