So, it's taken a long time, and I'm sorry for that. Life's busy these days, but I really am trying. Reviews are awesome. Thanks for reading.
The German soldier sits down cautiously, watching Nick with wide eyes as he ties his hands. Smythe is on his way with Hummel, Jeffy's informed him, but until they get here all they can do is wait. Nick pulls the rope tight and steps back.
"Hello..." He says quietly.
"Hallo." The soldier says back after a pause.
"Are you alright?" Nick asks, glancing over the boy's stocky frame for any obvious wounds.
There's a gash on his forehead that looks painful and fresh, blood smeared on his skin, and Nick leans in to touch it but the German flinches back as much as he can.
"Fass mich nicht an!"
"Es tut mir leid..." Nick takes a step back, holding his hands up even though he knows the German can't do anything to him. "Aber deine Stirn sah verletzt aus und ich -"
"Nic'las!" Jeffy hisses, pulling him away. "Stop talking to that... filthy German." He wrinkles his nose, scowling at the boy with undisguised loathing.
"I was only asking if his forehead was alright..." Nick trails off as Jeffy glares at him.
"You shouldn't care!" Jeffy whispers angrily. "'e's a murderer. The Germans kill babies, Nic'las! They murder the innocent!"
Nick shakes his head and turns back to the German, clearing his throat.
"Sprichst du englisch?" Nick asks, ignoring Jeffy's frown.
"A little..." He says slowly, voice shaking slightly.
"What's your name?"
"I am not meant to tell you that..." The soldier says, eyes flicking between Nick and Jeffy.
Nick looks at him, only realising now how young he is. He can't be more than seventeen, maybe eighteen at a push. His uniform's as muddy as theirs are and Nick has no idea what could have happened to his weapon because he didn't have one when they found him. Nick glances at Jeffy, and at Felix, who's watching the scene silently from the corner. In another world, he might be friends with this German boy. It strikes him that this war seems to be consisted of little boys who run at each other with guns. And he's one of them.
"I'm Nicholas Duval." He tells the German boy, ignoring the exasperated noise Jeffy makes behind him.
The boy looks at him in surprise.
"Karofsky." He offers.
Nick smiles.
"Nice to meet you." Out of the corner of his eye, Nick sees Jeffy cross his arms across his chest. Felix is watching him warily. "Now, Karofsky, have you ever killed a baby?"
"What! No!" Karofsky looks horrified. "You do that! The British do that!"
"Take that back!" Jeffy yells, leaping to his feet.
He's gone bright red and he looks like he's about to lunge at Karofsky. Felix pulls him back, pushing him into a seat with more strength than he looks like he possess.
"It's lies! Propaganda spread by the government, Jeffy!"
"He's a MURDERER!" Jeffy yells.
"So're we!" Nick yells back.
"Attention!" Hummel shouts from the dugout door.
Nick, Jeffy, and Felix snap to attention, and even Karofsky gets to his feet slowly. Hummel stares at them all as he walks in. They stand in silence, Jeffy still red in the face, obviously restraining himself from saying anything more in front of their commanding officer.
"Anderson. Take the prisoner to the pick up point." Hummel says quietly, watching as Blaine hurries down into the dugout, his face set, and almost drags Karofsky out into the Trench.
Hummel steps down, standing in front of them, looking between them carefully.
"At ease."
They relax slightly, hands moving behind their backs as they step into position. Hummel stares at them again before turning and walking away without saying a word. Felix lets out a sigh of relief, dropping into a chair.
"Well... that went better than it could have..." Felix says quietly, "I thought he was going to court-martial you!"
Nick laughs nervously, glancing at Jeffy. Jeffy refuses to look back at him, storming out of the dugout, only stopping to pick up his pack and helmet before striding out into the mud. Nick blinks, leaning heavily on the table, staring down at his feet. Felix pats his thigh reassuringly.
"He'll calm down."
"No, he won't." Nick shakes his head. "I called him a murderer. I thought he was going to... punch me."
Felix smiles, squeezing Nick's thigh again.
"Nick, he'll calm down."
Nick doesn't say anything, listening to the ever present sounds of gunfire and staring down at his boots, looking over every scuff and scratch. His puttees are caked in mud, and his feet hurt a little, still sore from the soaking they'd gotten within the first few days here. He barely notices that Felix's hand is still on his thigh until he coughs suddenly and Felix pulls it away quickly.
"I should..." Felix trails off, getting to his feet and busying himself going through his pack.
He pulls out a few pieces of paper and sits back down at the table, not looking at Nick. Nick studies him for a second before turning away, pulling his letter from home from his inside pocket and opening it carefully. He reads it a few times, smiling to himself, laughing softly at jokes he's already memorised. He's about to find some paper and write his own letter, either to his mother or to Kate, but Felix stops him.
"Go and talk to Jeffy."
Nick sighs, standing up and going up the step out into the Trench. Jeffy's leaning against the wall smoking, the cigarette in his hand sending up a jagged plume of smoke. Jeffy takes a long drag as Nick approaches, then blows the smoke into his face. A few feet away the machine gun rattles, people shouting in other trenches. Neither of them says anything. Jeffy taps his cigarette, the ash falling down onto Nick's shoe.
"Jeffy, I -"
"Button it."
Nick blinks, taken aback. Jeffy watches him, pulling on his cigarette again before licking his fingers and pinching it out, tucking the stub back in this pocket. He holds out his hand.
"'oo wants to fight when there's a war on?"
Nick smiles, shaking Jeffy's hand. He's about to apologise when Blaine runs up to them, grinning breathlessly, Hummel a few steps behind, straightening his cap.
"We're going over the top!"