Chapter 13
“-Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!-”
He opens his eyes, feeling complete for the first time. The top of the helicopter greets him but something pulls his eyes down. His heart stutters, nearly stopping as familiar green eyes stare back.
Harry?
“-going down! Alpha-niner calling-”
“Harry?” He asks incredulously. Disbelievingly. Hopefully.
Green eyes widen. The vehicle shutters. In an instant, he knows what he must do. He throws himself at his Godson, somehow here and alive, how is he alive?! and wraps his arms around both Harry and the child in his arms. He squeezes-
-
He wakes, inhaling raggedly and coughing harshly. He pushes a body off him without looking, already knowing it’s not Harry. He looks around desperately did I imagine it? Have I finally gone fucking mad? His eyes lock on a familiar face and he utters an animalistic sound of desperation as he crawls over. A hand lands almost hesitantly on Harry’s leg, the touch doing nothing to rouse the teen. Gaining more confidence, he drags himself up, fingers finding the spot on the neck that-
His heart shatters.
There is nothing. Fingers grope the neck more firmly, madness taking over. He can’t be dead! His Godson can’t be dead! It’s not-no! No! No! No, no, no no no nonononono-
“No!” He cries out, helpless. The tears come, unbidden and unnoticed, his hands clenching at Harry’s clothes. “No! Harry!” He sobs out, pulling his Godson up and to himself, tucking Harry’s face into his shoulder. He weeps, heart broken and scattered like the remains of the helicopter that killed his Godson.
“Hey!” A voice calls, sounding feminine. He ignores them, desperately clutching Harry to himself.
A child’s cry. He ignores it, too deep in his grief. He lowers his precious Godson to the ground and loses the will to keep going. He buries his face in Harry’s stomach and cries.
Not Harry. Not his Godson.
Please, not Harry.
---
Harry paces just outside the room, where he can hear Lori struggling to give birth to her child. His anxiety keeps him from sitting down next to Sirius, who is watching him with knowing eyes. Harry isn’t pacing because he’s worried for Lori. The foreboding that haunted him in Atlanta keeps growing and growing. He doesn’t know if it’s because of where they are, who they are with or just the entire thing mixing into a pool of stress that Harry keeps trying to do the backstroke in. It’s not as strong as all those months ago but remembering what Zoey and he narrowly avoided is making his paranoia flare something bad.
“She sounds like she’s doing fine,” Maggie says kindly, leaning into Glenn. They’ve been watching him pace. “My Daddy’s not a doctor but he’s close enough.”
“He’s been teaching Carol some things, too,” Glenn adds helpfully.
“He always says she’s a quick learner,” Beth chimes in, on Glenn’s other side. She’s playing with her hair absently, braiding and rebraiding her hair in a continuous, self soothing loop.
Lori shrieks, grunting like a boar that ends with harsh panting. Her Will flickers but remains bright, determined. A far cry from the mess it had been. Harry pauses, staring at the door intently.
“That...” Maggie winces, grimacing a little. “Sounds painful.”
“She shouldn’t be pushing so soon,” Harry remarks to himself in concern, not knowing where the comment came from. It slipped out from the depths of his memory without the images to accompany it. Did Ginny have a hard time with one of their children?
“How do you-” Maggie starts but the door opening cuts her off. Carol’s haggard face appears and she barely looks at Harry before he’s moving to step inside. He hears Sirius stand but the door closes firmly behind the teen, separating them. Rick is standing on the other side of the bed, holding Lori’s hand. Herschel is sitting down next to the foot of the bed, crutches leaning on the counter behind him.
“They’ll be fine, Sirius,” Harry hears Glenn say.
Harry doesn’t even need to focus on Lori to know that her body is betraying her. Even with his intervention, her hips are too narrow and the baby is coming too fast. She hasn’t been in labour long enough for her to be dilating properly for the birth. She’s already trying to push and just as Harry reaches her side, blood bursts out from between her legs. She gives an agonizing scream, face paling shade after shade. Carol, having resumed her spot at the end of the bed, is coated in Lori’s blood instantly. Rick wavers in shock, eyes wide and unable to process what just happened.
Harry hovers one hand over Lori’s sweating forehead, her dark eyes rolling up as she passes out and the other hand over her protruding womb. Carol wipes her face haphazardly with the inside of her shirt, making the mess worse but clearing her eyes of blood.
Herschel stands unsteadily as Harry says, “Her body isn’t ready but the baby is coming. Can you perform a C-Section?”
Herschel’s face hardens and he nods determinedly, “You’ll take care of her?”
Harry thins his lips, glancing at Rick’s hopeful face as he squeezes Lori’s limp hand, “Yes.”
As Herschel prepares a blade, clearly unhappy with the lack of sanitation of the room and general lack of proper tools, Harry tells the nearly catatonic Rick, “Stay here, Rick. Don’t go anywhere. Lori needs you.”
Rick shudders, swallowing thickly but seeming to come back from wherever his mind tried to take him, “Is she-”
“She can’t feel anything while she’s out,” Harry assures, not removing his hands from their position over Lori’s face and womb. “I’m keeping her there. Your job is to be here for her. Be here for them. Got me?”
Rick’s nods, sudden determination stealing over his features. He leans over, whispering into Lori’s ear, even if she can’t hear him. Carol wordlessly stands next to Herschel, keeping the older man steady as he pulls up Lori’s shirt. Herschel glances up at Harry, seeming to be looking for some signal. The teen nods once, his magic flaring as the older man uses the knife to cut Lori open. The skin splits immediately, nearly tearing in places, blood streaming down the sides of the bulging womb in rivulets. Harry keeps his magic from healing the wounds too soon, instead focusing on stabilizing her as Herschel works, feeling sweat begin beading his forehead and neck from the strain. More cuts, Carol watching the process intently. Rick buries his face in Lori’s hair, not watching at all, more focused on supporting his wife.
Herschel huffs, handing the knife to Carol and-Harry looks away, the sight of his hand disappearing into Lori is too much for him.
“Come on!” Herschel growls softly. Squelching sounds making Harry’s stomach turn and he needs to split his focus to keep from hurling.
Harry loses the struggle, throwing up on his own shoes when Lori’s vitals take a nose-dive with his distraction. He focuses entirely on her, the smell barely registering. His arms are beginning to shake from the strain of not only keeping Lori out but keeping her alive through the process.
“Almost-” Herschel grits out, gently pulling a small, bloody form out from the mess of Lori’s stomach. “There!”
Lori’s life force flickering dangerously, Harry hovers both hands over her ruined abdomen, pouring all his energy into healing the damage before the woman passes on. Lori wakes with a sudden wail, Rick having to pin her arms down when she tries to mindlessly feel her womb. Her abdomen stitches back together like a grotesque movie being rewound in real time, inside to the outside, sewing itself shut like a zipper.
Something snaps-
---
Harry bolts upright, drawing in a ragged gasp, nearly choking when his throat closes up. The images haunting his dreams slip away like sand and after another moment, he can’t remember what it was about.
“Harry?” Sirius asks urgently. A weight joins Harry on the bed and hands on his shoulders draw his eyes up. His Godfather is looking at him in concern, dark circles under his eyes and face drawn with worry.
“Lori?” Harry blurts out, memories beginning to trickle back in.
“She’s fine,” Sirius soothes, hands lightly massaging Harry’s shoulders in comfort. “The babe is fine. They’re both fine.”
Harry slumps, tension draining like an overripe sore. The teen buries his face in Sirius’ chest, drawing comfort from the simple contact that allows him to orient himself properly.
“You scared us,” Sirius tell Harry, strong arms wrapping around the teen in a hug. “Scared me. They said this happened before.”
“Amy,” is all Harry can say about it. He barely remembers that. He had been much more concerned about Zoey after the fact, as the action brought a lot of mental strife to her that Harry hadn’t intended.
“Well,” Sirius says after a moment, clearly at a loss. “Everyone is fine, so come on.”
Sirius pulls away. Harry looks at his Godfather in confusion, “What’s-”
“We’re leaving,” Sirius informs Harry in a clipped tone, bending to grab a bag and hefting it over his shoulders.
Harry’s heart starts pounding, “Now?”
“Yes, now,” Sirius states shortly, grabbing another bag and putting it on the end of the bed. “The bike is ready. You are awake. Nearly everyone is still sleeping.”
Harry stands and grabs the bag, pulling it over his shoulders as well, “Why?” He shouldn’t be asking, as this is exactly what he wanted this entire time but Sirius’ behaviour is concerning.
Sirius grits his teeth, clenching his fists in apparent anger, “Someone needs to keep you from being stupid, so here I am. Let’s go.”
Harry stops, boggling at the older man, “What?”
Sirius huffs, stepping closer and physically hauling Harry out of the cell, “You heard me. You nearly fucking-just fucking stupid. Over someone you barely-”
Harry rips his arm out of Sirius’ grip and snaps, “You don’t get to dictate that!”
Sirius snarls, eyes dark and wild, “I do now. You almost died, Harry! Again! I won’t-I refuse to allow you to stupidly put your life on the line anymore!”
“So I should have just allowed her to?” Harry hisses sharply, stepping away from his Godfather. “Allowed that baby to die? Because I might?”
“Yes!” Sirius snaps back, then catches himself and shakes his head. “No! Fuck!”
“I’m going to see them,” Harry growls firmly, shouldering past his torn Godfather.
Sirius grabs Harry’s arm again but the teen flinches away, nearly stumbling to the ground. Sirius stops and when Harry looks up at him, his face is ashen, “Harry-I wouldn’t-”
Grimacing, Harry leaves Sirius there, unable to articulate his feelings on the matter. They are so complicated and all over the place, warring for importance in his mind and heart. Sirius assured Harry that they wouldn’t be part again, so the teen feels confident that his Godfather wouldn’t leave without him.
“Harry?”
The teen stops, barely glancing at the groggy Glenn as he exits his and Maggie’s cell, “Hey, mate. Sorry if we woke you.”
Glenn rubs his eye, “Nah, man. You okay? We were worried.”
“I’m fine,” Harry shifts uncomfortably. He never did get used to people worrying over him. Then, something occurs to him, “Is Maggie awake?”
“Why?” Glenn asks in concern.
“I haven’t vaccinated her or Beth or Herschel yet,” Harry replies, clenching his fists. “I’m leaving soon.”
Glenn’s face clears up, “Oh. Just wait-” the Korean steps back into the cell and Harry hears Maggie’s groggy voice drift out. Then, Glenn peeks out, “Just a second. She wants to go check on Lori, too.”
“Same,” Harry admits.
Glenn nods, stepping out of the cell, “I’ll go grab Beth. Herschel is still with Lori. You need anything, Harry?”
Harry scratches the back of his neck, “No, thanks Glenn.”
