salute [h.s]

you've woken up my heart

He still had her voice in his head. It wouldn't leave — had just planted itself there and refused to budge. He knew he should be focusing on the medic that was pulling a bullet from his shoulder but he couldn't help his mind wandering to the woman he'd just spoken to on the phone. He didn't even know her name but he couldn't seem to get her out of his thoughts.

It had been a surprising voice, a little abrasive and lower than he'd expected but when she'd managed a laugh it had been the brightest sound in the world. She was snarky and sarcastic and so sharp, her mind quick to quip back at him when he tried to be cute. It had been a long time since a woman had kept on her toes with him in a back and forth and Harry had a lot of respect for that.

But the thing that he couldn't shake was how just hearing her voice on the other end of that line had given him a renewed source of energy that he hadn't been expecting. He'd been tired, shot in the shoulder, and was carrying a man along with him but he'd felt a huge rush of adrenaline just talking with her on the phone, accompanied by a tug in his belly that he hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't attraction — after all, she was just a voice. But it was the sort of intrinsic connection, an instantaneous draw to her, that he couldn't explain.

He'd warmed to her almost right away on that call and, despite the little blip of her almost getting him shot through, he had trusted her almost instantly with his safety. Considering that he'd learned less than an hour ago that his analyst was a double agent — that had been simple to deduce after Nigel had led him into a fucking trap — it was probably stupid to have placed his life so easily in her hands. He'd had no doubt though. He'd known she would keep him safe.

It was something about the way that her voice had felt like sunshine in the darkness that filled his soul, how she'd made him feel so alive in that conversation. After months of listlessness and feeling purposeless, she'd managed to reinvigorate an old part of him that lived and breathed this job, who felt confident in his abilities and wouldn't let anything tear him down. The way she'd managed to transfer this positive energy, this hope, over the line had reminded him why he did this.

And now he was determined to find his petal.

He shimmied a bit so he could pull his transmitter from his pocket. It had been on the fritz all evening — Nigel had done something to the connection before he'd completely fucked Harry over so he'd been unable to reach Louis. Hence, MI6 having to step in and him being introduced to a lovely T branch agent. Maybe things happened for a reason.

Checking the device, he realized it was still unusable for what he needed it for. With a grimace, he glanced up at the medic that was temporarily bandaging his shoulder — Niall would fix him up properly when he got home.

"Hey mate, d'you have a phone I could borrow?"

The medic he'd been dealing with was a local and Harry realized retroactively that he should have spoken arabic but honestly his brain was just too tired to be doing any translation on the spot. Instead, he held up the transmitter. The medic smiled and nodded, reaching into his bag and pulling out a phone. Harry thanked him and then dialled a number from heart.