Chapter 1
Harry’s fingers patiently tame each curl into order, hands working deftly with years of expertise. Zoey stays perfectly still as he works, facing the living room. It’s early – earlier than they are used to getting up. The quiet of the space is like a balm on both of them, allowing thoughts to rest. Braiding Zoey’s hair has turned into a ritual, one formed as a way to comfort each other. Everything around them has changed in many ways but this... this stays constant.
Harry knows that one day, her hair will cause her problems. What problems, Harry can only guess. Someone can tell her gender by her hair. Someone or a biter can grab it, use it to bring her down, to control her. Get her close enough for a bite, a hit. She can get it trapped. It can get into her face and eyes, causing momentary blindness that she might not be able to afford. Long hair is a liability in this world. One Harry isn’t sure he wants to bring up to her. Not when he draws just as much comfort as she does from braiding it.
The Dutch braids are coming along nicely. When Zoey grew tired of the crown, her hair growing a tad too long for it, she asked for double French braids. Harry got confused for a moment and messed up the way his hands were supposed to go. He had been about to take it back out but Zoey felt the area and deemed it her new favourite, immediately asking him to finish it. The result looked incredibly nice on her.
Harry rests his hands on Zoey's shoulders and she feels around her head carefully before nodding, "Thanks, Harry."
Feeling mischievous, Harry snakes his arms around her neck and pulls her back, ignoring her sudden squeals and laughs as he tickles her, "My payment please!"
"You jerk!" Zoey laughs, struggling around. She manages to get leverage and knocks him on his back, pouncing on top of him. Harry laughs in return, catching her flying fists and wrestling her over back onto the floor. "No! Not this time!"
Harry grunts, actually having issues pinning her down. Though she still has a long way to go, Zoey took to her training with determined zeal, something changing within her. She was half hearted at the Vatos, only interested in learning because it was something to do. Now, however, she’s been taking her training seriously. Seriously enough that she’s turning out to be a very quick learner.
Zoey snakes her leg up and shoves him up a few inches with her foot, just enough for her to stick her fingers just under Harry's jaw. The spasm from his only ticklish spot made him lose his grip on her and she slithers out of his hold.
"Ha!" Zoey crows as she tackles him onto his back. They grunt and hiss, each trying to get the upper hand. They roll right into the back of the couch and then Harry tosses Zoey over himself, ending the bout of sudden sibling wrestling with a loud thud! Harry and Zoey lay there, head to head, panting at the ceiling.
Negan comes out of the bedroom, "You guys better not be wrestling again."
Both Harry and Zoey look up at each other and then shake their heads, "Nope!" They pop out together. Harry has no doubt she's feeding Negan a fake, wide eyed look of innocence. She's getting scarily good at it. Negan can never meet it, looking away as usual and nodding, "Uh huh."
Harry doesn't feel smug about it. Zoey likes to turn it on him too.
"You guys heading out this morning?" Negan asks as he heads into the kitchen.
Harry sits up, half turning to Zoey, "I think that's the plan," Zoey narrows her eyes in thought and then nods. Harry looks up at Negan, "We need anything in particular?"
Negan pauses in his preparations, hand on the cupboard. He glances at the bedroom and then says, "No but this morning Lucille says she's getting strong enough to go. Maybe find some sturdy bags?"
Harry tilts his head; after healing Lucille, they had that conversation. It went better than Harry thought, both Negan and Lucille now wanting to move on and find other people. The catch is that though Lucille no longer requires specific medical intervention, she's not nearly strong enough to make it to the end of the block, much less any further than that. So plans were made to train everyone up, including Lucille and stockpile food to regain fat and strength. The immediate and outer suburban areas are picked clean of supplies of any kind; Harry has been getting closer and closer to making two day supply trips.
Which means it's nearing time to leave.
Harry nods and stands, "We'll be gone all day."
"That far out?" Negan asks as he takes out a pan. "Why not take my bike?"
Harry shakes his head, helping Zoey to her feet, "I don't know how to drive one and they are too loud. We don't need to be letting the wrong crowd know there's survivors here."
"Fair point," Negan half-shrugs. "Will you guys stay for breakfast?"
It's Zoey that answers as Harry turns to pull on his jacket, "Ate already. You two are turning into real lazy bums, you know."