Glenn smiles a little, giving Harry a once-over and then nodding as he leaves. Maggie pads out, hair wild and yawning into the back of her hand. She smiles at Harry, “Glad you see you awake.”
Harry offers a smile at the clear concern, “Like I told Glenn, I’m fine. Give me your hand.”
Maggie offers her left hand, palm up, just a little wary on what Harry may do to the limb. He simply takes her hand and feels the same mist-like sensation leaving his palm to sink into her skin. She huffs, jerking a little in his grasp and when he looks at her, she sheepishly says, “Tickles.”
Harry disengages, taking a step away from her, “There. Don’t go outand get bitten on purpose but you should be okay if you do.”
“Thanks, Harry,” Maggie says, moving to hug him but he nimbly steps away again.
“Please-” Harry says almost pleadingly and checks himself. He looks away from her confusion, “I’m not-I know you mean well, I’m just not... fond of... contact.” He isn’t going to be explaining where he’s been. Not to someone he’s only a couple days ago.
“Oh, I thought-” Maggie cuts herself off and then shakes her head. “I won’t anymore. Come on, Glenn will be back soon with Beth.”
Harry glances at the Sirius shaped shadow in the doorway and then follows Maggie.
---
After vaccinating Beth as well – thankfully Maggie runs interference before Beth can thank him with a hug as well – they make it to the room Lori gave ‘birth’ in. Rick answers the door, face still a midge pale but otherwise fine. He wordlessly lets them in, his one arm holding a bundle of blankets in the crook of his arm. Herschel is dozing in the corner. Carl is sitting by the bed, holding Lori’s hand even as she sleeps on. He looks up and his face brightens, leaving his Mother’s side to pretty much tackle Harry. Maggie makes an aborted move to stop him but Harry steps into it, squeezing the teen as tightly as Carl is squeezing him.
“Thank you, Harry,” Carl is suddenly crying into Harry’s shoulder. “She’s okay because of you.”
“You’re welcome, Carl,” Harry murmurs quietly, glancing up into Rick’s red-rimmed, grateful eyes. The older man seems to be at a loss for words. He’s so happy he saved Lori, if nothing more than that Carl and Judith deserves to have a Mom. Harry looks at the bundle and as he comforts Carl, he asks, “Gender?”
Carl pulls back, sniffing thickly. Rick answers quietly, “She’s a girl. Carl named her Judith.”
“Judith,” Harry repeats, a smile breaking out on his face as Rick gently pulls the blankets away from the babe’s face. She is merely a pink, wrinkly blob but right at that moment, she yawns. Rick seems enraptured by her. “Beautiful name. Good job, mate.”
Carl flushes, “It was my old teacher’s name.”
“Must have made quite the impression on you,” Harry muses, letting his arms drop from the younger teen. He focuses on the babe- and finds her malnourished but healthy. He reaches out and touches her forehead with his forefinger, Rick adjusting her wordlessly to allow easier access. Harry vaccinates her, unsure if Lori passed on her immunity and attaches the same good luck wish he gave to the other children. Then, he drops his hand, “There, she’s good to go.”
“Would you like to hold her?” Rick asks, shifting Judith a little as if to make to hand her to Harry.
The teen shakes his head, “I’m just glad to see she made it. That both of them made it.”
“Thanks to you,” Rick breathes, tears welling in his eyes. He looks at his sleeping wife and then back to the baby, rocking her gently, the tears falling. “You truly make miracles happen, Harry.”
Though uncomfortable, Harry doesn’t say anything. If he tries to brush it off, he’ll make it seem like what he did meant nothing to him and therefore, shouldn’t mean as much to them. Lori’s life, any life, is precious, even if the person behind it isn’t. That’s not to say that Lori is a bad person; she, like any other survivor, is just doing what they think is best. Fear does a lot of negative things to a person, twists up their emotions and their rational, reverting one to baser instincts. Mistrust. Anger. Lori had no reason to trust him back at the Quarry and even though he had proven himself by saving Amy, it was also a great shock. Healing powers like his isn’t normal and fear twists people’s perception of unnatural things. She was just trying to protect the people she loved from someone her fear was perceiving to be bad.
Harry never held her mistrust against her.
Instead, he says, “I’m glad I could help.”
“Are you sure you need to go?” Carl suddenly asks, sounding sad and on the verge of tears again. Rick looks at his son with sad eyes, probably knowing that Harry won’t be swayed into staying.
“Yeah, Carl,” Harry replies softly, smiling as he pulls the younger teen into a one armed hug. “I need to find Zoey. You have a younger sister now, try to understand why I need to go.”
“Find her? How’d you get separated?” Carl asks curiously, wiping his cheeks.
“That’s... a long story and not one I’m too keen to tell right now,” Harry smiles in apology, letting Carl go. He was going to reattach another wish charm to Carl but it seems like the previous one is still in effect. Harry wonders how long it lasts.
Carl seems very unhappy with it, “Okay.”
A snort draws Harry’s attention to the corner, where Herschel was dozing. The older gentleman is sitting up with a groan and the teen can practically hear the bones and joins popping from the unnatural sleeping position. Harry steps over, smiling sheepishly at Herschel’s startled look, “Hey there. Sorry about that, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“That’s quite alright, young man,” Herschel replies in a thick drawl, wincing as he straightens entirely. “If I may, what brings you here? Shouldn’t you still be resting?”
“I’m fine,” Harry assures. “I can vaccinate you from the virus, if you’d like. So if you get bit again, you won’t need to lose another limb or your life.”
