Bria's POV

"Bria, wait," Harry cut me off in my tracks just before my hand reached for the hidden key card reader behind the mirror in the foyer of his suite. I turned around to see him hesitating to advance past the edge of his bed. "The tracker. I'll get-"

"Electrocuted," I finished. "Fuck...okay. Okay here's what we're going to do: it's 11:45 at night right now; Xander has a meeting in Switzerland tomorrow, so he's probably asleep, and the evening guards switch out for the night guards, which takes about fifteen minutes. They won't check up on your suite for until the time you're scheduled to work tomorrow-"

"They don't check up on me?"

"Of course not."

"Seriously? What if I died in here? There aren't any fucking windows or anything-"

"Well...the last person that died in their room ended up ramming himself into a wall so many times that he internally bled to death. They found him about a day later. Anyway, that's besides the point. We'll go to the lab-"

"Lab? What for?"

"You want to get the tracker out of you, don't you? We have to inject-"

"No, no, no. Absolutely not. God, I fucking hate needles-you injecting me with that shit was already bad enough, let alone-"

"Do you want to die before you get back to America, lover boy? Because I don't care about the lab, it's not like I've been implanted with a tracker-"

"Fuck, fine, fine," he sighed, shuddering at the thought of the sharp end prodding into his skin.

"Right. So we'll head down to the lab and there we can get you a lab coat or something and we'll run."

"Are...are you sure this is a good idea, Bria?" he asked, looking a little worried.

"When did we ever decide to settle on if an idea was good or not?"

"I don't know, I just...you know Xander's a little...well-"

"Look, I did this because you're unhappy. I-don't look at me like that-I know you're unhappy. I watch you on the surveillance cameras. Let's not discuss this right now-when the hell did you start discussing things?"

I checked my phone and let us out, grabbing his wrist and tugging him along the hall as he tried to speak.

"I...well I respect your decisions and I guess-"

"It'd be less insulting if you just told me that cop got the better of you."

"It's not like I don't care about you-"

"Save it, Styles, before I change my mind and lock you up in that room again," I snapped. He needed to be okay, no matter how much I wanted him. It was difficult to sway myself to do the right thing when I could ensure both my safety and his loyalty by doing the wrong thing.

We sprinted down the corridors-long, dimly lit passages with side doors and pass codes-until we reached the Main Laboratory nearly five minutes later. It was one of the only rooms in the building with a biometric scanner-the ones that needed a palm print for entry-because that was where all of the experiments happened, such as the one that brought Harry to the lab in the first place.

I watched Harry's eyes widen at exactly how much we had going on behind closed doors; there were tubes filled with bubbling liquids, diagrams with molecular specifications, and, on the far wall, calculations of algorithms to bypass several governments' security measures that Harry had scribed for us several days ago. There was no time to pause and gawk; the serum was kept in a refrigerator in the back room and we needed to get out, otherwise both of us would get killed. I kept pulling on Harry's arm, and he reacted like a little boy in a toy store, dragging his feet and begging to look at what chemicals were on the tables and asking to fix the algorithms slightly. Fucking nerdy as always.

"Sit," I instructed, locking the door so no one would accidentally barge in while I was giving Harry the antidote. He complied and watched me pull needles and tubes and pouches of serum from cupboards and chilled containers. Attached to the pouch of serum was a notebook; as I flipped through it, I realized that this plan may not have worked after all.

"What is it?" he called, getting anxious. I looked back at him to see worry on his face-he probably noted the same look on mine.

"I...I don't think this is going to work," I stammered, reading the notes again. I couldn't understand the terminology used, but I knew that the attempt to counteract the trackers wasn't going to be pretty. At the bottom of the page were the words NOT RECOMMENDED.

"Let me see," he held out his hand and asked for the booklet. I handed it to him and let him decipher the scientific jargon scrawled all across the sheet. His eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on piecing together the information before his face changed to a look of worry. "Is there no other serum?"

I shook my head. "Harry-"

"It's...it'll raise the amount of magnesium in my body," he started, running his hand through his hair, pacing the room, "and the magnesium will throw off the signals sent by the trackers."

"And?"

"Well the spike in magnesium could...it'll be fine."

"Are you sure? I don't think-"

"Just do it, Bria."

His voice became far too quiet to hear after that (he muttered on about something I couldn't decode) but I was stuck with a dilemma: was I going to risk his life by getting him back to America? Or by listening to him?

He sat up and held the pouch of serum to me. I gulped and nodded, making my way over to him. I sanitized the area of skin, my hands shaking as I did so, and told him I was sorry before sticking a syringe into the pouch, extracting 10 millilitres, just as the notebook specified, and injecting it all into his arm. He winced when the tip prodded into his flesh, but sat through it long enough for me to clean and patch him up.

