Before You Start A War

Chapter Eleven

That afternoon, after Harry finished eating his lunch, he returns to the kitchen aides, who provide him with a small meal for Niall. Harry sighs at the small ration of hardtack and small cup of water, but continues on his way to where Niall is being kept in an underground shelter that Harry believes used to be a cellar in case of a tornado. He feels like he's walking in Niall's shoes, back when they were kept in the barn, since he's bringing him his food and has a lantern tied to his uniform, just like Niall used to do for him.

Harry pulls the wooden door open, stepping down into the dank cellar, coughing slightly as it closes behind him. Thankfully, there are wall lanterns for Harry to light so he can see Niall better. He places the hardtack and water cup down, lifting the lantern and holding the flame of the wall lamps on each side of the door, lighting the room up slowly. After lighting four of them, he's finally able to see the entirety of Niall's body, slumped over and leaning against the wall. Harry would've thought he was dead if it wasn't for the sounds of his shallow breathing.

"Niall," Harry calls, lighting the final lantern just above Niall's head. Niall perks up slightly, recoiling back further into the wall. "it's me, Niall. I'm not here to hurt you." He steps closer to the man, who almost appears as a corpse.

Niall remains silent, but does look in Harry's direction. Their gazes catch, and Harry holds his breath at Niall's pain-stricken face, tear streaks on his cheeks.

"I have some food for you." Harry sits down next to him, placing the water cup on the ground and handing over the hardtack. "Here." Niall looks down at the biscuit, then back up at Harry. He makes to reach for it, but the movement causes him to groan and fall back against the wall again.

Harry inches closer, leaning into Niall. "What did they do to you?" He whispers, wanting to just take all of Niall's pain away.

"The men... my former comrades..." Niall stutters over his words, another tear rolling from his left eye and down his face.

Harry sits with him as he cries. He feels like Niall hasn't had a chance to actually cry in such a long time, especially around any of the other men. They'd all claim he was weak and feminine, bullying him into manning up. So he's suppressed his feelings, probably for months now.

After a few minutes, Niall again reaches for his food. Harry hands it to him, and Niall nods as a thank you. He breaks off a small piece of the biscuit, bringing it to his mouth.

Harry smiles after Niall takes his first bite, obviously enjoying the food. "Much better than corn bread, yeah?"

Niall nods, taking another bite. Harry lifts up his cup of water as well and offers it to him. Niall takes it gratefully, taking a small sip, as if to preserve it. "Tired of that bland shit."

Harry responds with a small laugh, leaning against the wall next to his friend. "Tell me about it. Getting half a slice every day for a month wasn't very fun."

Niall takes another bite instead of replying, relishing the flavor. For another few minutes, Niall eats slowly, all while Harry watches him. He looks over Niall's face again, taking in his wounds. He doesn't want to think about what's hidden under Niall's uniform.

After Niall finished his food, he continues to sip on his water. He knows he'll probably have to give the cup back, but he wants to savor it as long as he can.

"Hey," Harry starts, "tomorrow I'll bring in some medical stuff and we can clean you up. Don't want you dying on me." Harry says it as a joke, but there's a bit of seriousness behind his voice. Now that he can, Harry's going to do everything in his power to keep Niall safe and well.

Niall finishes his water and returns the cup to Harry, smiling at him. "Thank you."

"No problem." Harry smiles back, taking the cup, placing it behind him. "Uhm, how did this happen? I mean, how did you get here? You said you weren't going to run away?"

Niall sighs, sitting up straighter, groaning as one of his bruises bends uncomfortably. He's grown used to clothes irritating his cuts, but every now and then he'll feel a sharp tug and he knows the skin forming over the wounds are being rubbed raw constantly. "They gave me a choice. I could either walk away and never show my face again, or be tortured and left to die. One in the same, basically, since they beat me to a bloody pulp before sending me on my way. I think they were expecting me to die in the wilderness, and honestly, I thought I was going to. But your men... they found me. I was just stumbling around, and suddenly I was on the ground, being tied up and forced to come back here. I blacked-out for a little bit, so I have no idea where I am." Niall sends Harry a look. "Thought I'd mention that because apparently I'm making a map now?"

Harry laughs awkwardly, sucking in a breath. "I just said that to buy you some time. You don't actually have to do it. I have the map you gave me still, so we can just add stuff to it little by little to hold them over."

"Hmm. Smart." Niall praises. Harry nods and bites his lip.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you. You don't deserve to be treated like this, by anyone." Harry looks down at his lap. "You're such a kind, caring person. How'd you get roped into something as violent as a war?"

Niall shrugs, "I could ask you the same question."

The two fall into a few moments of silence, reminiscing on their reasons for being in this predicament in the first place.

"All right, well," Harry stands up, his knees popping after being stretched out for so long. "I'll be back tomorrow with more food and first aid for your wounds. Try to get some rest."

"I will. Thanks, Harry." Niall responds, leaning back against the wall further, slipping down so he's almost lying down.

"See you later, Niall." With that, Harry blows out the wall lamps, all but the one above Niall's head to give him some light. Harry knew how awful it was to always be trapped in darkness, so he won't put Niall through the same. He opens the door of the cellar, squinting his eyes to see out through the sun shining down on him.

He turns back once more toward Niall, seeing him lying in the same position he was in when he first came in. It must be the most comfortable way to lie with all his wounds and bruises.

He closes the cellar door behind him softly, locking it in place, before walking back to the kitchen aides and returning the cup. At least the hardtack is a bit more filling, unlike the corn bread he had to suffice with. However, he knows Niall had no control over that, much like he has little control over what Niall is given.

Hopefully they'll be able to get themselves out of this mess eventually.