Herschel pales, hesitating, “Now, son, I appreciate the thought but I don’t think that’ll be proper.”
“Daddy!” Maggie hisses, sounding upset from the doorway. “You let Harry vaccinate you! Don’t be stubborn about this!”
“Mags, stay out of this,” Herschel warns her, turning back to Harry with a solemn expression. “I am a man of God, Harry. If He intends for me to rejoin Him, then I am in no position to deny Him. I thanked you for saving me but if I had died from the amputation, it would have been okay, too.”
Maggie and Beth both utter a hurt sound. Harry doesn’t understand but Herschel is refusing the vaccination and the teen will accept that. He nods, “Very well. Please, be careful then. Whether your God calls you or not, your daughters need you, too.”
Herschel’s lips thin but he nods once, “I will. Thank you, son.”
Harry doesn’t like the term son when Herschel says it. The teen steps away, glancing at Lori and thankful she’s still asleep. Rick and Carl are hard enough but adding Lori to the mix would be too much for him to handle.
“Harry, just-” Beth pipes up but Harry shakes his head.
“People have the right to refuse medical treatment, Beth,” Harry tells her solemnly. “I won’t force it on him.”
Beth looks between Herschel and Harry, then sobs and runs out the door. Maggie sighs, sending a pointed look at her Father before retreating from the room to go after her sister. Harry hates that she’s upset over it but... well, there isn’t anything he can do about it.
“Rick, I think it’s time,” Harry says tiredly, not even looking at the man.
“Here, Carl,” Rick says, a shuffle of cloth. Judith grumbles.
“Take care, Harry,” Carl calls out as Rick passes Harry to head out the door. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, Carl,” Harry waves, following Rick. Sirius, standing next to the door in the hall, wordlessly follows along. The silence is heavy between them, charged with tension that Harry never remembered experiencing with his Godfather. They have so much to talk about. So much to clear up. It almost feels like a mountain with how insurmountable it seems. Sirius has changed... but so has Harry. He has a lifetime of adulthood behind him, even if he can’t remember details and although in the body of a teen, Harry is far older, mentally, than Sirius seems to think.
Once outside, the twilight is just beginning to blush with the morning kiss of the rising sun. Rick leads them to the bike, Daryl and Merle hanging around it sharing a cigarette. Pouch like bags were added to the sides and a gas canister sits innocently on the ground next to the back wheel.
“Fairy!” Merle greets with a mean grin, taking one last drag of the cigarette and flicking it away, still lit. He exhales a large cloud of smoke as he continues, “’bout fuckin’ time you woke up, lazy fucker.”
Harry just grins, amused rather than offended and replies drily, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were worried for me.”
“Nah,” Merle scoffs, ignoring Daryl’s subtle snicker. “Bike’s full. Some gas in the can. Should get you a few hours, maybe.”
“I thought you said-” Harry tries to protest.
“Harry, just take it, okay?” Rick cuts him off. “A little bit of gas is the least we can do for ya.”
Harry gives up, “Okay. Fine. But I want to vaccinate you two before I go.”
Taken aback, Merle and Daryl glance at each other. Then, they both shrug. Merle offers his hand first and Harry takes it, pleased he doesn’t have to explain himself. Merle hisses at the feeling of magic seeping into his skin and when it’s Daryl’s turn, the younger redneck bristles like a cat.
“Better fuckin’ watch him,” Harry hears Merle say and turns to see the elder Dixon scowling heavily at Sirius. “Wasn’t fuckin’ kiddin’ about weirdos ‘round here.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that,” Sirius replies tightly and steps towards the bike. “Let’s go, Harry.”
The lack of Pup shows just how wound Sirius is. Harry shakes Rick’s hand, nods to the Dixons and then seats himself behind Sirius on the bike. As the brothers head over to open the gate and keep the Biters at bay, Rick says, “Remember what I said, Harry. You always have a place with us, alright? You and Zoey and whoever else is with ya.”
Wordless, thick lump keeping him from talking, Harry nods. Sirius revs the bike and jolts forward with a roar, riding out of the fence gate and turning onto the road beyond. Harry looks over his shoulder, seeing someone on top of the tower. They raise their hand in farewell, to which Harry returns and then, they are on their way.
---
Harry feels the tension slowly draining out of both himself and Sirius the further they get from the Prison. The foreboding that had been increasing dissipates into the air and disappears altogether when they find a town. Sirius refills the tank with the little they have in the canister and then scrounge around for more. It took a few hours but they didn’t need any other supplies, so they left just as suddenly as they arrived. Neither spoke to each other unless necessary and the tension that seemed insurmountable was getting harder and harder to broach.
Their gas got them a fair distance, even when they stopped two more times to fill up. In the waning evening hours, they break into a lone gas station for the night, working together to secure it. Sirius lays traps at each entrance and booby-traps the windows with cans made to fall over at a stiff wind. While they don’t necessarily need to fear the dead with Harry’s ability, other survivors will always be a problem.
Then, they convene inside a small office.
“Harry...” Sirius finally says after long minutes in silence. “You know I wouldn’t...”
“I know, Sirius,” Harry replies quietly, picking at his sleeve. “It wasn’t you I was seeing right then.”
Sirius’ fist clench and he asks in a tight voice, “Who?”
Sighing, Harry leans forward and takes Sirius’ hands into his own, messaging out the tension, “I was held captive over the winter, by a group of women led by a psychotic woman. They enslaved men to do all their work and the women were encouraged to abuse them.” Harry focuses on Sirius’ worn hands, thumb tracing the thick vein on the back instead of looking at his Godfather’s face. In a way, it was easier to talk to the hands.
Sirius raises one hand slowly and flicks the cloth around Harry’s neck, “She’s the one who-”
Harry pulls back a bit, nodding.
“I’m going to fucking kill her,” Sirius promises darkly.
Harry finds that amusing for some reason. Is Sirius going to threaten everyone that harms Harry like that? “She’s already dead.”
Taken aback, Sirius frowns, “Tell me.”
If there is anyone Harry can trust in this world with the truth, it’s Sirius. As much as Harry loves Zoey, he doesn’t want to burden her with what happened to him after they were forced to part. Now that his mumbling is nonexistent, he won’t be accidentally blurting it out to her but will she still love him even without the one thing she liked most about him?
Harry tells Sirius everything, speaking mechanically and to his Godfather’s hands, which, at one point, turn to massage the teens hands in comfort. How he got captured, the commune, the Matron, his stay in the White Room and the bare basics of his treatment. It feels almost freeing to get everything out in the open, to lay it out instead of keeping it inside. Sirius doesn’t speak until Harry stops, suddenly out of words and unable to think of more.
“So, back in the Prison...” Sirius sounds out slowly, almost nervously. “I was the Matron in that second.”
Harry’s lips thin but he nods.
Sirius inhales deliberately and then asks, “Harry, can I hold you?”
Harry ducks his head to hide just how much he wants that as well and crawls into Sirius’ lap. His Godfather wraps his strong arms around Harry, feeling so much like home that the teen can’t keep his emotions at bay anymore. It starts with slow tears that devolve into sobbing, hiding his face in Sirius’ chest as he cries.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” Sirius says softly, rubbing Harry’s back. “I’m here now. I won’t let anyone hurt you again, I promise.”
Harry knows Sirius can’t make that promise. It’s an impossible one. His Godfather is just one man, albeit a very capable one. However, that means nothing to the surge of comfort his words bring. Harry isn’t alone anymore.
---
They ride the next morning.
The bike is small enough to weave between the abandoned wrecks of cars without needing to stop, the long highway stretching out before them seeming to disappear into the horizon. When scavenging for gas, they rarely speak. Harry is focused on his new sense and Sirius on their surroundings. Their wordless agreement on when it is safe to talk allows Harry to sense a gaggle of sparks nearby, rapidly approaching. Sirius isn’t aware of this sense, so Harry has no time to explain. He shoves his Godfather behind the car Sirius is trying to siphon from and puts his finger to his lips. Sirius tenses, listening intently as what sounds to be a large group of survivors running nearby.
They slow to a jog once they hit the road, one pausing as the rest keep going. Harry can feel it separate from the group and approach their hiding place. Harry tenses hard, wondering if they were seen but then realizes the bike is right out in the open with their bags in the side pouches.
Sirius shifts silently, probably realizing the same thing.
“Hey!” A girl calls out, backing up a little. “I think I got something!”
Bloody hell!
“What is it?”
Sirius moves before Harry can do or say anything, yanking the teen up with him. Sirius shoves Harry towards the bike and then aims his handgun around the vehicle.
“Oh shit!” The girl exclaims in terror. Harry starts the bike and then scoots back, allowing his Godfather to back up to mount the bike. She’s carrying a gun but the sudden scare took her off guard long enough for Sirius to get on. Harry takes the gun as Sirius holds it back for him and then they jolt forward.
“Veronica!” Someone calls out in deep concern, barely heard over the roar of the engine.
The girl jumps out of the way with a squeal, Sirius very nearly running her over in their escape. Harry felt a little bad but he didn’t want to risk anything with such a large group. With just the two of them, they were vastly outnumbered. Harry glances over his shoulder, seeing the group surrounding the girl, some aiming up the road at them. Sirius turns to avoid a car and a gunshot pings off the trunk. They both duck and Sirius steps on the gas, somehow managing to manoeuvre through the rest of the abandoned cars to get to open road. The teen holds on, the handgun held out to his side.
That evening, settling into an abandoned farmhouse that can be seen from the highway, Sirius sits down across from Harry and says seriously, “We need to talk, Pup.”
Harry winces, knowing it was coming and hoping they didn’t have to.
“What was that?” His Godfather asks firmly. “How did you know they were there?”
Harry picks at his sleeve so he doesn’t have to look at Sirius, “I have this... sense.”
“What?” Taken aback, Sirius frowns in confusion. “A sense?”
Harry nods, “It won’t make much sense unless I start from the beginning.”
Sirius settles back, getting comfortable.
“When I came here, it wasn’t through the Veil,” Harry starts, wondering how his Godfather will take it. Sirius tilts his head. “I died-” Sirius tenses, looking very concerned and Harry holds up his hand. “-let me finish, okay? I didn’t kill myself or got killed by someone else. I died of old age, okay?”
“Old age?” Sirius asks in askance, eyes bugging out a little. “How fucking long has it been?”
Harry sighs, “Sir’, I don’t remember how old I was, okay? I barely remember anything from our old world. All I know is that I went to bed and then Death was there.”
“Death?” Sirius interrupts, his tone going up an octave.
