withstanding the war. ➳ au styles. [on hold; indefinitely] [in editing]

Chapter Ten.

2 months later

Harry’s POV

I ducked my head behind our makeshift barrier, just in time for my ears to pick up the loud booming noise and for dirt to cover me in a thin sheet. After the explosion, I looked to my left and right, making sure everyone made it back okay, especially my dearest friend. I found him a bit of a way down, eyes squinted shut, clutching onto his gun like a child with their most treasured toy.

I started to crawl towards him, in hopes to ease his scared mind. Unfortunately, another bomb went off and I was forced to freeze and curl up into another ball like shape, waiting for my anxiety to clear. The sound seemed closer than the last and it scared me just a bit. I waited a few seconds before I started crawling again. Niall was still in the exact same position he was in when I first spotted him.

“Niall?” I whispered, not wanting to frighten him anymore than he already looked.

He jumped up at my words, but quickly remembered where we were and crouched back down. His eyes were wide when he first heard my voice, concerned that I could be something more dangerous. After he realized it was me, he seemed to calm, but only because someone was there with him. Ever since we had moved to the front lines, Niall was always fidgety and restless, nervous for the worse that could happen to us.

It was quite a contrast to what he was like when we were at camp. At camp, he seemed so confident, so secure with what the war would ask of him. But since we had been asked to move up to the front lines, he did not seem sure of anything but his own name. It had seemed like someone had replaced him with a five-year-old child. He barely knew how to hold the gun straight, let alone knowing what the trigger was. And even he could remember how to fire a weapon; he couldn’t stop the nervous shakes that he constantly had.

It was a sad sight to watch. I had tried to comfort him and calm him down to concentrate, but it was hard to get through to him. Most nights, I would get him chuckling at my incredibly lame jokes, but as soon as ‘lights out’ came, I couldn’t control the tears and hiccups that escaped him. I had wanted to soothe him because he was like my brother and I did not want him to be scared. But I knew that it was the one time he had that he didn’t have to try to pretend he was strong.

It was challenging to still be his bunk buddy. I wanted to be there for him; he shut most people out so no one talked to him. It was just difficult to listen to him cry just about every night. I could not handle listening to his hiccups become snores, a sign he cried himself to sleep. I spent part of night thinking about him and thinking of some way I could ease his mind, but nothing clicked.

The other part of the night was thinking about Marilyn. She seemed like she was worlds away from me, but still managed to keep me collected. She was always sending me updates on how our unborn child was doing, and apparently, he or she was making wonderful progress. Marilyn said she could definitely see the baby’s progress as her stomach was starting to grow in size. She also said that she wanted me to be there to watch it all happen, but it was impossible for me to do so.  So instead, she asked my permission for Josh to take pictures of her just so I could see, and I let her know it was fine.

She had noticed my transformation since my beginning days. I would constantly talk about my days here on the front lines, reminding her it was one day closer to seeing her. She admired my bravery, and hoped our child would follow in my footsteps. She was proud of myself, for overcoming my fears of everything the war had to offer and doing what I needed to. I had finally confessed to her about Niall, and I was anxiously waiting for her response on what I should do with the poor lad. I was hoping her third party and slightly unbiased opinion would help me with him.