In the Hands of Outlaws

Chapter Fourteen

Draco's vision was tripled and swirling around like water after a plug was pulled. He squinted at the figure above him. "H-Harry?"

"Shh," the figure hissed, clasping a hand over his mouth. Definitely Harry. 

"Come out you son of a bi-" Harry stood and the ear shattering sound of a gun firing made Draco let out a soft moan of pain.

The man's demands fell short as the sound of a body hitting the ground sounded out.

"I think that's it," Harry mumbled, looking around cautiously. 

Draco looked around and, with horror, found someone staring at him from the ground. He nearly shouted out, before realizing that he wasn't looking at him, because he was dead. 

Deep red liquid oozed from his chest, eyes half-lidded but still open. It felt like he could still see, and was mocking Draco for being scared.

"H-Harry?" Draco stammered, staring at the corpse in front of him. "Did you- Is he-"

"They're all dead." Harry stood, holstering his gun. His voice was monotonous as he grabbed Draco's good arm, hauling him to his feet. "We need to move. Fast, before more come. I'm running out of ammunition."

Harry whistled sharply, looking around, one hand still hovering cautiously over his hip. He was dressed now, and equipped with weapons. 

"That was the most painful fucking orgasm of my life," Draco muttered irritably, holding his fingers over the wound in his shoulder, which was tied over with a piece of cloth.

Harry didn't laugh, but the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. "That's the only thing you can think of right now?"

"I mean, the orgasm itself was fine, but did I really have to get shot? Who shot me? Who are these guys?"

"The people we picked you up from. They ain't too happy their little prize got stolen from them, I'm guessing."

"Prize?"

"You, Blondie. Remember your worth out here, with your rich daddy."

Draco frowned, sparing a look around. There were at least a dozen men, laid dead on the ground, seeping blood into the flora beneath them.

"How did you-..?"

Harry looked over. "What?"

"How did you... Kill all of them?"

"A gun."

"Well, obviously, but all of them against you? How did you not get hurt?"

"I did, you fool."

Only then did Draco notice the blood pouring out of Harry's side. "Holy shit, how did- What- When- Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, it's just a bullet. I'm used to getting shot."

Erelah finally pulled up, rearing on her hand legs anxiously. "Atta girl." Harry tossed Draco up onto the saddle, climbing up himself with little but a wince. "Take us back to camp. Fast."

Studying Harry, Draco could tell that his wound was affecting him more than he let on. His eyes seemingly kept going cross, each jolt of the horse making him wince. 

"Are you sure you're alright?" Draco asked, this time more calmly, but his worry was raging even worse than before.

"Fine. Just need to get back to camp. Hermione'll... Hermione'll patch me up."

Draco bit his lip to keep from complaining about it, making sure to hold onto Harry's left side, rather than his right, all while holding his own injured shoulder, which felt like liquid fire through his arm. 

After what felt like an eternity, they dropped off the horse, stumbling towards the center of camp, using each other to hold the other up. 

"Hey! We need some help!" Harry shouted, his voice hoarse and sounding choked. "Hermione!"

Men scrambled to help them to the infirmary while the women all gathered in the infirmary tent. 

Now that he wasn't worried about dying or falling off the horse, his pain was much worse, the distraction gone and leaving him to only think about the absolute misery that was his arm. 

Luna helped Draco over to a cot- the same one he'd been one for the bullet in his hip, while Hermione lugged Harry- who was insistent that he could 'walk on his own, thanks'- to one across the tent. 

"Poor Draco. So new to this world, yet you've already been shot twice."

"It's bullshit," Draco agreed with Luna, who offered him a vaguely comforting smile. 

"We'll get you home eventually."

Neville moved in, treating Harry with his magic toxic salve first while a crowd of girls surrounded him, leaving Draco alone with just Luna. 

"I'm not sure I'll ever make it, at this rate. Only a matter of time before a bullet hits somewhere vital, and I end up dead."

Luna pat Draco's cheek somewhat affectionately. "Harry won't let you die."

When Draco next opened his eyes, he realized he must have passed out, because Luna was gone, as well as the noise from the fretting girls. He blinked, blearily looking around with a soft groan. His throat protested, croaking angrily from the lack of water. 

"Mornin'."

Draco didn't need to look to see who had spoken. 

"What time is it?"

"Middle of the night."

"So, not morning, then."

"I revoke my good morning. Horrible night, to you, you miserable bastard."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. "How's your side?"

"Missed my ribs and my vitals. I'm all set. And your arm?"

Draco went to move his arm but immediately winced. "Painful. Is getting shot this often normal?"

"Unfortunately, yes. They took out the bullet- it should be healed within a few days."

"Great."

A silence, filled only by the distant sound of frogs and crickets, the occasional mumbling of a sleeping outlaw and their own breathing. 

"Harry?"

"Mm."

"When am I gonna get home?"

Harry was quiet for a while. "I'm not sure. New York... That's a long ways from here, and we're posted on every damn lamp post there. Hand-delivering you would be suicide for me, and for the entire gang. But sending you away would be suicide for you. It's far more complex than just settlin' you on a train and sendin' you off, doll."

Draco, despite himself, found his eyes welling with tears. "I miss home," he spoke, his voice cracking.

A pause. Harry did that a lot- allowed several moments to pass before speaking, as if choosing which words would work best. "I know. This life ain't easy. You're handlin' it well, darlin', even if me and the rest of us rag on you."

Draco hummed in a non-committal manner. "Sure."

"I'm serious. Most people would have started to scream and cry and beg at just the sight of an outlaw. You challenged me, even with a knife to your throat. It takes guts to do that."

"You were too annoying to not call out."

Harry chuckled, a low, deep raspy sound that somehow comforted Draco. He could see the faint line of Harry's silhouette tip his hat down, over his face, out of the corner of his eye.

"Get some sleep, blondie. We got a long day tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?"

"Well. If our conditions see fit, we're packing up for New York."