Chapter Text
“…Do you think we’ll make it out of here?
Together,I mean.”
Nikolay began,tone wavering from it’s usual stern self and instead softening up ever so slightly.
“I won’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”
Henryk replied sternly,his voice not muffled anymore: his visor was finally up for once,and Nikolay couldn’t help but help himself and steal a few glances,before looking away.
The stones that laid compacted on the ground almost seemed to dig in the officer’s back,his arm shielding the back of his head from the same fate.
His hand reached out in the air: the situation almost reminded him of his old life,before the war.
Before everything.
The black sky was littered with gleaming stars,the sight shining in the brunette’s pupils.
It was beautiful,yes.
…yet it would have been even more beautiful if it was real.
And at that moment,Nikolay could feel a cold breeze brush past him; with just one blink everything was gone,and that memory had been replaced by the crude reality: everything above him was only stone.
𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺?
The officer slowly pushed himself up from his laying position,instead leaning his back on the lancer’s side with a soft huff.
He felt like they were being watched,yet he just couldn’t just pass over the opportunity: the both of them often ‘hanged out’ like this; late at night,in a dead-end corridor in the caves away from their respective bases to avoid getting spot.
It usually did work out,given they had no accidents -for now- yet the two couldn’t help but be on edge.
“I wish I’d met you sooner.”
Nikolay blurted out,the thought a pathetic attempt at keeping the conversation going -and to hear that voice again,when it’s not dulled by a helmet- yet it seemed to have worked,given that Henryk’s reply was solely:
“Wouldn’t that have hurt more?”
“Wouldn’t what have hurt more?”
The officer repeated in a question,head cocking over to the side to catch a glimpse of the other man’s face,to see if he could decipher what he was feeling.
Nothing.
“Being on opposite sides,the constant worry of not being sure if one of us will make it,not being able to have proper conversations…that.”
The lancer explained monotonously,not even daring to cross the officer’s stare.
“If we had met sooner,it would be a natural response to mourn over the nostalgic days.”
He added,his arms crossing over his chest as he looked to the open side of the corridor.
“…you’re making me soft.”
The blonde muttered after a couple of tense seconds: he had always been someone to be quiet and follow orders,yet with nikolay it was a game changer now.
“Is that a bad thing?”
Nikolay questioned again,gaze still taking in every ounce of the man’s face so he could remember it when it would have been hidden behind a barrier again.
“I’m not sure.
That’s the problem.”
“I think it’s important to be soft,even if just for a moment.”
The brunette noted,turning his head back to stare at nothing in particular.
…and in the tense silence,Nikolay swore he could have heard something moving: 𝘍𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴.
“Hey Henryk.”
The officer now sounded tenser than usual,stiffening up as he pushed himself up from his earlier relaxed position.
The lancer noticed the missing weight from his side,head turning around to face the man as he moved away,letting out a hum as a wordless sign to continue speaking.
“…what time is it?”
At that sentence,the lancer seemed to catch up with the other’s thoughts,the sound slowly registering in his mind as the silence proceeded.
They stared at each other for a second.
𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥.
The officer stood up in a hurry,grabbing the lancer’s hand tightly and pulling him along; Henryk pushed his visor down,hastily following along as a newfound surge of panic began to rise inside his chest.
For the first time in a while,he felt terrified.
The sound of their boots sharply slamming against the ground and their heavy breathing was the only thing audible at the moment: Nikolay was going in blind,following whatever he supposed would lead back to their bases; he was pretty sure the earlier sounds weren’t close anymore,yet that could also be because the only thing he could hear was his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Soon enough,a familiar warm light painted the rocky corridor,Nikolay’s eyes widening at the sight as he wasn’t able to stop himself in time,effectively bumping against someone: the impact made the two’s hands disconnect,the brunette’s hand still feeling Henryk’s palm on his own.
Yet there was nothing there.
“Kuznetsov!”
A familiar voice called out: the one he had bumped into was…two allies.
Shit,𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵,𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙏!
Nikolay scrambled to try and explain what was happening,yet the two new faces were already on the enemy,holding him back from the officer as he caught his breath.
He could hear Henryk cursing the two out in polish,a language they couldn’t understand -and didn’t know the brunette even knew.
Nikolay felt powerless.
He had two allies holding one of his secret acquaintances back,yelling at him to shoot.
𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘵?
All of this felt unreal; The officer was hoping all of this was a nightmare,a horrible nightmare,and that he just had to wake up and all of this will be gone and-
No,no he couldn’t..
Both choices were awful: either kill two of his comrades and treason his empire or kill one of his best friends.
This couldn’t be how the story ended.
Yet the pressure continued,until it forced him to crush under it: his hand shakily got his gun out as the two began working on the foe’s helmet,leaving that same face he had adored earlier exposed.
Yet for once he wasn’t glad of this happening.
Nikolay placed the barrel on Henryk’s forehead,already feeling his eyes getting watery and his breathing shake,along with his hand: he had never felt so guilty to shoot someone.
In the past years he had been getting used to the sound of someone’s brains splattering against the ground with nothing but a sense of accomplishment following after,given that his job had been done,but now he felt like all of the stoicism he had been slowly building for it come crashing down on him.
“I’m so sorry,Henryk.
I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you.”
Were the last words spoken between them.
And with the only smile he had ever seen in all the time of knowing him,Henryk accepted his fate.
And with that,a sharp sound tore through the corridor,blood pooling on the soles of Nikolay’s boots.
Was this what was considered honor?