Harry glares, “I said let me finish! You can ask all the questions you want after!” His Godfather settles down, looking like a chastised child in that moment that Harry just huffs and continues. “I don’t remember the deal Death offered me but I accepted it. I woke up in Atlanta, like I told you, the day before the virus hit the city-” Harry tells Sirius about his stay at the bank and then how the bombs drove him from it. The teen holds up his hand again when Sirius tries to ask, the older man nearly white as a sheet at the news. Harry shares how he met with Zoey, her attempted kidnapping and finding out about his new abilities. Finding the Vatos and staying with them, how his healing capabilities grew. Then, the growing feeling of foreboding, leaving to escape it and meeting up with Rick in the tank. Sirius is like a child, sitting forward and watching Harry talk with an excited gleam to his eyes.
As the hours drag by, Harry tells Sirius about the Quarry, healing Amy and vaccinating everyone before leaving to find the Vatos wiped out.
“The helicopter you put us in crashed due to my magic,” Harry says, voice feeling a bit rough. He spends a bit of energy healing it. “Delicate measuring instruments go wacky at magic, they probably didn’t know they were heading in the wrong direction.”
“You survived the crash,” Sirius states confidently, forgetting he was supposed to stay quiet.
Harry opens his mouth but finds he doesn’t want to lie to his Godfather. He slowly closes it and looks down to his hands, “No, Sir’... I didn’t.”
“What?” Sirius asks, sounding lost. “Of course you did-”
“No,” Harry shakes his head and then pierces Sirius with his stare. “I didn’t. I died. According to the man that found us, who knows how to take vitals due to personal reasons, I had no heartbeat. I was dead, Sirius.”
Sirius straightens, as if something zapped his back, “You were dead, back then. When we crashed. I thought-”
Harry nods solemnly, “I did die.”
Sirius utters a sobbing sound, grabbing Harry’s hands to squeeze, “How?”
“I can only assume it’s due to the deal I made with Death,” Harry answers, squeezing back. “Every time I die, my powers expand. The first time, in Washington, I could look at someone and I would get a general idea what is wrong with them. The man’s wife had pancreatic cancer. I knew as soon as I looked at her. I could also kind of sense their will to live but I really had to focus on them. I just had this knowledge I never had before. My healing powers... don’t work on people who don’t want to live.”
“The... first time?” Sirius repeats, sounding aghast and heartbroken. “How many...”
“We stayed with those people for a month or so until we were forced to move on to find a better place,” Harry continues the story, Sirius listening with tears wetting his cheeks. Harry speaks almost in a monotone about the ambush and subsequent parting from the others, getting shot and taken by the group chasing him. The ambush they fell into and being taken to a community outside Washington. Harry skips over his stay; Sirius already knows what happened in those walls and picks up the story when the Matron tries to force Harry to kill a man with a point-blank shot to the face.
“I came back to myself, then,” Harry swallows thickly, knowing Sirius isn’t going to be happy about the next part. “I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t escape and the thought of the Matron somehow surviving to hurt me again or the women beating me to death was too much. I turned the gun on myself instead.”
Sirius suddenly yanks Harry into his lap, squeezing the teen almost too hard, “I’m so sorry, Harry,” he says thickly, regret coating every word. “I’m so sorry, Pup.”
Relaxing a little, Harry wraps his arms around his Godfather and buries his face into a shoulder. Having Sirius here to help carry this burden is relieving. Harry can’t tell Zoey about any of this. He may be able to tell Negan but no one, no one can be trusted more than Sirius. His Sirius, from their old world.
“I knew I wouldn’t stay dead for long,” Harry eventually continues. “I hoped they would throw my body into the fields outside the walls but the Matron had buried me...” he tells Sirius about his escape, smoothing over rescuing the men from the basement because he just doesn’t want to get into it. “My powers expanded again. I just had to focus on someone a little and I would glean greater knowledge about them. I could sense their Will to Live without even focusing. My healing capabilities grew too; I suddenly had a far deeper pool of magic to draw from and I didn’t need to touch someone to heal them anymore. Just had to be close enough.”
Harry rushes to finish the story, having enough of revisiting the past. He tells Sirius about meeting up with the group of teens and their parents that came to collect them after the fall of the commune. Being forced to follow them back because little Andre didn’t want to be parted from Harry and the events after Sirius passed out.
“I did die, again,” Harry sighs, feeling exhausted from the emotional upheaval. “You didn’t imagine it. This time, I could literally sense people’s Will to Live as sparks in my mind. I don’t even need to look at you to see or sense it. My healing capabilities have grown immensely as well; I wouldn’t have been able to keep Lori alive like that otherwise.”
“So, you knew those people were there because you sensed their Wills to Live?”
“Yeah, Sir’,” Harry confirms tiredly. “I can also kill someone if they lose that Will to Live.”
“Just like that?” Sirius snaps his fingers.
“That’s how the Matron died,” Harry supplies. “She was grieving her son over his grave and it went out. All I did was touch her and she died.” The teen doesn’t know why he skipped over the interaction with Death. He tried to say it but it’s like his tongue got tied up. The same had happened when Harry told his Godfather about the basement.
Sirius doesn’t say anything for a long time. Harry rests his head on Sirius’ chest, listening to the strong heartbeat under his ear. It’s comforting and soothing.
“I’m here now, Pup,” Sirius finally says into the quiet. “You won’t need to resort to that again. No one is taking you from me ever again.”
Harry hums, eyes fluttering closed as his exhaustion pulls him under, “I’m so happy you’re here, Padfoot. I missed you.”
A kiss to the crown of his head, “I missed you, too, Pup.”
---
The next day, they are forced to walk the bike a few miles because the siphoning tube and the gas can were left behind in their escape. Now that Sirius is aware of Harry’s new sense, he seems far more open to talking.
