They ran in a straight line, directly to Harry's place. He was no longer cautious as he had been the first time he had been attacked by the Angels - his attitude now was more defiant, confident. Though the last scene, Loona being in such perilous danger, had humbled him, the remainders of the obscurus were still incredibly present in his body, burning in all his extremities.
He could hardly breathe as he felt the thick tar of the obscurus' presence still weighing on his lungs. But at the same time, he was fuelled by its adrenaline, by the sheer thrill of his power, high off his strength.
Loona was racing behind him - though she was far fitter than he was, and she had the abs and muscles to show for it, she still lagged slightly behind, more cement than hound at that point, frozen stiff by the insanity of everything that had just happened. Her mind raced with the sequence of recent events, and not only that, but it also worked up all the horrid consequences this would all have.
She was also frightened stiff by the possibility of running into more Angels, but by then, the cleanse by the clock was probably mostly done and the Angels had moved onto the more populated neighbourhood close to the centre of the pride ring. Loona and Harry's roles were reversed that afternoon because Loona was overthinking herself to death, and Harry's mind was free of care and responsibilities to the point where he found himself enjoying the feeling of the cold wind sweeping across his blood-crusted, warm face.
Luckily for Loona, they arrived at the apartment quite soon, banging up the stairs. Loona had met Angel only a handful of times in the few opportunities she'd dropped by Harry's house. They weren't really big on visiting each other's homes: they preferred random places or their usual rooftops, both of them having a keen sense of privacy and trying not to invade one another. Now that they were practically out of danger, Loona collapsed on the sofa. Hard.
She breathed out deep and felt an urge to cry like she never had before. But she couldn't cry. Not here, not in front of Harry or Angel, potentially. But Angel was nowhere to be found, anyway. She didn't even understand why she wanted to cry.
First off, she wasn't much a crier in general, but she also wasn't faced with anything too severe right now. If anything, she should've been jumping for glee and looking for Angel's stash in order to celebrate. She eyed Harry leaning against the door, looking like he was sinking. His horns began to retract once more. He lost height, lost all of that exaggerated bulk he had gained during the fight.
He also lost the excited, thirsty look in his eyes, and he simply looked exhausted. Loona sat up properly on the couch and gestured for him to sit beside her. She wanted to ask him what had happened.
She needed answers: she needed to know if he had been conscious during everything that had happened or not, if he had been able to hear her while in his trance, and what he wanted to do now that all those witnesses had seen him successfully fight and best an Angel. But mostly, she just wanted him close to her, and not just his weight pressing down upon her when she was convinced he had been killed. She needed him near, she wanted to hold him to her chest and squeeze him tight, have him curl up into her.
Harry's face lit up for a second when he saw her hopeful, caring expression, but then it darkened again. "Where's Angel?" He asked in a hoarse voice. Loona's ears pricked up. Even though he looked almost deflated, Harry crossed the small living room in one bound and opened the door to Angel's bedroom. Angel lay on his bed, foaming at the mouth and visibly trembling, his eyes rolled all the way back to his head, only the whites showing. Loona entered the room after Harry and gasped. "What's wrong with him?!" "He's ODing," Harry replied shakily. "What?" Really, he hadn't cleared up any confusion.
Could a person even overdose down here? Harry immediately went over to Angel and rolled him over on his side gently yet forcefully, like he had been trained to do so. Loona's heart sank, but now it was for reasons far more different than the first times it had happened during the day. "Harry…" "Just get Cherri Bomb on the phone. Ask her if she can come. Tell her Angel did it again. Her number is next to the phone. In the kitchen," he instructed, very calmly. "Harry-" "Just do it!" He screamed, but it wasn't an angry scream or an irritated one. It was more of a desperate cry. He was on the verge of tears, and each moment that passed, Angel shook more and more violently. Loona nodded and left the room.
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Cherri exited Angel's bedroom with a weary face. She had rushed over from her place in the middle of the extermination just because of Loona's words, a feat that was extraordinary to the hound. She didn't want to think that way, but she really questioned the urgency to help Angel - after all, what was the worst that could happen? It wasn't like he could die, right? In any case, it seemed to distress Harry and Cherri more than a little bit, and she saw that they were both horribly worried.
The moment Cherri arrived she had shoved a chunk of wood between Angel's teeth and filled the tub in the bathroom with cold water. She ordered Harry to get every single ice cube and packet of frozen food from the freezer and to put it into the bath. Then, she had plunked Angel into the bathtub. She'd ordered both Harry and Loona away, saying they hovered over her like pesky little flies, so they both sat drenched in blood on the living room couch.
They had watched as Cherri hauled Angel back into his bedroom, half-awake and clearly delirious. Afterwards, she had stayed a long time with him inside, and Harry was so anxious about it that he'd begun biting down at his claws despite the fact that he'd probably break his teeth in the process. The moment Cherri left the room, Harry jumped up. "How is he?" He asked, jittery. "He's out cold now," she replied, shaking her head. "Will he be…?" Harry didn't finish the question. Cherri sighed. "I reckon he has a few more in him before we start to notice. But he was too under it to be able to really tell." Now, Loona was really confused. Cherri walked over to the window and pulled the curtain, peering outside. "Well, no more white beams.
Guess the extermination is over. I need to check if some people didn't make it. Just out of spite," she said. But her voice lacked chirpiness and will, and Loona suspected that she wanted to leave because she felt uncomfortable. "Sure, I'll give you a call when he wakes up. Will probably be in a few days, anyway." Cherri pursed her lips and nodded. "Yeah. By the way, Har, what the hell happened to you?" She eyed them both up and down. They'd almost forgotten they were soaked in dry, hard blood. "Oh," Harry muttered, looking down at himself. "Er, long story." "Right. See ya, kid," she said, opening and slamming the door shut behind her.
