Chapter Text
6 days before.
He wakes up at dawn. He dresses quickly, in the dark, his siblings still asleep as he heads downstairs.
His father is practicing walking with his wooden leg again. His mother, the saint she always is, has filled up his thermos with hot water and is making him a small bowl of oatmeal.
He grabs his backpack from the base of his father's chair, who, despite not working in the fields for six years, still puts the backpack next to him.
It's something that pisses him off to no end, but he holds his tongue in front of his mother. She does not deserve to be exposed to his rage at his father, for clinging to a nightmare he woke up from.
He slides on his boots as he eats, tying them with one hand expertly.
His mother wraps warm bread and boiled potatoes in a large piece of cloth, knotting it up and placing it next to his mittens.
He pulls on his coat, packs up his backpack, kisses his mother goodbye on the cheek, and simply nods to his father as he leaves.
Niall Comas steps out into the sharp morning air at 4:25 and smiles.
Another day in the fields, better than in the dirt.