Before You Start A War

Epilogue (Sad Ending)

See as Liam leans down next to Niall and checks his pulse, his breathing. Sees as Liam covers over the wound in his chest with gauze and cotton and strips of cloth. Sees as Liam leans down again next to Niall's mouth, his ear nearly pressed to his skin.

Sees as Liam pulls back and starts pressing down on Niall's chest, rhythmic, methodically movements.

Sees as Liam leans over his mouth and presses his lips to Niall's, breathing air into his lungs.

Sees as he repeats the process over and over, multiple times, as gunshots still go off around them. A few shots come way too close to them for Harry to be comfortable with.

Liam continues pressing down on Niall's chest, and Harry can see from afar as Niall's chest lurches and suddenly he's throwing up all over himself and the grass.

Harry breathes a sigh of relief as Liam turns Niall onto his side, facing toward him and using his fingers to wipe at Niall's mouth. He's saved.

Or at least he thinks.

His stomach drops again when Liam turns him onto his back again and begins pressing on his chest and breathing into his mouth once again.

"Why is he still going?" Harry yells out.

Louis shakes his head and let's it fall back against the tree, "Throwing up isn't a sign of life."

"How the fuck do you know that?"

Louis just shakes his head and looks back at the two on the field.

More and more men are falling around them, but Harry only has eyes for the two.

He doesn't care about the fight anymore. He doesn't care about the end of this war. He doesn't care about all the people falling on either side.

He doesn't care.

He should, but he doesn't.

He watches as Liam leans back, stretching his arms out in front of him and shaking his hands out. A man comes up to his side and touches his shoulder, and Harry can only watch as Liam stands up and walks to another person lying on the ground, seemingly choking.

He leaves Niall on the field where he fell.

Harry struggles in the arms of the man holding him.

Louis looks on with a pensive expression as Liam moves from victim to victim, leaving Niall in the same spot.

The grass has run red with blood around him.

_-_-_

The battle ended several hours later, a victory on their side. Harry can't even celebrate with everyone else around him. They're all jumping for joy, drinking together and giving increasingly drunken confessions.

Harry watches from afar. No one attempts to come up to him or invite him to the festivities.

He finds it hard to believe none of these other men lost someone they cared about or even loved in that same field, so he can't understand why they're so overjoyed. The war is over, they're going home. But What does it matter when not everyone is able to make it out alive?

What is even the point of war? It just leads to more loss, more suffering, more sadness, and simply puts a hold on the fighting for the foreseeable future.

He never should've joined this fight. It was the stupidest and most reckless decision he's ever made.

He didn't know what he was fighting for. Honestly, he never really was for any reason until the very end. And that reason was lost.