She really knew when to stop asking questions. When she was gone, Harry sat down on the couch, his face cupped in his hands. Loona felt that she stuck out like a sore thumb, and she reckoned that Blitzo would be berserk thinking she'd been wiped out by the Angels. But despite the reasons why she should leave, she felt far more compelled to stick by Harry, who was clearly under a lot of stress. And that's exactly what she did. She set herself beside him and set a paw on his shoulder.
She reckoned that these past horrifying, torturous hours had been the biggest amount of time they had ever spent without bantering or being sarcastic towards one another - Loona particularly. But she didn't feel it was the time to return to that dynamic yet, she still felt like the whole world had taken her by the ankle and shaken her violently. Now that she had been set down, she felt woozy, her blood in places it shouldn't have been. "Harry," she said softly.
She didn't even know she had that voice in her. But the Loona that spoke then couldn't have been the same that she'd known her entire life. Harry turned up to face her, and she could see that he hadn't started to cry just yet, but if he so much as watched one cat video he would lose it. "What's the matter with Angel?" She asked.
\She felt like a fool immediately after - what was the matter with Angel? He was an addict. That was the matter with him. But she thought he understood the meaning behind her words. "Do you know why all those celebrities check into rehab down here instead of just-" Harry stumbled over his words. His voice was completely broken. "Just overdosing and then moving on?" He choked out. Loona shook her head. Harry ripped his gaze away from her and turned to face Angel's door instead. "You can survive it - you feel like shit after, sure, but you can technically overdose as much as you want. But something…" Harry wrung his hands. "Something has, like, a short-circuit. Up here," he pointed violently to his head. Tapping at his skull, his body drenched in red, eyes puffy and pink, he looked kind of insane. "There's only so many times you can overdose before you start to change. It's like the Hell equivalent of becoming a vegetable," he gave a dry chuckle and then set his face right back into his hands. Loona pressed a fist hard into her lap. She felt horribly inappropriate. She didn't feel like she had the proper tools at her disposal to deal with something like this, she didn't feel like she could actually help Harry.
Actually, she felt Harry could have helped Harry, but he was the one incapacitated at the time. More than anything, though, she felt even more guilty about the fact that she was feeling bad about herself rather than thinking about Harry. She felt like the most selfish, impotent being ever put on the earth. And then, her mind couldn't help but stray to that afternoon, when Harry had come to save her, when he had taken everything he had and, in the end, laid himself down so that he could at least die trying to have her survive.
She felt that all her self-imposed shackles, all the distance between her and Harry now changing. For once, she felt the scales tipped and saw in Harry his devotion to her and everything that he had done, and after such a display of affection, nothing that she could do would be seen as inappropriate or too much. Harry had taken all the steps she had been too much of a scaredy-cat to take.
He had done all that and more. She was being ridiculous. She shoved Harry's hands away from his face and held them in her own, cradling them.
She wasn't taking him anywhere, she wasn't forcing him to do anything or grabbing him in order to escape or push him forwards. She was touching him because she wanted to, because she wanted him to feel that she was there in every way that was possible. Despite his state of shock and distress, Harry noticed the gesture and looked up at Loona, a surprisingly innocent, beautiful look in his eyes. Loona wished she had been able to draw so she could portray Harry just as she saw him right then. Maybe she would take it up. She twined her fingers between his own and held them there. Despite all her previous convictions, now that she had done all that, it felt like she'd run an emotional marathon of sorts and now couldn't possibly do more than she already had.
But the payoff from it was still enormous, seeing Harry's response. Maybe she didn't need to be the most special, kind, empathetic person to be good to Harry. Maybe she could just act like plain old Loona, and things would be alright. "Har…" she began. It seemed like she was beginning many sentences with his name lately and finishing none of them. "When you really…" she was going to say the 'L' word, but caught herself in time. "…cherish someone. Like, really care for them. You sacrifice yourself. I probably can't even count all the times you… today… whatever. I don't think I want to know right now.
But if Angel really cares for you, then he will sacrifice himself. People do that kind of thing in different ways… and for Angel his drugs are part of himself. And he needs to kill it." She swallowed hard. She prayed that she wasn't being out of line, because if she was, she could drop dead right then and there. "You need to help him do it. I know it's hard for you to steel yourself," she could've almost laughed at that comment, remembering how he had fought three Angels just a few hours ago, "but I think that, when he recovers, Angel needs some tough love. Real tough." Harry thought for a second, squeezing her tighter as the moments passed.
She wouldn't have complained even if he cut off all her blood circulation. "Yeah, you may be right," he finally said in a deep sigh. He cinched up his face and then relaxed it once more. "Loona?" "Yeah?" "Will you insult me? This feels weird." They both laughed for the first time that day. They felt cleaner when it was over. Purer. "Actually," said Harry, after they'd quieted down. "I was gonna say I'm drained. I know you probably have to go back to your dad now, but would you stay a bit?" Loona smiled a bit, hiding her face from his. "Yeah, sure." Without another word, Harry sprawled his long legs over the couch and lay his head down on Loona's lap.
She accepted it without question, but her breath hitched up. Somehow, this felt more intimate than anything she'd ever done with a guy. Harry stared up at her from her muscular thighs, and Loona swept the wild, matted hair from his brow with one paw. Harry smiled up at her, and Loona smiled down at him. Without saying anything, she bent down and kissed him gently on his scar. Her heart was pounding, but she felt strangely calmed by the action, and it clearly soothed Harry, too, because he fell asleep a few moments later, a lazy smile on his face.