Negan makes a face at her, waving his head back and forth as he lip mocks her. Zoey laughs, pulling on her sweater. Harry hands Zoey her beanie and pulls on his own cap, lovingly donated by Negan. It has the name of the school he taught at written across the forehead but otherwise black and simple. Harry pulls the hood of his jacket up and zips everything up, making sure his fingerless gloves are on and his shoes are tied.
Negan comes around the table to approach the two, "Please, be careful and come back in one piece."
Zoey looks up at Harry, "He's starting to ask a lot. What if I wanted to come home in two pieces?"
Negan shakes his head, reaching out to snag Zoey and pull her into a bear hug, "Don't get smart with me, Thumbelina."
Harry bows his head when Negan looks at him and then the older man pulls back, letting Zoey go. She straightens her clothes with a huff "I'm not that short."
"Yes you are," Harry and Negan say at the exact same time. Zoey looks between them with wide eyes, suddenly gleaming with fake horror.
"Oh no, Harry, he corrupted you."
Negan coughs and laughs, slapping his thigh in mirth as Harry replies in a deadpan tone, "I'm pretty sure I poked at your height before we met, so who corrupted whom here?"
"The real question," Negan wheezes as he steps away. "Is why you immediately thought I corrupted him."
Zoey scoffs, sticking her nose in the air and stomping out the door. Negan offers his fist and Harry bumps it with his own, walking out after Zoey.
"Lucille will kill you guys if you get hurt," Negan tells Harry before the door shuts and locks.
Doesn't he know it?
Lucille is the most vocal about their safety and more often than not, tries to talk them out of going out. Harry is the most suited to make runs for supplies but she prefers that Zoey stay and Negan to go. Not because she's a believer in men doing all the work but because she believes Zoey shouldn't be putting herself in danger like that. It's a worriers mindset that both Negan and Harry are trying to convince her out of. Harry had to finally put his foot down on the matter when Lucille tried to insist.
Harry doesn't want to get back into it but needless to say, Lucille backed off a bit. He understands her worries but they cannot afford to coddle anyone. Zoey needs to know how to take care of herself. Harry won't allow his little sister to wander this world defenceless when there are no laws to protect her. Thankfully, Negan is on Harry's side and continues to chip away at his wife's stubborn streak.
Zoey waits for him at the back door. They double check for weapons and then leave.
The suburban area Lucille and Negan live in - and now them, he supposes - once looked like a quiet neighbourhood. The grass and shrubs are all wildly overgrown, weeds springing out between cracks and the streets are lined with much garbage but once, it held hundreds of families. He tried to imagine the streets nice and families taking walks but it's like the new world resists such nostalgia, staying dank and dirty. Slowly, nature is digging their routes deep, deep, deep, for the day it will retake the cities. With no humans around to keep order, it’s only a matter of time. Harry thinks it’s only fitting that humanity give back what it took in the first place, willingly or not.
The houses within a mile and a half are completely cleared out. He knows from Negan's good memory and their efforts the last month or so of being here. The closest infested locations are clean but there's one just a bit further out that they haven't seen yet. They run through yards and peek around corners for the living, not especially worried about the dead. As usual, nothing. The longer nothing happens, the more antsy Harry feels. He's glad that Lucille feels she's strong enough to leave because he's a few days off testing her and leaving anyway. Now is a great time to look for sturdy bags.
As they run across a lawn, Harry hears it first. A distant rumble slowly gets louder. A vehicle or vehicles, definitely not a good sign. Harry hisses, stopping Zoey from going any further and pulling her into cover next to the house. She looks at him and nods and he knows he just told her he hears something. The rumbling gets loud enough for Zoey to hear and her eyes go wide, fear tensing in her shoulders. Harry looks up and sees the window open. He elbows Zoey. She follows his gaze up and then nods, getting her knife out. Harry folds his hands, ever so aware of how loud the rumbling is getting.
Zoey places her foot in his hand and he boosts her up to the window. "It's a kitchen!" She hisses, using her knife to bang on the frame. She doesn't move for ten solid seconds, Harry counting every one. Even with the rumbling now sounding more like many engines, he patiently waits for her to determine it's safe. At fifteen seconds, she moves further in. Once her legs disappeared inside, the many engines sounding incredibly loud, Harry jumps up and catches his fingers on the window, pulling himself up as fast as he can. Zoey catches him before he can face plant on the floor but he's far too heavy and lands heavily on his side, his hat falling off in the process. He's still grateful he doesn't have to heal a bruised face from his rush. The engines must be just outside, the rumblings and grumblings at their loudest.
