HIRED GUN // H.S AU

forty-three

A/N
the reason I don't do Harry's POV yet is because it would reveal too much!

AMARA

"Who did that to him?" I walked in front of the tv as Louis and Zayn played fifa, the two of them groaning angrily. They looked down the hallway, waiting for Harry to appear. "He's asleep."

"Sit, I'll tell you," Louis patted the seat next to him, resting his feet on the coffee table. I sat down quickly, pulling my legs up to my chest as I prepared myself for the worst.

"Harry and I were going to meet with some people, for reasons I can't tell you. The people tricked us completely, interrogated us the whole time on your whereabouts. Harry, being Harry, got his gun out because one of them pissed him off," Louis stopped to take a sip of his water, flicking his tongue dramatically before he continued.

"When they saw him getting his gun out, they jumped us and took our guns. They ended up shooting Harry twice while we were running away," Louis looked down, clearly angry at himself for what happened. I felt bad for the guy, he helped Harry and he was blaming himself for his injuries.

"It's not your fault, Lou," I patted his thigh comfortingly, lifting my lips in a closed-lipped smile when he looked at me. I could see how much seeing Harry hurt pained him, they were family.

"I know, I just feel responsible for him, you know?"

"Mhmm," Zayn and I hummed, perking up when a groan was heard from down the hall. My eyebrows furrowed as another groan came from the room Harry was in, jumping to my feet. We all huddled through the hall, swinging the door open.

My mouth opened when the door was fully opened, the sight confusing all of us. Harry was sweating profusely, his body shaking as he let out small grunts of pain.

"I think somethings wrong," Harry stated the obvious, his hand grazing his bandages. I cursed when my eyes fell on his stomach, redness peeking out from under the plasters.

Louis tore off one of the plasters, revealing the clearly infected wound. I almost gagged as mustard coloured puss excreted from his wound, my hand falling to Harry's forehead.

"He has a fever, is it an infection?" I grabbed Harry's hand as he tried sitting up to look at it, my other hand pushing his chest down to the bed. He huffed as I kept my hand there, scowling at him.

"I think so, Zayn where did you put the bullets?" Louis stared at the wound curiously, his eyes flying around as if he was solving a mathematical equation. Zayn didn't answer, simply running out of the room before coming back with the small metal bowl carrying the two bullets.

"I think they put poison on them?" Louis bit his lip, his eyes drifting from the bullets to Harry's torso repetitively.

"We have to go to the hospital," I demanded, almost growling when Zayn and Louis shook their heads in detest.

"We'll ask for a doctor to come to us, it'll be more secretive and we can leave once he's gone," Zayn grabbed his phone, typing on it quickly before speaking. "We need a doctor at 33 Melrose Lane, room 67...Yes, we think he's been poisoned...No, we can't come...No...I don't give a fuck if you need an operating room, you come to us or he's dead."

I rolled my eyes as Zayn finished the call, allowing a couple more threats to escape his lips before he ended it and nodded to us. We waited for 20 minutes, 20 painful minutes of watching Harry grow worse and more uncomfortable, before a knock was heard on the door.

"What took you so bloody long!" Zayn almost yelled when he opened the door, appearing at the bedroom seconds later with two doctors behind him. The two doctors widened their eyes when they stepped in, one of them reaching for their phone, causing Zayn to grab it from their hands and smash it to the floor. "Fix him."

The doctors hands shook as they got their equipment out, stabbing Harry with a couple needles, and making him drink all sorts of liquids. An hour later, the doctors stepped back, announcing they were done and the poison wasn't deadly and would pass through his body in the next few days.

(I have no idea how to treat a poisoned wound so let's imagine ok cool).

Zayn ushered them out after, Louis and I gathering things we'd need, such as clothes, necessities, and weapons. Harry would never forgive me if I left his guns here. We packed in minutes, Louis calling the private jet to meet us at the landing strip.

It was a mission getting Harry down without being seen by anyone, Louis and Zayn helping him to stay up. Harry evidently grew angry as they helped him, saying he could do it himself, but it relieved me that he looked better than before. Harry got even angrier when he was told he couldn't drive his own car, Louis sitting in the driver's seat confidently as Harry sat next to me in the back.

"This is ridiculous, I have a couple gunshot wounds, not an amputated leg," Harry grumbled the whole way there, ignoring us as we rolled our eyes at his diva attitude. His complaints had ceased by the time we got to the plane, greeting the pilot as we entered.

"Where are we going?" I sat across from Harry, looking at Louis who sat in the same corner as last time, along with Zayn.

"Paris, it's fairly crowded so I think we could disguise ourselves."

"You should go lay down," I spoke to Harry, watching as he shifted uncomfortably in the seat. His head shot up as soon as I said it, his head shaking in disagreement.

"I've slept too much, I have work to do," Harry replied, resting his laptop on his thighs. I sighed when he began typing, knowing I would convince him and I'd just lose the argument if I dragged it on.

"Why do so many people despise my parents? So many people are after me, in order to get revenge on them. What have they done and how have they done it to that many people?" I squinted my eyes, looking out the small window as the plane flew into the clouds.

"Half of them wouldn't despise your parents. Some may just want to use you to get money out of your parents. Your parents are gang leaders, I'm sure they've done some horrible things in their lifetime," Harry shrugged, my head snapping towards him angrily. "What? It's true."

"You're meant to say reassuring things, not the truth," I whined, throwing my head back as I realised how ridiculous I sounded. Harry stayed quiet, continuing to work.