Movement

Chapter Fourteen.

Harry had suffered from a nearly fatal gunshot wound to his left anterior thigh, losing over one liter of blood after it nicked his femoral artery. When he was rushed into the emergency department, his heart rate was 140, his systolic blood pressure was less than 100, and he was breathing at a rate of 32 breaths per minute.

He was still awake, for some fucking reason, mumbling nonsense about "I was supposed to call Brady hours ago", holding limply onto a paramedic's hand and repeating the name over and over again, "Brady, Brady, Brady,".

Brady sat beside his bed, his chart in her shaky hands as she read through the narrative left by the nurse, who had recognized her from her days of working on an ambulance. She informed her that, not only was she FBI, but she was a former EMT. Nurse Donna's eyes widened at this, a rushed "Brady Allen? Is that you?" And after a long hug and a quick catch up on life, she handed the chart to Brady without any issue, stating: "Your boy is a fighter. He's a tough one."

Brady knew this already, though. She knew Harry could handle anything that was thrown in his way and that he would always come back with a wide smile and big, green eyes and warm hugs and still be the same, widely loved human he always was and always will be.

It was just that, well, she was so fucking scared. She was scared to lose him- the only person in the world who didn't push her to talk more, to be more, to be anything that she wasn't and didn't want to be. He was the only person who saw this potential in her just as she was- flaws and all- that she didn't see in herself. He didn't want her to change for him, if anything, he wanted her to change for her own self. Her own sanity. Her own sake.

He never pushed her to do anything, was always letting her figure things out on her own accord, whilst adding small tidbits of advice here and there that made her think about the ways she reacted- or didn't react- to certain situations. He told her almost every day that she shouldn't let people walk on her, that she was a hell of a lot stronger than she realized. Ever since he began telling her these things, she began looking in the mirror a little more often, noticing small changes.

It started with her eyes, honestly, the only part about herself that she truly appreciated. She noticed the depth, the emotion they held, the perseverance she had never seen in herself surfacing in her light irises. She'd never given herself enough credit for what she's gone through and how far she's come after all of the heavy currents she's waded through- from being abandoned by her father at a young age, to losing one of the only people she thought she loved, to being taken advantage of, stepped on her whole life, and coming out with a stable career, a halt to her drug usage, and with someone she could confidently say (not aloud, yet) that she loved.

She was brought back to one night about two weeks prior to the injury where she stood in the bathroom with the door open after washing her face before bed, cold droplets of water gently falling from her skin and into the white sink below her. Harry walked in then and stood behind her, his chin just above the top of her head as he met her eyes in the mirror.

He gave her a soft smile, placing his hands on her arms and pressing his front to her back as he rested his chin softly on her head and gave her arms a gentle squeeze. He just stared for a little while- at the way her wet eyelashes framed her eyes and her cheekbones glistened under the fluorescent lights of her bathroom, and he shook his head a bit, a grin with his teeth showing appearing on her face. She frowned a little.

"What?" She'd inquired suspiciously, but the grin didn't fall from his face. Instead he smiled harder, gently massaging her arms.

"Look at you," he had said softly, nodding his head a bit to get herself to look at her own reflection. She did then, and he turned his head and gave her temple a soft kiss. He didn't remove his lips, kept them there against her skin, his eyes locked on hers in the reflection. "That look in your eyes, you see it? Look at how strong you look, B. Nothing can take you down," he said softly, turning his head again to pepper kisses across her cheek and her jaw, bringing a grin to her face as she threw her head back, laughing out loud with a bunch of empty threats to get him to stop. He didn't.