Harry and Zoey look at each other as silence suddenly descends. Well, fuck.
"Spread out! If you find anything good, bring it out!"
"Fuck I hope I find a hole to fuck! At this point, I just don't give a fuck what kind!"
"God, me too."
"Hey, Frank," another voice calls out mockingly. "You think we have a chance of finding that magical healer boy Jacob mentioned?"
Harry's heart jumps into his throat. Zoey clutches his upper arm in sudden terror. Even though the tone is joking, the contents are not. Harry doesn't recall who Jacob is through the many, many people he vaccinated back then. The thought that every single one of those people told other people about him and those people told other people… hives are creeping up his back and across his shoulders. He should have thought through revealing his powers a bit more because now the target on his back is even bigger.
"Wouldn't that be something?"
Laughing and derision hides Harry's sudden furious whispering, "If they find us, I'll fight them and you go back-"
“I’m telling you guys, he’s real. Just because I haven’t-”
"No!" Zoey cuts him off angrily but thankfully quietly. "Not-
“-stupidly gotten bit yet doesn’t mean I’m not immune!”
"Zoey, these are men and I'm afraid you are a girl. A young, very pretty girl. Please, please run home, okay?" Harry pleads, trying to make her understand. She pales further but sets her jaw stubbornly.
“Okay, Jacob. Whatever you say, man.”
Harry tries again, knowing they don't have much time, "I can't fight my hardest if I'm worried about you at the same time."
“Shut the fuck up already!”
"I can fight!" Zoey hisses, sounding indignant.
"No, you can't!” Zoey rears back, offended. “Not against this kind of opponent.” Harry stresses urgently. “They are all very cruel men and you are a small girl they will have no problem picking up one handed. I promise, one day I'll turn to you for backup but right now, we are outnumbered and outgunned.” Harry emphasizes harshly, “I bloody need you to run the hell home, understand?"
The front door's knob suddenly turns before Zoey can even open her mouth. His heart in his throat, Harry clutches Zoey's leg to keep her absolutely still. The tense moment ends when the door tries to open, only to hear, "Fucking bolt."
Harry and Zoey both release the breath they were holding. He pushes his sister to the back door, hearing an angered kick to the front door that results in a hiss of pain. Zoey crawls to her feet and then runs as quietly as she can, Harry hot on her heels. The back door is in sight when it suddenly opens, a man stepping in. Zoey skids to a halt, half bent over from the sudden stop but Harry makes a leap right over her, his thighs just barely brushing her head as he crashes into the other man.
"What the-fuck!"
The element of surprise allows Harry the extra precious section to get his hands on the other man's head and shove it into the doorframe with a wicked thud! The man crumples without another word.
"Harry…" Zoey says quietly, sounding shocked and horrified but Harry doesn't have time to smooth her feelings. He crawls off the downed man and grabs her hand.
"Did you hear that?"
"Jacob?"
"Come on!" Harry hisses, dragging her out the back door. They make it nearly to the tall fence when someone yells. Harry and Zoey look over their shoulders, seeing two men, one pointing and yelling, the other running after them. Channelling his magic, Harry picks Zoey up in one smooth motion, grunting from the strain and hisses, "Go straight home!"
"Har-aah!" Zoey squeals as Harry heaves and throws her over the back fence. She just barely clears the top and she disappears behind the fence. He hears her land with a grunt and hiss but doesn't have any time to ask as he turns to face the strangers.
"Come here, you-"
The closest man reaches out to grab Harry with an angry leer. Harry grabs the arm, half turning and pulling harshly. The man yelps as he's dragged over Harry's shoulder and grunts as his back hits the ground. Harry shifts his hold and yanks, the man screaming in pain as his arm is brutally dislocated. A glance tells him that the other man is fumbling for his gun, so Harry kicks the downed man's face hard and sprints to the other.
Harry dives for the ground just as the man brings the gun up, the loud bang! so close to his face that his ears ring. The shot goes over his head, the man’s arm going up a bit in the recoil. Taking that chance, Harry surges up into a tackle, the gun going flying. The man lands on his back and if he grunts, Harry can't hear. His ears continue to ring as he wrestles the other man's head into his hands and, gripping tightly, bashes his head into the ground repeatedly. Hands try to push his face away but Harry turns his head and bites down ferociously.
