Warzone {Dunkirk H.S.}

9: The Waiting

Gwen tried to think about what would happen if the approaching soldiers decided to enter their hideout, their only barrier. Would she scream, or would she stay silent in the hope that somehow they would not see her in the dark? That if she made herself small enough, they would look past her? Would they fire more shots and kill those around her, easily at that, because of their close range and defencelessness, or would they get the chance to escape first? She tried to swallow her fear. There were a million possibilities, and the thoughts swirled around her head, as her eyesight began to falter and become blurred again – she realised that either she was going to pass out from anxiety and the ache of her wound, or that the tears brimming in her eyes were beginning to overflow. She wished that they would just pass already, so that she wouldn't have to deal with the splintering pain any longer. Vivian clutched the medical supplies tightly, they were right there – it was agony to have to wait for relief. Gwen could tell that Peter felt the same as she turned to him and saw him trying to repress his shallow breaths.

She stayed perfectly still as she gazed ahead at the empty doorframe, half-afraid that her raging heartbeat was so loud that it would give them away. Her eyes went to Tommy – and there he stood, backed up closely against the wall, a finger firmly pressed to his lips. Though he wasn't looking at her, his eyes trained on the door, she could see the flickers of panic and fear passing through them – and she wanted to get to her feet and let him collapse into a hug, he looked so tired and so quietly scared, and it reminded her of their childhood days. She remembered the times when she would convince him to go up into the town with her at dusk, telling him they were searching for an adventure. She remembered how, at the sound of something unknown, they would both freeze with fear, and Tommy would shush her frightened squeals with the same gesture, a shaky hand against his lips, a little boy trying to be the bravest he could; just so that she would not have to be afraid too. He was almost the same in her eyes – and for a moment she saw the old him. She knew then, that no amount of pain caused by either the war or her wounds or anything else could ever hurt her more than the raw fear she would have felt if she hadn't come after him. No matter how many times she may have regretted her decision, no matter what came with it – he was worth it, getting him home would be worth every second of the struggle they faced.

All of a sudden, the faraway footsteps came to a halt right outside the doorway. Tommy stiffened and looked uneasy, but his features lit up in recognition when he realised the voices were in fact French, not German – at least, he was quite sure they were. If they were not – he would be throwing himself out to be easily blown to bits, but at this point; it was bound to happen either way. He leapt forward the instant they appeared in clear sight, weapons in hand, and held his hands up, waving them in a flurry of desperate surrender.

"Don't shoot! We're English! Anglais!" He exclaimed, a slight tone of panic in his voice, as he slowed his breathing and stared ahead with wide eyes. The soldiers spoke incomprehensibly, as Tommy tried to understand, the uneasiness fading from him, instead being replaced with confusion – Vivian noticeably relaxed and let out a deep breath, turning instantly around to Gwen, supplies in hand. Peter furrowed his eyebrows – both in bewilderment and in pain, and let out a frustrated, shaking sigh – Gwen could not tell whether it was mostly from anger or relief.

"B-Bloody hell, I thought we were all going to die," He rasped out, growing weaker by the minute from his blood loss. Gwen frowned at the mention of death, feeling her heartbeat slow and start at the same time – though the possibility of it was ever-looming, she never wanted to face the thought of it. Vivian pushed her frazzled hair back and slid closer to the injured Gwen and Peter. Harry glanced up at Tommy and the French soldiers, then back at Gwen and Vivian and the medical supplies, and reluctantly shifted away so that Gwen could lean against the wall and be treated. She released his hand from her clasp after almost a moment too long, leaving him with a somewhat longing look as he unsteadily climbed to his feet – the mere gesture itself, knowing that she did not want to even let him leave from beside her, was enough to fuel the adrenaline already pumping through him, the rush turning a little sweeter as he sent her a reassuring smile. Vivian carefully and nervously guided Gwen out of her damp coat, her face darkening as her fingers brushed over the bloodstained patch. Gwen's impractical dress was torn at the shoulder, and as Gwen unsurely glanced to see the full extent of the damage, she gasped and immediately clenched her eyes shut, turning away, feeling lightheaded, still half in-shock that what had happened was actually real. Vivian bit down on her lip and gulped slowly, looking at Peter, who seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness.