Niall Horan Imagines

The War Within- Part 2

The next time you saw Niall, it was under some very interesting circumstances. You were called into one of the tents where the soldiers camped out, because Corporal Horan was having a really tough time and his superiors felt he wouldn't even be suitable for battle anymore. He hadn't slept a whole night through since his session with you, as his slumber was always interrupted by some sort of nightmare. He'd jolt awake, his face dotted with sweat, clutching the blanket that was draped over his shaky body. Or, sometimes, he'd cry out and awake all the others in his unit, sending everyone into a mode of panic when in reality - Niall was just having another nightmare. His outbursts were starting to interfere with the rest of his unit now, which definitely was not okay.

When you ventured into the tent, ignoring the stares you got from the other boys, you spotted Niall balled up in the far corner, facing the wall of the tent. He was rocking back and forth, silently crying to himself. Stopping, your eyes met those of another young man in Niall's unit, and you asked him, "How long has he been doing this?"

"What?" The boy asked, glancing over at Niall, "Rockin' like a nut in the corner, or mumbling to himself?"

Rolling your eyes, you snapped, "Both. And he's not a nut. It's called PTSD. He's struggling with it."

"PTSD?!" A Southern accent spoke up from behind you, "Miss, the trauma ain't over yet."

"I know that," You replied, "He's suffering from a case of PTSD in reaction to killing that man. I've seen it before." You turned to Niall, watching in sympathy as he buried his face in his hands. "Is he responsive? Does he respond when you speak to him?"

Both soldiers shrugged, and the one with a Southern accent mumbled, "He'll listen, miss, but he hardly says a thing. He just mopes around and mumbles to himself. Cries a lot, too."

"Thank you," You nodded, excusing them to tend to your client. You carefully squatted down beside Niall, placing a hand on his back. He froze, lifting his head from his hands to glance at you with watery eyes and reddened skin. "Hi," You softly smiled, rubbing his back. "You remember me, Corporal? I'm-"

He interrupted you with his words, "I remember."

"Good," You said, before dropping your hand from his back. You moved to a sitting position so you and Niall faced opposite directions. "What's on your mind, Sir? You were just saying something before I came over here, what was it?"

Niall shook his head, resting his chin on his knees that he hugged to his chest. "I'm a loon," He said, his voice dry and tired. He rubbed his eyes, which were irritated from all the crying he'd done. "Just talking to myself," He told you, dismissing his words as if they didn't matter.

"I want to know what you were saying," You pressed, "I'm not here to judge you - remember?"

Niall nodded slowly, letting out a long and shaky breath. "The fact that I killed someone, the guilt from that-" He paused to inhale sharply, "-has passed, for the most part. Though, thinking of that only makes me feel more guilty. I should still be suffering. I deserve to feel guilty for the rest of my life, because I killed someone. But it doesn't jab at my heart anymore. It doesn't crush my emotions like it used to. It's only a whisper in the back of my mind now."