Harry grunts, a sharp flare of pain in his side making him open his mouth in a gasp and more hands grab him. He struggles as he's pulled off the unmoving man, yanking one set of hands over his head and throwing a punch at the other. Both let go but as Harry scrambles to his feet to run, a fist appears out of nowhere. It drives into his face, whipping his head aside and knocking him on his back.
Harry wastes precious seconds trying to make the world stop spinning, rolling over onto his side and then onto his hands and knees. A hand bunches into the back of his shirt and a boot kicks his stomach. Harry gasps, his ringing ears popping back into clarity as he curls into himself.
"-kid! Stupid piece of shit!"
Another kick and Harry is on his back, the sky blurring across his vision before being filled with the ugly face of an older, grey haired man. Harry reaches up to fight the man off, unable to keep from being straddled, grunting as hands descend on his neck.
"Strong kid, woulda made a great Viper but you just had to fuck with my guys," he says, cutting off Harry's air. Harry tries to breath but he can't, eyes widening. The man tilts his head back and bears down, his face alight in horrible glee. He starts crooning, "That's it, you know yer gonna die. Just accept that darkness, go on now."
Harry gasps uselessly, his vision darkening at the edges as he tries so hard to gain any kind of leverage. The man is larger than he is, not by much but enough to matter.
"I caught a peek of that delectable morsel you were trying to hide from us," the man hisses as Harry's struggles weaken, his grip loosening and his arms dropping. "I'm going to go find her and comfort her. She'll be so distraught that her boyfriend is dead and will need a… strong shoulder to cry on, if you know what I mean." He chuckles meanly, leaning down.
The very thought of these monsters getting their hands on Zoey makes magic lance through Harry's body and explode outward. The man screams as he's blown backwards, impacting something hard and not moving. Harry gasps harshly, choking and coughing. He rolls over, gasping into the ground and pushing himself to his feet, stumbling back onto his side. His magical levels feel dangerously low. His second attempt to stand is impeded by two sets of hands that push him into the ground, someone straddling his hips to keep him down. Harry doesn't have the energy to struggle, so he rests limply, head aside, gasping for breath. His face, stomach and side throb with pain. He doesn't even know if he can heal himself, feeling close to empty.
"Boss okay?" The man on top of Harry asks.
"Probably. What the fuck was that?"
A hand grasps Harry's hair in a crushing grip and shoves his face into the ground, "I don't know but I'm sure it was the kid. What do we do with him?"
"Kill him," the other spits out. "What the fuck else?"
"I don't know," the man grunts, shifting. He groaned, pausing. Harry feels something swelling against his back. "I did want a hole to fuck."
"You said you didn't care what kind."
Harry knows where this is going. As the man on top of him shifts again, Harry starts struggling, grunting into the dirt. The man laughs, his bulge swelling further as Harry tries to get away.
"Hey, wait," someone else says. "I know that kid."
Harry doesn't stop struggling, even as the man pauses and grips his head. Harry groans as his face is revealed, the long column of his neck straining against the stretch, "This kid?"
Harry doesn't recognize the other, except as the one he tackled in the house. A large lump with terrible bruising dominates the side of his head. Harry can sense the man’s concussion from where he is. He recognizes Harry, his face lighting up, "Yeah! That's the kid I've been telling you about!"
Shite.
"This kid?" Harry gasps as his head is lifted even more, the strands of his hair pulling harshly against his scalp. Pulled so taut, Harry can't even move. He's helpless and, at the moment, utterly defenceless. He hopes Zoey got out of here!
"Yeah, that's him!"
"Fuck!" The man spits, shoving Harry's face back down into the dirt. "Boss wanted him."
"Boss, you okay?"
Harry grunts again when the man leans over him heavily, rancid, hot breath steaming over his ear, "I'll have you, boy. The boss won't be around all the time." He emphasizes his point by grinding his bulge into Harry's back and chuckling darkly.
Harry bucks, gaining enough room to turn over and shoves the heel of his palm into the man's face. His teeth clack shut, the tip of his tongue slicing off and spurting out blood. The man screams, unintentionally muffling himself as he claps a hand over his mouth. Harry shoves him off as he surges up, crawling over the leg and making a break for it.
"Fuck!"
"Get him!"
Harry so narrowly escapes the nearest grab, he stumbles and nearly falls. Thankfully, something is looking out for him because he catches himself and pushes himself harder to get away. Grunting and cursing behind him assures him that he has a decent head start. He runs into the front yard and around the house, leaping over the shorter fence between. It's in the wrong direction and exactly what he needs to lose them.
