seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Georgia
seen from China
seen from Italy
seen from Macao SAR China
seen from Maldives
masterlist - what remains
an Iraqi med student is forced into a war she didn’t choose, and falls for the soldier who never meant to stay
warfare: sam x ofc
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve
chapter thirteen
chapter fourteen
chapter fifteen
chapter sixteen
chapter seventeen
chapter eighteen
chapter nineteen
chapter twenty
chapter twenty-one
chapter twenty-two
(15) what remains
title: what remains
fandom: warfare
word count: 1130
synopsis: an Iraqi med student is forced into a war she didn’t choose, and falls for the soldier who never meant to stay
She wasn’t breathing.
Layla’s hands hovered for half a second, her mind blanking, body refusing to believe what she already knew. Mina’s tiny chest didn’t rise. Her lips were pale, her eyes dull and half-lidded, her skin ashen and slick with fever sweat.
Then the moment shattered.
(20) what remains
title: what remains
fandom: warfare
word count: 899
synopsis: an Iraqi med student is forced into a war she didn’t choose, and falls for the soldier who never meant to stay
The hospital walls were quieter now, but it was the kind of quiet that always felt temporary. Like calm air before another wave crashed down.
The corridor smelled of antiseptic and sweat, but underneath it all was something sharper: metal and smoke, clinging to the walls like an old memory. The tiles under Layla’s feet were slick with invisible filth, a thin layer of dust tracked in from boots and blood. The overhead lights buzzed intermittently, flickering in and out like they were tired too.
(14) what remains
title: what remains
fandom: warfare
word count: 1520
synopsis: an Iraqi med student is forced into a war she didn’t choose, and falls for the soldier who never meant to stay
The sky outside had started to shift, not quite dark, not quite light. The gray hour where everything looked blurred, drained of color. The kind of light that made faces seem hollow and rooms feel colder than they were.
Layla stood near the cracked window, arms crossed over her chest, watching dust spin through the air like ash. She was close to the narrow kitchen counter, where someone had abandoned a radio beside an empty tin of powdered milk. Dust clung to everything — the cracked tiles, the peeling plaster, the half-burned curtain fluttering weakly against the open window. She watched the dust dance, hollow and slow, like the air itself was waiting to breathe again.
(9) what remains
title: what remains
fandom: warfare
word count: 453
synopsis: an Iraqi med student is forced into a war she didn’t choose, and falls for the soldier who never meant to stay
The silence after the second blast was worse than the noise.
It settled over the small bedroom like ash - heavy, clinging, breathless. Dust floated in the narrow shaft of sunlight sneaking past the edge of the boarded-up window. The floor trembled still, groaning softly beneath them as if the very foundation of the house had loosened its grip.
Layla crouched low by the bed, her arms around Samir, who was shaking so badly she could feel it in her bones. Her mother pressed close behind her, whispering old prayers - half-remembered fragments, muttered between clenched teeth. Zaid, their neighbor, stood by the door with one arm stretched protectively in front of Mina, his daughter, who whimpered softly and coughed into his shirt.
(7) what remains
title: what remains
fandom: warfare
word count: 621
synopsis: an Iraqi med student is forced into a war she didn’t choose, and falls for the soldier who never meant to stay
The upstairs felt smaller in daylight.
It wasn’t brighter - the windows had been blocked with blankets and furniture, casting a dull amber haze over everything - but now Layla could see the details she’d missed before. The scorched edge of the floorboards near the blast, the blackened hole in the far wall. Blood had dried in a crescent arc down the hallway, and the house - once someone else’s home - now smelled of sweat, antiseptic, and gun oil.
Layla stepped lightly, her bag slung over one shoulder. No one stopped her this time. They all knew why she was here.
She found Elliott in what had once been a study - the bookshelves were bare, their contents piled into a barricade by the window. He lay propped against a wall of blankets, half-conscious. His skin was clammy, but his breathing was steadier than before. She knelt beside him and gently checked the dressing, adjusting the gauze, mindful not to wake him fully.
(3) what remains
title: what remains
fandom: warfare
word count: 960
synopsis: an Iraqi med student is forced into a war she didn’t choose, and falls for the soldier who never meant to stay
The day had started too quiet.
That kind of quiet always meant something bad was about to happen. Layla felt it in her spine. Even the dust in the air hung heavier, like the sky was holding its breath.
The house groaned with movement upstairs. Boots on wood. Low voices. Clicks of gear. The American soldiers had made themselves at home in the upper floor of the neighbor’s house. Radios buzzed. Sometimes, laughter filtered down like ghosts through the ceiling. Layla didn’t understand how they could laugh here.
(19) what remains
title: what remains
fandom: warfare
word count: 1238
synopsis: an Iraqi med student is forced into a war she didn’t choose, and falls for the soldier who never meant to stay
The hallway outside Mina’s room was dim and quiet, the kind of quiet that felt too thin, like it might tear at any moment.
Layla leaned her shoulder against the doorframe for a moment, bracing herself before pushing it open.
Inside, the lights were low, and the soft hum of machines created a rhythmic white noise. The little girl lay under a rough hospital blanket, an oxygen mask strapped over her face, her chest rising and falling with effort. A nurse had cleaned the blood and grime from her small hands, and her wrists now bore soft bruises from where she’d been held down in panic.
