Harry

The moment I step into the mess hall, Louis and Liam wave me over, smiles on their faces. It's strange how they're so cheerful after what happened with Vortex yesterday, I don't think I'd be able to function, but that just might be because war affects me more than them. Surprisingly, there weren't as many losses as I had originally thought; apparently my quick reaction and aborting the mission had helped save many lives that could've been taken. Sometimes my panic and overreacting are not such a bad thing.

After grabbing my usual breakfast, I walk toward the table, plopping on the seat next to Liam, patting him on the back. Much to my displeasure, my eyes search for the person that seems to be absent. Her brother is here, chatting with Louis, but the seat next to him is empty and I can't help but wonder why. A frown overtakes my face as I scold myself internally. Why do I even care?

"Styles!" Louis calls loudly, snapping me from my thoughts. "Where are you, mate? I asked you a question."

"It's still early," I grumble. "What is it?"

"We've been wondering if you'd like to come to this little gathering we're planning tonight," Liam says. "It's in our flat, it'll be fun. We all need to relax a bit."

I don't know why do they even bother asking anymore, I always decline. I've been declining their offers for two years now, ever since things have changed, since I've changed. "No," I reply flatly. "I'll be busy."

"Are you sure?" Niall asks, his lips pulling in a hopeful smile.

"I said no." Fuck, I'm so bitter and they're fairly good at making me remember that fact without even knowing. If I went to the gathering, it just wouldn't be the same, there would be one person missing and I'd be constantly reminded of it. I just can't deal with that, no matter how strong I'm trying to appear, in reality I'm not.

Niall's smile falters and he simply nods, shifting his gaze to his meal. The atmosphere changes drastically and I know it's because of me. Annoyance suddenly takes over me, my appetite disappearing. I slam my palm against the table, the chair screeching on the ground as I stand up, gaining everyone's attention. A deep frown settles on my face as I quickly walk toward the exit, leaving the mess hall.

I don't know where I'm headed until I find myself standing in front of the building where children are settled, my feet carrying me inside. The minute I step inside, my anger and tension slowly diminish, just like it happens every time I surround myself with them; their innocence and hearts untainted by war bringing a smile to my face.

I peek inside the training room, hearing laughter and chatter, seeing young trainees working with trainers. Again, my eyes search for the person that is once again absent, despite the fact her duty for this week is training these kids. I force myself to push away the thoughts about her, deciding to step back and make my way toward the rooms where smaller children are settled. We made sure they're constantly protected from any possible harm, so their rooms are located underground and guarded 24/7.

There aren't many children in here, mostly because no one wants to bring a child and raise them while the world is in war. The children here are either sons and daughters of older soldiers in Hazard or orphans rescued from the harsh environment. The youngest is six years old, I haven't seen a newborn in almost a decade.

I descend down the stairs, walking into the chilly hallway, its walls decorated with children's drawings. If anyone wants to find peace in the middle of the war, this is where they should look for it; among children. When I reach the children's playroom, I raise my hand to knock on the door, my fingers curling around the handle and twisting it, opening the door. I step inside, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the sight of Elena sitting on the ground surrounded by a handful of kids, Tommy and Alice included.

"Am I interrupting something?" I ask amusedly, closing the door. I can't help a huge grin that spreads on my lips when all the children bolt up, running toward me enthusiastically, their giggles erupting through the room.

I crouch down, making sure to greet each of them individually so they don't feel left out, engaging in a conversation with them. My eyes glance at Elena at one point, seeing a faint smile on her lips, her eyes already trained on me. Involuntarily, I smile in return, my gaze shifting on Alice who is trying to get my attention.

"What is it, little dove?" I ask her, looking at her brown eyes and rosy cheeks.

"Uh. . . nothing," she replies, her eyes glancing at all the other children. She's always been incredibly shy and she doesn't really speak a lot, except with me and a few other people she genuinely feels comfortable with.

"Okay, kids, go find Tara and tell her H said you can get a treat, yeah?" I tell them gently, watching as their faces light up in excitement. They all scurry toward the door, their feet lightly stomping down the hallway, their cheers echoing throughout it.