"The bikes!"
Harry's feet fly over the ground, gaining distance he knows he will soon lose. It's not long at all before he hears rumbling starting up. He doesn't dare look over his shoulder, skidding into a hard turn into someone's yard. The fence is tall but he has time and momentum to jump. He does, hearing the rumbling at its loudest right behind him as he hits the top. The air rushes out of his exhausted chest at the impact and scrambling over as fast as he can, yelping as he falls over the other side. He lands wrong, his ankle giving out under his weight and Harry gasps raggedly through the pain.
"Fuck!"
"Leave him!"
"Go! They're coming!"
"Goddamn it!" The man that tried to choke Harry to death suddenly yells out. "I want that fucking kid!"
"The alley! Let's go around!"
Harry can't heal his ankle and he cannot stay here. He has seconds, possibly an entire thirty seconds, to get the hell out of this alley. With a busted ankle, it seems impossible. He looks round desperately, seeing some biters hanging around but not nearly enough to ward off those men. The fence right across from him catches his eye, hearing the bikes get further before coming closer. There's a small space he could probably fit into and he's willing to try. His only other option is to let them take him.
Harry crawls across the alley, grunting as his injuries loudly and painfully remind him of their existence. He grasps the edges of the hole, feeling his fingers dig painfully into the sharp pieces as he pulls himself through. On the other side is a full, nearly enclosed yard that is almost entirely shaded by the trees. He hisses when his leg jabs into a sharp edge, practically yanking them through to get away in time. He pulls himself along the ground and into the nearest bush, the sound of the bikes so loud his teeth chatter. Just in time; Harry freezes entirely as the heavy rumble stops right behind the fence he crawled through.
"Where is he?!"
"He ran down the alley!"
"Wait! There's a hole here!"
Harry's heart pounds hard, feeling like it's trying to escape out his throat as a head appears through the hole. The man that had pinned him down peers his beady eyes around, looking for any sign of the teen. The raven doesn't even breathe until the man retreats with a, "Not there."
"Let's go! He has to be here somewhere!"
The bikes growl loudly as the crew drive off down the alley, slowly but surely getting more and more quiet. Harry is about to relax when he hears the rumbling in several directions.
Realization sets in. He can't leave, they'll catch him in no time and not for the first time hopes Zoey hightailed it back to Negan and Lucille's. He hopes she didn't stick around.
Harry stays absolutely still in that bush for hours and hours. Zoey's fate rests heavily on his mind, keeping it away from the events of the back yard. She is alone out there. He knows with acute understanding how much she fears being alone. How she fears being abandoned again. How she fears the silence. He wonders if she made it home… he hopes she made it home.
His wounds pulse until pain fades into a numb murmur. The rumbling never goes away, one always sounding right in the area, forcing Harry to stay where he is. The chill descends on him, making him shiver in bursts. After a while, though, one by one, the distant rumbling gets more distant until Harry cannot hear them at all. By this time, he is shivering so hard he's surprised he hasn't vibrated through the ground yet.
When Harry is sure he cannot hear anything but the distant snarls and shuffling of biters, he painfully crawls out from under the bush.
Gasping, Harry doesn't have the energy to even take the edge off. The rest he had, did nothing to help his magic recover. He still feels that wall, uncomfortably close, taunting him with his weakness. He pokes his head through the opening, looking in both directions and then pulling the rest of his sore, wounded body through. Without the aid of desperation, Harry has a time getting himself through, though this go around he has more time to work with.
Testing his ankle, Harry finds he can put his weight on it if he steps a certain way. Certainly, he will not be able to do any running, so he needs to take his time and hide if necessary.
The sun is dipping dangerously low in the sky when Harry begins the long trek home. He winces, limping heavily, his side and stomach smarting fiercely. The trip out took about half an hour of running through yards and streets, taking shortcut after shortcut. The long way, Harry is forced to stay on the street as his ankle absolutely will not take any messing around. The sun disappears and the stars are in full view before Harry finally turns onto the right street. He's incredibly grateful the bikers didn't come back out.
Panting and running feet from behind has him whirling around, giving a yelp of pain as his ankle cracks, giving out completely. Someone crashes into him at the same time, sending them both to the ground. Harry can't help the sob, the pain radiating up from his broken ankle completely overwhelming his ability to think.
