Take My Breath by AwayRealityBetterThanFiction on a03

Chapter 8

DNIF - Duty Not Including Flying...basically like probation.

*Reminder to check the trigger warnings in the notes at the beginning of the chapter before reading!

Story starts below...Enjoy!

xxxxx

If flying was the dream, this was the nightmare. This was the moment where training gave way to blind panic, in veterans and rookies alike. Years of exhaustive practice and relentless sacrifice came down to whether or not you could reach a fucking handle dangling less than a metre in front of your face.

"Eject! Eject!" Harry screamed again, hand trying for the ejection handle, their last hope. The G force was so crushing that Harry was plastered to his seat, arms heavy like anvils. He could feel the edge of his consciousness looming, body desperate for air, lungs unable to work beyond gulping gasps. He squeezed every one of his muscles, trying to keep the blood to his head, trying to stay lucid.

"Engines out! Fifteen thousand. Thirteen. Ten. Fuck! Now! Now! " Niall yelled from behind him, eyes no doubt watching the plummeting altitude meter just like Harry as their chances dwindled with each spin of the needle. The sound of alarms filled the cockpit, filled Harry's head.

"I can't! I can't reach it!" Harry hollered as he tried again for the handle. So close, so bloody close, a promise to end this horror. A mocking reprieve held just out of reach. Harry couldn't tell what direction he was going, couldn't tell up from down, sky from sea. All he knew was that there were a matter of seconds between the chance at life and the certainty of death.

Harry cried out, teeth gritted and eyes closed, as he blindly fought his invisible constraints and reached up for the handle one last time. His fingers grasped it just as Niall screamed, "Six thousand! Oh God! Harry! "

Harry yanked with every last ounce of his strength. Then a bomb blast detonated around him, windscreen blowing off with an explosion of sparks and the squeal of splintering metal. Harry's entire world was being ripped apart at the seams, just like the body of his beloved Georgia Rose.

Harry's seat launched up into the air, and that was it. Harry was out.

xxxxx

Harry could feel the wind on his face.

It was the first thing he registered after he slowly started to come back to himself, mind hazy and sluggish, body sore and heavy. It was a pleasant kind of breeze, something from a distant dream. A warm, soft gust that reminded him of summer flights with his Dad, pretending he was a Premier Delta pilot before Dad left to train the real ones. Harry didn't think he'd ever forget those endless days spent in his Dad's lap with his head in the clouds and eyes on the horizon.

One day, son. One day you'll know the happiness and heartbreak of being a pilot.

The memories welled inside of him as he drifted between here and gone, body floating just as aimlessly on the wind.

It felt like forever as Harry hung in suspension, waiting for something - anything - to pull him back from the past. The sound of flapping fabric rippled above him, and Harry slowly blinked his eyes open to the harsh light of the sun reflecting off the surface of the water. Water that was getting steadily closer with each labored breath Harry dragged into his body.

The second he hit the surface, he gasped at the sudden shock. The frigid water enveloped his body, startling him out of his fuzzy memories and back into the vivid horror of his reality.

The water was so cold. So bloody freezing that he was instantly numb, limbs unable to move of their own volition. He struggled with his belt, ripping it off and flailing to get himself clear of the harness. His legs tangled in the parachute as it gently and soundlessly fluttered down over him. He wasn't fully free of it before he was screaming out into the waves.