"Alright, what is it?" I whisper to the little girl who knows I did this for her. Without a word, her frail arms spread open, engulfing around my neck. My arms wind around her small body, a smile curving my lips. "Ooh, so that was the problem. You didn't get a hug."

"You give the best hugs," she whispers, my smile only growing. I pull away slightly, finding an equally big smile on her face, my heart swelling at the sight. At least I can make someone happy in these desperate times. "Will you continue your story, Ellie?" Her body turns so she can look at Elena, my eyebrow raising at the nickname she used for her.

"Sure, but later, when everyone can hear it, is that okay?" Elena asks her and Alice nods. "Go get your treat and remember what I told you, yeah?"

Much to my surprise, Alice walks over to her and gives her a quick hug, Elena's expression changing in surprise. Before she can even return it, Alice pulls away, happily running out of the room.

My lips pull in a half-smile as I look at her questioningly. "Is there something I should know? I mean, she's terrified of interactions with new people, and you've been on this duty for a few days yet she's already hugging you."

"I don't know why, but kids love me," she replies, a knowing smile on her face. "Sorry if I ruined your time with them, Tommy was very persuasive and talked me into telling them a few stories. He's already a charmer, that boy."

"That he is. And it's okay, as the matter of fact I was wondering where you are, you skipped breakfast," I admit, mentally slapping myself. She might take this the wrong way, I'm only trying to make sure she's doing her duty.

Yeah, that's it. Right.

"I wasn't hungry," she mutters quietly.

"Welp, alright then," I say, beginning to leave the room, but stopping myself suddenly. Why the fuck am I now wondering if something's wrong? Shit. "Okay, what's the matter?" I ask, turning again to face her.

Her hazel eyes lock with mine, searching for something. I sigh, my lips pursing. "You're about to give me that 'I'm totally fine even though something's eating me alive, but still I don't want to tell you because we're not that close' bullshit, aren't you?" I say in a slightly high-pitched tone, trying to imitate her voice.

She laughs with that same ridiculous laughter again, causing me to barely stop myself from laughing. "That's surprisingly true."

"Shocker," I mutter, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. "Follow me." We look at each other for a few seconds and laugh as this must be the tenth time I've said this to her.

We silently walk toward the gym, all the way to my training room. It's the only place in the whole base where I know I will be left alone. When she steps inside after me, I make sure to close the door, my hand twisting the key in the lock in case someone tries to enter. I don't want anyone to get the wrong impression.

"Is this room something like your safe haven?" Elena asks. "I don't want to pry, it's just a thought," she adds quickly.

"You're perceptive and not just in this case, has anyone told you that?" I tell her, recalling how she had recognised the soldiers on the tape and helped us prevent a war with Rogue. I lower myself on one of the mats lined on the floor and pat the space next to me, signalling it's okay for her to sit down. Honestly, I don't know why I brought her here, or why do I even care, I just know I'll overthink this later and annoy myself. But for now, I might as well satisfy my curiosity.

Elena smiles and shakes her head as if she's remembered something. "You could say that's one of the reasons I'm here." She sits beside me on the mat, close enough so our arms are almost touching.

"Alright, what's up, buttercup?" I ask her, attempting to lighten the mood. I don't even know where that came from, but I sure as hell know it's embarrassing. A slight blush paints my cheeks, but I frown quickly, putting on a careless façade.

Elena lets out a puff of a laugh, her head bent low, her high ponytail hanging on the side, brushing her left cheek. "War," she replies, every trace of her light mood disappearing. "What happened yesterday keeps running through my head."

"I thought we agreed that wasn't your fault," I remind her, leaning back on my hands.

"Oh, I know that. It's just. . . there was this little girl yesterday. She was from Vortex, sent to fight on the battlefield, which ultimately led to her death," she tells me, her hazel eyes moving to look into mine, a flash of sadness appearing in them. "That shouldn't have happened, she shouldn't have been there. War is not for the innocent, yet they are the most affected ones."

"I couldn't agree more," I say. "But then again, we were all innocent once. As much as we try, there's nothing we can do to protect them, they'll have to face the war once. I did as much as I could to shield them from it, making sure we don't send our soldiers on any mission before they turn eighteen. But it's inevitable, they'll lose their innocence at last."

