Before You Start A War

Chapter Thirty-Three

The next day, Harry woke up with a bubble of apprehension in his throat. The fight is close, only a few miles away, and once they begin marching, Niall keeping in stride with everyone else this time, he can feel the apprehension spread to his shoulders.

He hasn't properly fought in a battle in months. None of them have. They've had training scrimmages and the small skirmish with the few members of Louis' group, but Harry wasn't even there for the battle.

Niall is still injured, and though he wields his weapon with grace, Harry can't help but wonder how long he'll be able to hold out.

Harry isn't sure how Louis fights, though he guesses he gives it his all.

Harry doesn't even know if Liam is going to be on the battlefield or if he's going to be a medic, even though he also carries a weapon for the first time since he signed up for the war in the first place.

The apprehension spreads down his arms and into his hands, making him still. He glances sideways at Niall to try and figure out if he is also feeling nervous, but Niall's face is completely devoid of emotion.

Goddamn it.

They approach the battlefield quickly, and Harry can already hear the sound of guns going off and cannons firing. They must already be in the thick of it.

Once they get close enough that Harry can feel the sound of the cannons reverberating in his chest, he steps closer to Niall and whispers, "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." Niall responds, without turning toward his boyfriend. Harry sighs and steps back into formation.

Liam, carrying a bag of medical supplies over his shoulder and a small pistol in his holster just in case he gets in a jam, steps in next to Harry. He can feel the sound of the drums off in the distance, and the boy at the back if their squad starts banging on his own in unison. Liam ignores them. "You can't force him to not fight."

"Shut up, Liam." Harry mutters, keeping his eyes glued to Niall's back. Despite still sporting a slight limp, Niall is able to walk in step with the rest of the soldiers. Harry wishes to pull him back and hide him behind a tree until the battle is over.

Liam sighs and continues walking next to Harry. "I know--"

"Shut up, Liam." Harry repeats threateningly, his grip on his own gun tightening.

"Oi, angry boy, listen to what he has to say." Louis calls up to them, who was walking a few paces behind them. Harry clenches his teeth and turns back to Louis for a moment, but Liam straightens him out.

"Niall is his own person. He can do whatever he wants. I know you want to protect him or whatever, but this is not the way to go about it. All you're gonna do is make him angry."

Harry grumples, teeth still clenched, "I'm aware of that."

"Then act like it. Protect him, don't treat him like he's weak."

Harry clenches his jaw tighter and feels his teeth start to ache at the pressure.

He doesn't even know why Niall wants to keep fighting.

Well, that's not true. He knows why, but he doesn't want to admit it. He wants to fight him on it, but he also knows why this means so much to him.

This could possibly be their last fight. This could possibly be the battle to end it all. After this, they might be able to go home.

That, or there will be hundreds more battles after this. That, or this war will never end. That, or they'll never be able to go home.

Harry shakes the thoughts away and stumbles over his feet when he notices the lines of soldiers ahead of him have come to a stop. His march becomes out of sync with those around him, but no one seems to notice.

"Men," The colonel calls out, and everything seems to go quiet. The men stop whispering. The drummer boy stops drumming. The gun shots seem to fade out, though Harry knows that the battle is still in full swing. Harry brings his attention back to the man at the front. "I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say I'm tired. This has been a long march," a long war, "but we're finally made it. This might be it." this is the moment we've all prayed for, "On my mark, spread out." get low, "Make rows to project yourselves and each other," out of sight, "and fight with everything you've got." make every shot count.

Harry stiffens up for a moment when the colonel stops talking. Then, he raises his hand to his forehead.

Almost in unison, every man brings their own arm up to salute back. Harry can even feel his body going through the motions like it's second nature.

"At ease." The colonel calls out, and, once again, every soldier moves in unison, fanning out among the trees.

Harry follows his row to the outer edge, while still keeping an eye on Niall. By the time they've all fallen into position, Harry is about five meters away from Niall, and Liam and Louis are both even further.

Niall drops to the ground and hoists his gun onto a tree root, taking position. This is the first time Harry has every actually seen Niall in battle, and he can't help but notice how quickly he loads the rifle and prepares to fire.

He often forgets that, prior to meeting him, Niall was a real, actual soldier who used to fight in battles like this all the time. Niall was trained, maybe not exactly like him, but similarly. Niall survived this war for months and months and didn't seen to have any battle wounds or scars.

Every scar on his body now represents what his old company did to him, as a punishment.

Every scar on his body now was gained from the cruelty of his old company and his new one.

Every bump, bruise, scrape, cut, and scar was given to him by people he was supposed to be able to trust.

Harry wishes he paid more attention to those permanent blemishes.

He's not sure when, or if, he'll ever see them again.

_-_-_

Hello all. I apologize it has taken me so long to update, and that this is such a short chapter. However, I just graduated from college so I should have plenty of time this summer to write. I hope to complete this story within the coming weeks. I have a writing schedule set up with a friend so I should be writing much more regularly now.

Thank you to all who have stuck with me throughout this story. Not much longer until the end, now.