Day 2 Challenge: Cuddling Somewhere

Title: "Minefield"

A/N: Italics are German

Enjoy

The small camp was busy. A battle had been won and not very many men had been lost. The camp was alive with chatter that signified a celebration. They indulged on the little rations they could spare. Gilbert was happy, laughing and joking with his friends and fellow soldiers, allowing his ragged hair to show proudly, which he could rarely do in the middle of battle. Gilbert stretched happily, basking in the quickly falling sun.

"You're turn to watch the prisoner," another soldier laughed, walking up to Gilbert. Immediately, his good mood came down as he groaned, tilting his head back to exaggerate the gesture.

"Why me?" Gilbert grumbled. "I was just about to go harass my brother."

"Weird that the commanding officer decided to give you the whole night to look after him after you nearly broke his gun pulling a prank," the soldier smirked, patting Gilbert's back. "Have fun."

"Whatever," Gilbert sighed, knowing full well that he didn't exactly have a lot of room to complain. After all, it was only because of his brother that he hadn't been…shipped off… He quickly got up, said goodbye to his friends, and stalked off to where they were keeping the prisoner.

They managed to keep one prisoner from the Americans during the fight. That was all they really needed, so the rest were killed. They interrogated him, since he was fairly high ranking, and he talked. They were keeping him alive for that night as a reward. Gilbert had never really seen him, just a glance here and there as he walked around the camp, and the American seemed perfectly miserable. Now it had to be Gilbert's problem. The soldier watching Matthew was poised with a pistol and Gilbert rolled his eyes before flashing him his own pistol. The soldier left and Gilbert glanced down at the prisoner in front of him. They were in front of a tent and the American was handcuffed to one of the polls used to keep it up. He was scraped up pretty bad, along with many, many bruises and quite a number of missing finger nails. Gilbert didn't even flinch at it.

"I'm not American," the prisoner mumbled in English and Gilbert blinked at him. The prisoner…talked. His voice was gravelly and it obviously pained him, but he was talking. Gilbert chose not to say anything, simply glancing at the top of the prisoner's head. He noticed that he could see the scalp where some of the hair was missing. "I've been trying to…to tell them…No one here speaks English. You probably don't speak English."

"You sure are talking a lot for someone who was just tortured," Gilbert sighed. He'd been practicing English for a while and thought he was pretty damn awesome at it, so he figured he'd give it a spin on someone who spoke English natively.

The prisoner looked up at him blearily, indigo eyes shimmering slightly with tears and his lips cracked and dry. He looked definitely confused, shadows outlining his tired eyes as the sun finally fell under the horizon.

"I thought you weren't supposed to…talk…to me," the prisoner mumbled.

"If you're not American, what are you?" Gilbert asked. "Canadian?"

"Yeah," the prisoner nodded slowly, wincing. "You look…different…"

"I know," Gilbert muttered. Under a normal situation, he would flaunt about how awesome his looks were. Then again, this wasn't exactly a normal situation. "You're going to die tomorrow. Figured since no one else spoke English to you, you should know."

"Where did you learn English?" the prisoner asked.

"Been learning for years," Gilbert muttered. "Don't get to practice a lot."

"I'm glad I got to say goodbye to Alfred," the prisoner sighed to himself.

"Don't get nostalgic," Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"Why are you watching me?" the prisoner asked. "Why are you waiting to kill me? Just…shoot me now so you can get back to talking to your friends about how you'll follow Hitler to your deaths."

"Sue me for following a strong leader," Gilbert scoffed.

"Why didn't you kill me?" the prisoner muttered. "The information wasn't that important…If you just don't want to watch me die, send me to a camp."

"You sound like an American," Gilbert stated. "Shut the hell up. I can't wait to see you die tomorrow."

The prisoner sighed and nodded before looking back down at the ground. They lapsed into a silence for a while. The camp fell into a quiet as soldiers went to sleep in their respective tents. There were the people staying up to watch out for surprise attacks, naturally, and everyone slept next to their best gun, but they were still happy and content with the fact that they had won. Gilbert eventually sat down on the ground, tired of standing, and stared up at the semi-clear sky. He still hadn't pulled out his pistol.

"I'm sorry," the prisoner mumbled and Gilbert blinked. He certainly wasn't expecting that from the person who had just been tortured and forced to spill information and told he would die the next day. "I should have…"

"I don't care," Gilbert scoffed.

"Of course you don't," the prisoner sighed. "What's your name?" A sudden question. Gilbert stared at the prisoner in wonder, thinking about just how much guts this kid had to have. He was in the camp of the enemy, thoroughly tortured to the point where it didn't even look like he could walk properly, and he would be dead in a few hours. Yet, he was asking for Gilbert's name. He was wasting his energy to have small talk.

"Beilschmidt," Gilbert said.

"Williams."

"Why are you talking?" Gilbert asked. "Why are you…wasting energy?"

"What is there to waste if I'm dying in a few hours anyway?" Williams asked. "There's no way for me to escape, anyway. There's no silver lining and no hero to help me." He laughed dryly. "Alfred was a liar when he said he'd be my hero if I needed him."

"What's your religion?" Gilbert asked. He didn't know why he was getting so involved with the prisoner. He guessed he figured he wanted to know to see if the guy had a right idea in mind, if he was actually going to the right place.

"I had one," Williams muttered. "Then I got here."

"Torture makes you forget God?" Gilbert snorted.