"Do you feel any different?"

"I fucking hate needles, that hasn't changed," he groaned, "but I'm fine."

"Good," I said, putting everything away and gathering my things. "We need to go right now. Come."

He followed suit after putting on a lab coat and a hair net just in case someone decided to bump into us as I led him through more backdoors. Xander was careful to place different ways of escaping the building should anything happen to him (not that anything would; he was far too clever and cunning to let people catch him red handed). I was the only one he trusted with bypassing the security measures, and yet here I was, breaking his trust by escaping. It's not like his trust in me mattered anyway because I would've sooner died than reciprocate his feelings for me.

We passed multiple doors, skulked past cameras I hadn't patched, but before long we were greeted by the night air-crisp, and smelling of rich cigars-swirling around us.

"How're we getting off this continent?" he asked, more than a little out of breath. I turned to see him clasping his chest, bent over and hacking coughs from his throat. I quickly pulled him into my arms, stripping him of the hair net and examining him. His eyes were watery and he sniffled a bit, and I assumed to be the work of the serum.

"We have to get you to a hospital, Harry, that serum was a mistake. Fucking hell-"

"No, don't," he pulled away from me and started off on his own, stumbling as he tried to find his sense of direction. "We need to get out of here. You're in danger too."

He refused to let me help him. The coughing died down after a while, which gave me room to think about our next step.

"I know someone who'll fly us. He's in the countryside and-"

"Then let's go," he interrupted me, tugging on my hand. I pulled my phone out and dialed a taxi (the best part about having enough money was that you always had everything at your disposal) before taking out my SIM card and smashing it to pieces on the concrete, then kicking the pieces into the drain. I pulled a new one from my pocket and waited for our ride, which arrived a couple of minutes later.

Harry fell asleep during the car ride, his head leaning on the window pane as the driver coasted though the night. I had him roll up he partition, leaving us with a bit more privacy so I could read the letter Harry had written over again. He was such a fucking flop-the only thing cheesier than his letter was pizza. Reading it over, I pieced together why he had to write it in the first place: he hit her. I couldn't imagine Harry hitting anybody, except to protect me, and even still it was a rare occurrence. I didn't blame the cop for being upset-I certainly would've been-and had it been me, I probably wouldn't have forgiven him. Still, it was a valiant show of effort.

A clear jealousy bubbled in me for this Sperling girl, but I knew from the way he wrote that he cared about her. If anything, I wanted him to be okay. I looked over at him-snoring now, and drooling slightly, as he always did-and I couldn't help but to feel so much love for him that I hadn't felt in a long time. I kissed him on the cheek before pulling a pen from my bag and adding one final thing to Harry's letter:

He loves you. He really does. He's just too big of a fucking wimp to say it. - B.E.

For an extra one-hundred euros on top of the one-hundred needed to pay for the trip, once the taxi had arrived at our destination an hour later, the driver helped me carry Harry to Jules' aircraft shelter. Jules was a man I had met a year or two ago, flying planes in the valley while I was collecting money from someone nearby. He invited me in for tea after I stopped to admire him in his plane, and I said yes-I would've said yes to nearly anything if it meant I was away from Xander. I called Jules in the car on our way to his home, and he said he would start up his best aircraft for me-a small jet ("Darla", he named it). I felt more than guilty: how could a man with nothing but a love of planes and a small cottage be more fulfilled than I was, who had everything at her fingertips? I clearly had much to learn if I ever wanted to be as satisfied with life as he was.

"Maria!" he greeted. He didn't know my real name, and I intended on keeping it that way. He pointed at Harry and raised an eyebrow. "Qui est-ce?"

"Jules, salut," I greeted back. "Il est mon bon ami, et il est trés malade. Nous devons aller aux États-Unis. Est-ce que ça va?"

I prayed he would accept my request of flying to the States. Harry was sick and I needed his help, and I think he knew I needed it badly. He nodded and nudged his head over to the plane. I don't think I ever thanked somebody so much. I don't think I ever meant it that much either.

***

It was four in the morning and we were flying over the Atlantic when Harry started hacking in his sleep. He woke up not long after to see me by his side, rubbing his back as he jolted up in his seat. He started to wheeze and, out of the most sudden shock, blood came out of his mouth. My heart froze in my chest.

"Harry...you're coughing-"

"I'm fine," he snapped. "How far are we along?"

He coughed even harder and sniffled more often. I handed him a towel to wipe his mouth.

"We're due to arrive at an airfield that belongs to the pilot's friend in Minnesota in a few hours. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm okay," he said. I lifted my hand feebly and ever so cautiously and placed the back of my hand on his sweaty forehead only to pull it back instantly.

"Harry, you're burning up," I breathed, brushing his hair away from his damp skin. "What the hell was in that serum? What is it doing to you?"

