Warning for PTSD, war themes.


"It should be around here," Percy whispered, peering at the map with only the light from his flashlight, "so make sure you step carefully. Mines can detonate very easily —"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Quit being so overbearing, Perce, I know what I'm doing, and I know the risks. Hell, I've stepped on a mine and lived."

"That mine was faulty," Percy snapped. "It wasn't going to detonate. Now shut up, we're on enemy territory."

Oliver fell silent.

Missions like these were always tedious; one wrong step and they'd explode. It didn't help Percy's nerves that the enemy was nearby, but his commander had ordered him to find an escape route. It appeared that the only route went through this minefield, but thanks to a stealthy infiltration by George and acquiring this map, they knew exactly where the mines were. The tricky part was avoiding.

"Okay, there's a mine ahead of us," Percy whispered. "I need you to step to the right, take three steps forward, and step to the left."

Oliver edged around the mine and Percy followed; his forehead was beaded with sweat but he maintained a brave face.

"Are you nervous?" Oliver hissed.

"Of course not," Percy said in a low voice. "We're in enemy territory, their camp is right over there, and we're crossing a field full of mines just waiting to explode. Why would I be nervous?"

Oliver frowned, shifting his feet before he remembered where he was, and forced himself to stand still. "Give me the map."

"Why?"

"Just do it. You're clearly not in any state to lead, so just let me navigate."

Percy scowled, but he acquiesced wordlessly. Oliver took the flashlight and the map and quickly located where they were with a glance at their surroundings. But just to confirm, he asked Percy, "Where are we?"

With clammy fingers, Percy pointed out where they were and Oliver's eyes immediately zeroed in on the path he'd been aiming for.

"Okay, now we have to —" Oliver broke off as Percy's breaths became shallow and he dropped to his knees, holding his face in his hands.

"Percy, are you okay?" he asked, kneeling next to his comrade.

"F-Fred — h-he —"

And then the reason for Percy's meltdown, his nerves, his shallow breathing, it came slamming into Oliver.

Percy was remembering Fred's death.

"Shh," he murmured. Not because the enemy could hear them, but because Percy needed comfort. "I need you to breathe for me. Match my breaths. Can you do that?"

Percy nodded shakily and Oliver drew him closer to his chest so he could hear his breathing. Slowly but surely, Percy's breathing steadied. Oliver wiped the sweat off his forehead with a rag and helped him to his feet.

"Are you ready?" he asked calmly.

Percy nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.

"Okay. Follow me." Oliver held out a hand and Percy just stared at it blankly. "It's okay, just hold my hand. Everything's going to be fine. We'll be out of here before you know it."

Percy's hand slid easily into Oliver's and despite the situation, Oliver smiled.

"Let's go."


521 words