Williams shook his head. "War does. I came with the Canadian troops to back up the Americans. I shot down several human beings and saw hundreds…thousands die around me. There's no God if He allows that to happen."

"Maybe He just needs it to happen for a better design," Gilbert offered half-heartedly.

"You don't even believe that…" Williams chuckled humorlessly. He coughed and it made a horrid sound. Gilbert winced as Williams continued to cough, spitting blood on the dirt in front of him.

Gilbert sighed and turned to face the prisoner. Williams blinked up at him blearily. It was obvious that he needed glasses by the way his eyes were looking at him. There was a horrible gash on his eyebrow Gilbert hadn't noticed before and could barely see in the dark. He had no idea why he was doing this. To make the prisoner feel better? To make himself feel better? Maybe he was just crazy…

"To be honest, I was almost shipped off to one of those camps," Gilbert said. "I'm not exactly a desirable with the way I look and the fact that my eyes are going. But mein bruder made me a desirable by getting me into the military."

"Why tell me this?" Williams asked carefully.

"I don't have a clue," Gilbert admitted. Suddenly, tears pooled around William's eyes and he let out a sob, staring at his own blood on the ground in front of him.

"I'm going to die…" Williams muttered and Gilbert sighed. He really wished he didn't get this job. Gilbert bit his lip and glanced around the camp. No one was up and around and, in any case, it would be hard for them to see this. Williams shuddered as he let out another sob and Gilbert shook his head.

Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the prisoner. He carefully rested his chin on top of Williams' head and stayed there. Williams seemed surprised at first, but seemed to cling to the connection and sobbed even more. He struggled to move his arms, which were useless to him. He winced a few times, complaining about his ribs. He coughed blood onto Gilbert's shirt. But other than that, they were quiet, merely enjoying each other's presence. Williams needed someone and his torture was over. Gilbert wasn't about to just continue it. He deserved a moment of happiness before he died. If Williams was right, then this world was the end. Best be happy in the moments before his death, then.

"You're not undesirable," Williams muttered. "At least by my standards."

"Thanks," Gilbert sighed, pulling him a little closer. There wasn't much talking aside from that. After about an hour, Williams relaxed even more into him, apparently falling asleep in his arms. Gilbert simply continued to hold him, forcing himself to stay awake. It wouldn't be good at all if he was found cuddling in his sleep with this prisoner when they came to kill him. Williams moved a little in his sleep, obviously uncomfortable with a few broken bones and still bleeding. He muttered something in his sleep, but Gilbert couldn't understand because it was French.

The sun began to rise and Gilbert nearly tried to will it back down. He didn't want to disrupt this man's sleep. At least in his sleep, Williams didn't look like he was in pain or terrified. But it would have to end all too soon. Gilbert took a few deep breaths to steel himself for what he knew would only be a matter of time. Just a few hours ago, he would have been perfectly fine with letting Williams die. Without a second thought, he'd send him to his death. And after just some small talk, he'd grown attached. How weak was he?

Gilbert heard the voices coming towards them immediately and swiftly stood, abandoning Williams. The prisoner nearly toppled over, evidently used to resting his weight on Gilbert. Williams looked up towards Gilbert and his eyes widened in terror. Gilbert said nothing and turned to looking straight ahead.

"No problems, I trust?" the commander asked and Gilbert nodded obediently, refusing to allow himself to look at the tortured man next to him. "Good. Get some rest before we leave."

Gilbert nodded again and slowly walked away.

"No!" Williams screamed behind him. "Please! Don't!" Gilbert allowed himself to glance back. Williams was fighting as strong as he could against the strong military men with the commander that were holding him easily. He was free from the tent, and was forced to stand, which his body obviously couldn't handle very well. Their eyes met for a second, Williams pleading silently with him and Gilbert simply looked forward again. He couldn't get attached, that much he knew when he'd touched the prisoner and even beforehand.

"See ya in Hell," Gilbert mumbled under his breath as he continued on. The camp could hear the tortured man's screams, something they hadn't missed since he was actually tortured. The gunshot made Gilbert jump and he let out a shuddered breath, stopping dead in his tracks. He couldn't hear the screams anymore. He bit back tears that threatened to come to his eyes and balled his hands into fists so tight that it hurt.

"Gilbert," Ludwig, Gilbert's brother, found him through the slowly growing crowd of people. Gilbert figured he'd be worried about him since he had to be up all night, watching the prisoner…who didn't exactly need to be watched anymore. Ludwig got one look at Gilbert, however, and his train of thought changed. "Are you alright? You look almost dead."

"I'm fine," Gilbert lied simply, placing a hand on his slightly bigger brother's shoulder. "Let's go win this war, eh?" Ludwig gave him an odd look as Gilbert staggered to his own tent. If he could get one hour's rest before they started moving, that would be best. Little did Gilbert know, his nightmares were filled with Williams' face and the sound of his voice.

Or were they dreams?

Welcome to our first sad ending of this challenge. And you thought cuddling would lead to a happy ending… Anyway, I've realized that I'm extremely prone to happy endings, which isn't exactly bad, but still, I need to exercise my sad endings a little bit, give them some space to roam around a bit. In any case, down to historical accuracy, I didn't try extremely hard here since I didn't think it was extremely important. I'm sure there were battles that the Germans won in World War II and they took prisoners and if they really didn't need them, I'm guessing they were just gotten rid of. Not all of them needed to go to the camps, I'm sure.

Anywho, please review.

I will see you tomorrow with the third challenge, Playing Video Games/Watching A Movie Together. Titled "Reality."