Chapter Text
Will bit his lips as he sat up, tried to gauge time through the shadows cast by a small slit near the ceilings. It was probably night time, and most in the bunker were asleep. Sleep was a gift that rarely happened to Will, so he allowed himself to count the roaches scuttering across the walls. There had to be at least a dozen of them. Once he might have cringed, but compared to the other things he witnessed lately, a bunch of insects meant nothing. He'd gladly exchange battling bugs everyday to this.
Will rubbed at his temples as his neighbour, cramped into the same space next to him, began thrashing wildly in his sleep. Tears were always commonplace in the bunker, along with nightmares.
"No! Don't take her, don't take my-"
"Hey, wake up, Matthew," Will shook him by his shoulders, narrowly missing a punch to his nose. "Hey!"
Matthew's eyes snapped open, blank and unseeing as he clutched at Will. "Where have you taken her?"
Will swatted at his hand, and peered into Matthew's face. He made an effort to make himself sound calm. "Matthew, we're in Germany. Your wife is safe back home. It was all a dream, okay?"
Will watched as lucidity began creeping back into Matthew's face, the spark of realization before it crumbled into resignation. He slumped back against the wall, let out a shaky breath.
"This is how it's gonna end, isn't it? They put us here together, wait for us to die. Cheaper and easier than gassing."
A bark of laughter.
"It doesn't necessarily end that way." Will said, words lacking conviction. He looked away now, uncomfortable with eye contact now that Matthew's awake.
"That's not what you think." And after a beat, Matthew gestured towards the rest of platoon, "Just look at them."
Will usually tried not to look, because hearing and smelling were enough, there wasn't a need to add to his growing anxiety. It wasn't so much of the stench here that gets to him, it was the moaning, the crying, and above all the pain.
Will felt it, he couldn't help it, but he's there, right with them when they're thinking about their family, oh what would they do without me? The fear, overwhelming and dangerous, all the uncertainty. They were unraveling at the seams, and Will would too, if he allowed their feelings to crash into his. But at times he weren't even sure anymore, he didn't know if his thoughts were solely his, not when they're all going through the same thing together.
Together.
What a funny word. Positively negative in such an environment. Hunger, killings, deaths, war. They all go through it together. They bring back their dead comrades when it's all over, but leave parts of themselves back in the horror. Soldiers never ever come back whole.
We're better off dead.
Will shook his head and breathed out, trying to stop his impending panic attack. He allowed his eyes to sweep over the cell, just a quick scan, but regretted it almost immediately. One or two of them had died a few days ago from septic wounds, and the guards didn't bother to remove their bodies from the cell. The ones closer to them had moved themselves further in an attempt to stay away from the fetid corpses, but in a space so cramped there were only so much they could move. Will was somewhat glad that he got the spot closer to the door.
There were muck on the floor too, due to the lack of proper sanitation everyone was sitting in their own piss and shit. It won't be long before people start falling sick, or til their meager biscuit ration ran out. Will wondered if they would resort to eating one another. Desperation often drove men to madness. Madness would be a relief, he thought. It would be like a fresh drink of spring water. Nothing else to worry about.
"You know what's a good way to go?" Matthew asked.
Will tilted his head.
"Taking a chunk out of Lecter." Matthew smiled, edges all wrong and lopsided. "I'd run right up to him, they can shoot me, beat me, whatever, but I'd still run. I'd take a bite right out of that bastard's face before I die."
That'd teach that Nazi motherfucker. But it's too damn light a punishment. How many of us has he killed? How many women and children, like Jenny and George has he sent to die? I'd-
Will blocked out Matthew's train of thoughts about the current general, and started counting the roaches again, to prevent himself from getting too deep into Matthew's head. He must have dozed off for a bit, for he was rudely shaken awake later.
"Wha-"
"There are people here." Matthew whispered.
Will sat up, wary. There was a muted frenzy, an unspoken hope in the air. Did their general come back? Could they go home? Anticipation blanketed the cell as the footsteps outside stopped. Will sucked in a breath.
"We are coming in and getting a few of you out. If you move without our permission, I will personally shoot you in the face. Understand?"
Will deflated, hope wiped clean. They were once again gaunt, listless.
The door opened outwards, and everyone squinted at the light that trickled in, unused to the brightness. The guard stood at the door, flanked by two others. He pulled out sheets of paper from his front pocket.
"When I call your name, come up to the front-"
A sudden shout and movement had Will's eyes jumping to a running figure. Cheeks sunken and legs wobbly, he had the gait of a newborn deer, but he was still trying, running towards the light streaming in from behind the guard. Everyone held their collective breath, a sickened fascination with the brave soul. A loud bang ricocheted across the room, and the figure stood still.
Run, what are you doing? Run! Will wanted to shout, but then he realised the cause of his immobility.
A bullet had gone through his head, and his blood caused an abstract splash pattern on the people around him. Cheeks, mouth, forehead, arm, clothes.
"As I was saying, come up to the front, and don't you pigs try anything like that or you will end up like him." The guard continued nonchalantly, began reading the names of the first row of his list.
Faintly, Will registered his name being called, and he had to drag himself upwards, still in shock. He went to the guards, who put shackles around both his wrists and ankles. He was pushed roughly to the side, but all Will could see was the blood, pouring, rivulets and streams. The first drop came from the ceiling, and when it touched the floor it exploded into waves, rushing into him, the impact breaking him.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
"His name was Tobias Budge." Will muttered, eyes still on the ground. He had met him, sat at the same table a few times during training. He was a little odd, but wasn't that bad a guy. He had morals and principles, and two kids at home. His wife had passed a few years ago, and his kids soon to be if he doesn't return home safely.
Will tasted metal in his mouth, and he looked up, into glaring heat.
Sunlight.
He looked around, bewildered. Everyone around him had a tool in their hands, and they were shoveling dirt onto wheelbarrows, waiting to be thrown. Will lifted a finger to his lips, and it came away red.
"Oi, you!"
Will blinked, looked at the beefy man storming towards him. He stood in a daze as the man stopped in front of him, his neck a nasty shade of purple.
"What the fuck are you doing?" His accent was heavy.
"I- uh, I don't know." Will blubbered.
The man narrowed his eyes, and lifted his hand ready to strike Will, but was interrupted when an unknown person, equally unkempt as Will, spoke.
"Sorry, sir, he's just a bit," The unknown person looped his finger around his temple, signifying Will's mental distress. "We'll go back to work right now."
Will opened his mouth, ready to protest, but the unknown person had already steered him away, pulled him off to one side.
"What the hell, Will? You can't just take Gruper on like that." His eyebrows were raised.
"Who?"
"Gruper, that big guy who was about to shoot you?"
"No, I, wait, who are you? And where am I?" Will pinched his nose bridge, feeling a headache coming on. He was dizzy, parched, and this person wasn't helping at all.
"Don't play with me Will, not funny."
"I'm serious, the guards were calling me outside my cell, and now I'm here, I really-" Will breathed, gripping at his root. "I must have lost time, or something. I don't know."
Something in Will's face must have shown, because the stranger was now reassessing Will incredulously.
"You weren't kidding, huh." A pause, and then, "You're in a labour camp currently, and my name is Brian Zeller. We've been here for approximately a week."
A week. Will's stomach content promptly erupted onto the floor.