"Harry?" Zoey's voice whimpers in uncertainty.
Pain is swept away by sheer relief, which is completely overwhelmed by incredible anger, "Zoey! What the bloody fucking shite are you still doing out here!!"
"I'm sorry!!" Zoey blurts out, her small hands coming to rest first on his arm and crawling up to his shoulder. Then her fists clench and she leans over him, hiding her face in his chest as she starts sobbing. Harry tries to keep his anger but he's just so incredibly relieved. She's safe. "I'm sorry!"
Harry sighs, feeling the anger leaving his body boneless and in pain. He brings his arms up, adjusting slightly so he's half hugging her, his other hand grasping the back of her head. She just squeezes in closer and starts talking through her crying, "You were right! I'm sorry I didn't listen! I'm sorry, Harry!"
Harry sighs again, feeling incredibly tired, "It's okay, Zo. You're okay. I'm okay. We're both okay." He punctuates each with a soothing pet to her head. He keeps the litany of soothing, meaningless words as Zoey cries out all of her pent up emotions, massaging her back gently. When Zoey finally calms down, she pulls away and sniffs thickly.
"You okay?" Harry asks quietly as she sits up, wiping her cheeks. He sits up as well, holding in a hiss at the sharp spike of pain.
Zoey shakes her head, "I'm fine. Are you okay?"
Harry chuckles, feeling his wounds and ankle throb persistently, "I'm alive. I need you to go get Negan, okay?"
Zoey looks him over, suddenly anxious, though she can’t possibly make anything out in the dark, "Why? What's wrong?"
"I can't get up and you are too small to carry my heavy ass, as I believe I heard you describe me," Harry says in a teasing tone. In the gloom, he sees his joke fall completely flat. She just looks even more concerned. "Hey," he says, catching her attention. "I'll be fine. Go get Negan."
Her lip trembles but she nods, standing with a, "Be right back."
"Zoey, if you come back out, I'm going to be very angry with you." Harry didn’t mean for his voice to get so cold. He’s exhausted in many ways and absolutely will not put up with his sister being argumentative. If she hadn’t spent precious time arguing with him in that house, they would have had more time to jump the fence. Harry would have made it over if he had even a few more meters of space. A few more seconds of time. While the incident isn’t her fault, how she responded is. Harry had been hoping she would know better by now.
Better late then never, he muses.
Zoey pauses, her shoulders tensing with her normal urge to argue but she catches herself. Harry watches as she fights her instinct to just do what she wants to do and feels a flicker of pride when she does. She doesn't talk to him again, though, disappearing into the yard. Getting Zoey to bloody well listen when he tells her to do something she really doesn't want to do is going rather swimmingly. He suspects it's her teenage hormones making the process difficult.
It's not like Harry can really say he was any better in his previous life.
It doesn't take long at all for Negan to run out and find Harry still sitting on the street, "Hey, we were expecting you guys back a while ago. What happened?"
"Trouble," Harry says, holding his arm up. "Help me, yeah?"
Negan is quick to reach down, grasping Harry's arm with both hands and pulling the teen to his foot. Harry gasps through the resulting spikes of pain, throat feeling ragged and raw. The teen sways from the change in elevation, just barely catching Negan's low, "What's wrong?"
"My ankle feels broken," Harry admits, panting. "And I think a couple of ribs are cracked. I'm bleedin' lucky to be here, mate."
"What happened?" Negan demands as he pulls Harry's arm over his shoulder and helps the teen hop awkwardly into the yard.
"Biker gang," Harry replies through grit teeth. "Incredibly… shite luck."
Negan sighs harshly but asks, "Why aren't you healing yourself?"
"Not enough energy. Didn't want to pass out," Harry replies, barely able to think beyond the waves of agony rippling through his ankle. It makes the edges of his vision darken dangerously.
Negan stops, "Do you think you'd have enough juice to heal yourself now?"
He shakes his head, almost delirious with pain. The world spins even as the darkness closes in on him. Harry slurs out, "Neg’, I'm goin’… pass out soon."
"Don't worry, kid. If you do, I'll drag your ass inside. I've got you."
Harry is surprisingly, incredibly, reassured by that and practically sags in Negan's hold. The man grunts but bears the extra weight well, nearly dragging Harry into the house amidst grunts and groans of agony. He doesn't quite make it down the stairs before the dark edges of his vision completely take over.