"I'm fine-"

"No you're not!" I yelled, pulling out the gun from my bag and pointing it at him. All he did was chuckle and rub his eyes.

"Is that what you do when people don't listen to you? You pull out your gun?"

"I asked you a question and I want to know the answer."

"I don't want to tell you."

"Stop acting like a fucking child and answer my goddamn question!"

He laughed bitterly and slouched in his seat, staring out the window instead of at me. I had to admit I wasn't used to being treated like this, but I wasn't angry-not at Harry at least. I was mortified about what was happening to him; in a matter of hours, he had developed a fever and a horrible cough, and now he was hacking up blood.

"It's gonna kill me," he croaked, chuckling lamely and heaving his breaths. "The serum's gonna give me an aneurysm or something."

"This isn't funny," I scolded.

"I'm not joking."

He looked back at me when I clasped my hands over my mouth. "Harry, you said it would be fine-"

"I am fine-"

"No you're not! Your temperature is at least a hundred and two, you're coughing up blood-we could've found another way to-"

"No we couldn't have!" he roared, shutting me up completely. "What would you have done, huh? Drained my blood? Gone to a public hospital, even though we're on Most Wanted lists across the globe? Or let yourself get caught with me? I did it to keep you safe!"

"Stop that! Stop fucking doing things for other people! You know what I've learned over the years? I learned to never do things for anybody but myself. It keeps you safe and it keeps you alive. You're a criminal and it's time you started acting like one-"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded between coughs. "Not everyone can be like you, Bria, not everyone can be a fucking heartless-"

"I'm heartless because it keeps me alive, Harry. I didn't ask you to be a fucking hero and do this to yourself."

"Well I did, so the least you could do is be a little more grateful that you're not going to get raped by that prick again," he spat. I let a gasp slip from my mouth and he knew he had pushed it too far. "Shit...I'm sorry, it just-"

"No," I protested, stepping back, "no. I...I should let you get some sleep-"

"Bria-"

"Go to sleep," I said, turning around and isolating myself in the bathroom of the plane. Before I knew it, I started to cry uncontrollably. My hands shook as I reached into my bag and grabbed the notebook that had been attached to the serum and looked it over through welled-up eyes.

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR TRACKER COUNTERACTING. Patient will experience high fever, long-lasting cough, dizziness, fatigue, involuntary and irregular contractions of the heart, memory loss, heart failure, aneurysm and/or death. Magnesium levels change the signal the tracker gives off into a constant state of flux, making it impossible to trace.

A knock came from the door, and I wiped my tears away as soon as I heard the sound.

"Go away," I snapped. He came in anyway.

Harry, standing in the little doorway to the cubicle, was shaking and looked as if he was going to collapse. He wrapped a blanket around him and stumbled in, closing the door behind him. He sat on the floor, staring up at me who was sitting on the seat cover of the toilet. The flesh around his eyes was dark and his flesh was pale and clammy.

"I look like shit, don't I?" he asked. I nodded promptly and choked my tears back. He gave a small smile and slipped his hand into mine, his fragile grip barely clasping onto my fingers. "I keep fucking up with everyone. You broke me out of that place; the least I could do was keep you safe. You didn't deserve anything that happened to you."

"I read your letter again," I admitted suddenly. I think it was his comment about fucking up that triggered the memory. "You hit her."

He hung his head and sighed, rubbing his temples. "I did. I had to keep her safe too. The only way I could ensure she wouldn't come looking for me was to get her to hate me."

He pulled me down into his lap and cradled me into his arms, apologizing a countless number of times. I felt him shivering, weary and weak, as he breathed deeply and paced his inhales. It wasn't long before fatigue got the better of him and he fell asleep with me in his grasp.

"Please be okay," I whispered, taking in the smell of his cologne that I had placed in his room before he arrived. I was half-glad he used it; it reminded me of when both of us were younger and better off. I pressed my ear to his chest and listened to the beating that occurred underneath.

It wasn't steady. It wasn't steady.

***

sorry for such a long wait! school is tough and i cry myself to sleep at night ///SIGH///

this chapter is really sad like why do i do this to you guys? WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF?? im sad, you're sad, we're all sad.

but on the bright side (and completely unrelated to this story), i have a new story coming soon called Holga! please check it out if you haven't already done so. i'm planning to enter it into the 2014 Wattys if i get a chance, so it'd be nice to get all the support i can! let me know what you think of it c: i'll be starting it soon and i'm super duper proud of it!!!!!

p.s. as most of you probably guessed, this story is coming to an end soon and there will not be a sequel (mostly because i don't like stories that drag on and i enjoy definitive endings), but i promise the ending will be...interesting and/or worthwhile. it may also make you cry. any predictions?

love you guys until the end of the world. you all mean so much to me xx