"But not when they're still so young," she says. "Alex and I went through that at a very young age and our childhood was taken from us. I think that rule is great, it shows how much you care about those kids." She smiles as her eyes search my features.

"Wait a minute, so you admit rules are great? I thought you hated rules," I remark, a playful smile resting on my lips.

"This rule is acceptable," she says, letting out a chuckle. "As long as it doesn't apply to me, it's great. Forget the rules."

I laugh, my teeth pulling at my lip ring. "So rebellious, aren't you, Tiger?"

"Or I'm just a bitch," she says jokingly. "Why do you keep calling me tiger?"

"Because you're feisty," I say. "You seem very harmless with your big doe eyes, but you attack when people least expect it. I think the nickname fits."

She doesn't make any comments, only looks at me with a faint smile on her face. "I feel like no one understands," she says after a few moments. "The battle is over for everyone once they move from the field, but for me, the battle can last for days."

Her sudden change of subject slightly takes me by surprise, but not more than her statement. "I understand," I say honestly, causing her to look at me warily. "No, I do. War just affects you more than them."

A soft smile briefly plays on her lips, her knees lifting up to her chest, her arms winding themselves around them. My eyes drift to her shoulder, the black flame tattoo suddenly evoking the memories I'm always so desperately trying to keep locked away. My heart starts pounding in my chest, my eyes instinctively screwing shut, blocking the sight of presence while my mind keeps flashing images of my past.

I quickly shoot up from the mat, my lips parting to allow my lungs to get more air, my hands clutching my head as if that will prevent the memories from attacking me. Gunfire soon reverberates around me, a strong sense of panic washing over me. "Please stop. Please, please. . ." I mumble, barely managing to tell apart the reality from the memories.

"H," a soft voice calls me, almost appearing as a figment of my imagination. "Open your eyes. Look at me." I don't know if I'm imagining things, but I feel someone's light touch on my cheeks. "Please, H, just open your eyes."

After a few moments, I manage to force my eyes open, green irises meeting hazel ones. Elena. "This is real, okay? I'm real. You're safe."

It takes me good five seconds to react and snap from my daze, a realisation where am I dawning upon me. My eyes frantically search the room before settling on Elena, her eyes worriedly scanning my face. "Hey, it's alright. You're okay."

My heart is starting to slow down its frantic pace, the air finally managing to flow into my lungs without any troubles. When I register Elena's palms pressed against my cheeks, my heart skips a beat, but for a different reason this time. I don't know what she sees when she looks into my eyes, but one of her hands soothingly moves to my hair, pushing the slightly damp curls sticking to my forehead away.

"Are you with me?" She asks softly, not removing her hands from my face, a strange satisfaction and a sense of comfort coming from her touch.

"Yes," I reply quietly, my voice cracking slightly. She's seen me in my most vulnerable state more than once and both times she remained calm and knew exactly what to do instead of running to look for Ethan like some people would do. I feel a sense of appreciation toward her because of it.

"It's PTSD, isn't it?" She asks, her fingers still running through my hair, bringing comfort to my tormented mind.

"I wish this had a name, it'd be possible to treat it," I reply, a slight scoff pushing past my lips. "It's guilt in its worst form."

Absentmindedly, I raise my hand, my palm cupping her hand pressed against my cheek. My body moves closer to hers as my head lowers just slightly, my face now mere centimetres from hers. Her lips part, hazel eyes flicking down at my lips before connecting with my own. It doesn't take me too long to lower my mouth onto hers, my lips slotting between hers, lingering there for a few seconds.

"Thank you," I whisper as I disconnect our lips. I know it's wrong and I always end up doing this, most probably confusing her and myself, but I brush past her, walking toward the exit without sparing her a glance. I leave, because it's easier that way.

I'm emotionally drained from my recent episode, from every confusing second spent with Elena, from overthinking everything. My hands are itching to punch, but I can't do that now, I can only run. Run from my problems, from my past, from myself.

. . . .

a/n: IMPORTANT: I just want to say that PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) is a very serious condition and Harry is suffering from symptoms similar to it, but they will be exaggerated for the purpose of the story. That means I won't use the term PTSD to name his condition since it wouldn't be 100% accurately portrayed.