It was stilted at first, neither knowing how to talk to each other after the reveal the night before. Harry, feeling a bit awkward but relieved that he’s not carrying the burden by himself anymore and Sirius, who now is beginning to realize his Godson isn’t as young as he first thought.
“What I’m wondering is,” Sirius says, turning away from their previous topic. “I know why I didn’t remember you but how did you not recognize me?”
“I already said I don’t remember much from my previous life, Sir’. I remembered you but not your face. I knew your animagus was a big black dog but I didn't connect-oh Merlin."
Sirius jerks into alertness, scanning their surroundings, "What?"
Harry turns a mean, mean grin on Sirius, "Your animagus became a pet named Terrence!"
He finally did it. Harry finally made his Godfather speechless. Sirius drops his jaw in disbelief, staring into nothing. Harry's grin grows as Sirius' jaw opens and closes for a few moments. Then he snaps it shut and looks at Harry, "Pet? Terrence?"
Harry bursts into cackles, bunching over and clutching his stomach. Tears of mirth stream from his eyes and one glance at Sirius' affronted face has Harry laughing even more.
"Ha, ha. Laugh it up, Pup," Sirius snarks fondly, not sounding upset in the least. "But really? Terrence? Couldn't I have had a cooler name? Like Bruiser or even bleedin' Rover! Terrence!"
Harry can't stop laughing. He wipes away the tears to no effect, chest heaving with giggles he can't suppress. Sirius is grinning too, watching Harry with a soft expression.
The conversation takes a break when they find a car that had crashed into the brush on the side of the road. The Biters inside gnash their teeth weakly, moaning almost pitifully at being trapped inside the car. Harry takes a good look at them and grimaces in disgust at how their rotten flesh is almost peeling off the bone from the heat accelerating the rot. With all the windows rolled up, it must be boiling inside. The two work together seamlessly to put the Biters out of their misery and open the trunk, where some supplies and a hose is found.
Harry puts the usable supplies in with their stuff while Sirius converts the long hose into a make-shift siphon tube. They carefully transfer the gas from the car into the bike and then take the hose with them when they leave.
That evening they find another abandoned gas station. The storage tanks are empty and without power, the pumps don’t work, so they stash the bike inside with them and lock the place down. This time, Harry is determined to learn more about how his Godfather came to this place.
“So what happened?” Harry asks as they settle in for the night.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, after you fell through the Veil,” Harry clarifies, gesturing vaguely around himself. “How’d you end up here?”
Sirius tilts his head and then shrugs, “Beats me. When I woke up in this place, I remembered absolutely nothing. Not my name. Not you. Not of our old world. I had a feeling I was missing something but I could never figure it out. I was picked up by some military buggers that did a bunch of tests on me but couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. They told me I just appeared, out of nowhere, near one of their facilities. Said there was a dog with me but it ran away.”
“So, what happened after?” Harry asks curiously.
“Well,” Sirius grimaces, settling back against the wall. “I... must have exhibited some behaviours that made them want to train me because they did. In all manner of martial arts and weapons. I stayed in that facility for quite a few years before they allowed me out under my new identity John Doe.”
“John Doe?” Harry repeats with some amusement.
Sirius grins, “I know, right? Such a ridiculous name.”
“How long have you been here for?”
Sirius thinks for a moment and then shrugs, “Ten years? Which made me wonder how long it’s been for you, since you say you died of natural causes.”
Ten years? His Godfather has been here for ten years? It had been a lifetime for Harry, from what he can remember. Do times run differently between worlds or had Sirius been held somewhere else, not aging for all this time and then dumped here? Harry knows he won’t get answers, so he tries to focus on not creating more questions for himself.
“I can’t remember but I’m sure it was old age,” Harry says, shaking his head. “I can see how you wouldn’t recognize me, lacking your memories but that doesn’t explain why you were so...” Harry flounders for a kinder word than crazy.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Sirius replies, looking at his hands as they slowly open and close. “I mentioned before that I wasn’t a kind man, Harry. I was downright mean and vicious. My family... the Black family, has madness running in our veins, the kind of madness that allows unimaginable cruelties on our enemies. Since reuniting with you, I’ve been looking through my memories and I only have one theory.” Harry leans forward, needing to know why as well. “The thing I was missing was my animagus, Padfoot. Padfoot had all my memories. I don’t know why we were separated or how but without... without the good memories I have of your parents... my school times, what I fought for and against, I reverted to the madness of my family. I had nothing to draw on to check my behaviour against. I was... lost.”
Harry crawls forward, unable to fight the urge to comfort his Godfather. Sirius hugs the teen like he’s about to fall apart without something to hold onto, tremors starting under the strain of his emotions. Harry tells him firmly, “You aren’t like that anymore, Sir’.”
Sirius shudders under those words, his arms tightening almost painfully.
“You have me, now. And Zoey, once she gets to know you,” Harry continues, trying his best to comfort his Godfather. “You won’t ever be like that again. We’ll protect each other, okay?”
Sirius makes a strangled noise and begins to sob, finally releasing the tension he had been carrying since they’ve been reunited. Harry can’t help his own tears and doesn’t try to. They both need this.
Sirius pulls away some time later, smiling wetly. He takes a moment to gather himself as Harry scoots off his lap but sits right next to his Godfather. Harry needs a moment too, discreetly wiping his eyes and decides to change the subject a bit, "Can you still transform?"
The question takes Sirius off guard, brows rising, "You know, I don't know if I can." He claps his hands, "No time like the present!"
Harry grins when Sirius is abruptly replaced with Padfoot. The dog checks himself out and then looks right at Harry, tongue lolling. Harry cheers, "Yes! You can!"
Sirius changes back, huge grin on his face, "I can't believe it! I can still change into Padfoot!"
"That's great!" Harry enthuses, feeling pure joy for his Godfather. Everything Sirius was, had been stripped from him for one reason or another, leaving him bereft of the moral compass he developed by being friends with Harry’s parents. It's nice to see Sirius smiling again. It’s nice to have his Godfather back in his life.
“Tell me about this Zoey,” Sirius requests after they’ve settled down.
Harry does, enthusiastically. For what seems like hours, Harry tells Sirius everything about Zoey, from how she prefers her name to be said, to what foods she likes best to how well she was doing in her training. Her quirks and some of her fears, how concerned he is for her at all times. Their braiding ritual, her showing him all the best Disney movies.
However... the longer Harry goes on, the more tense Sirius becomes until...
“I need to tell you something about Zoey, Harry,” Sirius says with a note of trepidation in his voice. Harry looks at his Godfather in concern. “You need to know why the Commonwealth is still after her.”
—
Washington lay sprawled out in all its tragic beauty, fires from the bombings long extinguished. Harry traces the streets he can see with his eyes, half wondering if he'll see Zoey running among them. He doesn't but he will. It's why he's come all this way, fought for so long. Soon, soon, he'll find her.
Sirius revs the bike and Harry returns to it, mounting behind his Godfather. He pulls his hood up and tightens the strings to keep it up, then holds on. Sirius revs again and takes off with a jolt, the engine ripping loudly.
Sirius knows the streets a lot better than Harry because of their sweep of the city so long ago. It's easy for him to manoeuvre the bike through narrow openings and around obstacles. Then, Harry squeezes Sirius' middle when he catches sight of something.
The bike skids to a stop, Sirius putting his foot on the ground to steady the bike as Harry quickly dismounts. He runs up to the wall, his hands just barely refraining from touching the surface. The symbol is old and worn but unmistakably theirs. It has someone’s ink all over it, which in itself makes no sense but Harry can still see it.
Zoey is around here, somewhere.
The symbol says to stay put, safe place near but it's old. Harry decides to err on the side of caution and returns to the bike. After mounting, Sirius takes off again, this time slower. Harry sees another sign… and then another and another and another. His chest aches with the sudden understanding that Zoey never stopped looking for him. She went out, probably every day, to put these symbols up and search for him. Harry hides his face in Sirius' nape to control the sudden surge of emotions.
After filling the bike with their remaining gas, they keeping looking. It's nearing mid-day when Harry hears something. He looks over his shoulder, heart pounding at the three large black trucks bearing down on them. Harry can't be sure it isn't the military, so he pats Sirius' side. Knowing something is wrong, his Godfather pulls a short wheelie and then turns sharply into a side street. They lean over so hard they nearly kiss the pavement. Loud squeals and engine revs signals to Harry that their pursuers barely managed to make the same turn.
Sirius shrugs and pushes the gas harder, swerving around dead vehicles. The truck behind them is so loud, Harry's teeth practically chatter. Somehow… somehow, Sirius manages to stay ahead and makes another sharp turn. The truck is still on them, loud and insistent. Harry hears Sirius curse, then turn again. The rumble of the bike engine increased tenfold, echoing off the suddenly too close walls as they ride through a dirty alley.
The far end suddenly fills with a truck, forcing Sirius to skid to a hard stop. Harry glances over his shoulder and his anxiety rackets up from the truck filling that side as well.
They are trapped.
They quickly dismount, Sirius pulling Harry to him. The teen doesn't fight, hands shaking and struggling not to panic. They are trapped, in this alley, with bad people on either end, slowly tightening the noose around Harry's neck. He's so close. He's here, in Washington, the closest he's gotten to finding Zoey and now some assholes are here to take him away!
"Pup!" Sirius hisses, shaking Harry's shoulders.
Harry snaps out of the building panic, clutching Sirius' arms tightly, "Sir'-"
"We can do this," Sirius cuts him off, weathered, callous hands cupping Harry's face in the gloom. "Okay? Stay with me. We'll get out of this, okay?"
Harry tightens his grip and blurts out, "Don't let them take me."
"I won't," Sirius promises darkly. "Never again."
Their conversation is cut short. People are pouring into the opening at the far side, guns and weapons at the ready. A single figure exits the truck behind them. Sirius swears again, "Wait for my signal, okay?"
Harry nods, heart pounding. He faces the singular figure, features obscured by the glare of the light at the mouth of the alley. They pull out a large-ish weapon, the end a solid, ominous shadow.
"Well, well, well," the figure announces in a grandiose tone, sounding startlingly familiar. "You guys have definitely stepped in some bad doodoo!" He laughs at his own joke. Sirius tenses in anticipation.
Harry drops his hands, "Negan?"
The man stills, as does Sirius. Harry hears the groan of leather tightening on the handle of the weapon, "Who the fuck are you?"
With shaking fingers, Harry unravels the hood's strings and pulls it down, "It's me."
The weapon drops limply, no longer menacing, "Harry?" Harry barely has time to nod. Negan drops his weapon on the ground with a loud, metallic thud and envelopes the teen in a warm, relieved hug. Harry buries his face in Negan's chest, winding his own arms around the man's middle. Negan informs Harry in a thick voice, "Fuck, you're a sight for sore eyes."