Just a heads up, this chapter is a bit violent. It's nothing too graphic, but I wanted to warn you just in case.
_-_-_
Niall wields a weapon like he never stopped. The weight of the rifle in his hands is familiar, if not warmer than he remembers.
When he takes the first shot, the vibration is familiar.
The gunpowder in his face is familiar.
The ringing in his ears is familiar.
The sight of a man falling on the battlefield below is familiar.
He goes through the motions of reloading the gun, his hands fast and fingers nimble, and within seconds, he has the rifle set on the root again, taking aim.
Shot.
Vibration.
Gunpowder.
Ringing.
Body hits the ground.
Repeat.
Familiar.
Within a few minutes, Niall has repeated the process six times. With each shot, a man falls. Whether or not they stay on the ground, he's unsure. Whether or not someone crawls to them, he's unsure. Whether or not they whisper their final words, he's unsure. Whether or not he's taken another life, he's unsure.
He's unsure if every shot lands, if every shot counts, if every shot gets them one step to the end.
But it will end.
He's absolutely sure of that.
"Niall!" He hears behind him, and it's unfamiliar.
It's not part of the process.
Shot. Vibration. Gunpowder. Ringing. Body hits the ground.
"Niall!" He hears again, and it throws off the first step. The shot goes astray, ricocheting off a tree and into the ground.
The vibration causes him to drop the gun.
The gunpowder blinds him for a moment. He didn't turn his head in time.
The ringing seems louder.
A body doesn't hit the ground.
Unfamiliar.
At the third call of his name, Niall finally sits up and looks back. Louis is calling him from a few meters away.
"Colonel says fall forward."
A familiar command.
He gets into a crouched position and crawls forward on his hands and knees, taking up a post behind a tree. The roots are underground, but he should be close enough to not need a scoping position.
He glances around the tree a few times to get his bearings on the change of position, and then falls into rhythm.
Shot. Vibration. Gunpowder. Ringing. Body hits the ground.
Familiar.
Familiar.
Familiar.
He gets a few more shots off before he's told to move up again, by a different person this time. He's nearing the edge of the woods. Soon enough, he'll have to stand again, and march into the thick of it.
No more protection.
Yet still, familiar.
Maybe even more so.
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Before You Start A War
Fanfiction"I'd rather die fighting for my life than live cowering in fear." (Or the one where Harry goes to fight for the Union, and Niall chooses to take the place of his uncle's young slave in the Confederate Army.) Inspired by: Harry's role in Dunkirk and...
