ANON. || l.s.

Hum the song the soldiers sing

Realization grew on me
As quickly as it takes your hand
To warm the cold side of the pillow
I'm there for you, be there for me
I'll hum the song the soldiers sing
As they march outside our window

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Harry's POV

My leg was aching, and my mind was blurry from everything that had happened. Behind the glass was the man that had injured me. He was grumbling, pacing up and down the small space, shouting at me at the top of his lungs. Simon always had a way with his words. He always seemed like a put-together man, but I knew better. If something ticked him off, you'd hear it. And I also knew, that if he set his mind to something, he wasn't gonna let it go. 

I lightly skimmed the now wrapped up wound through the fabric, where the bullet had grazed my thigh. It hurt like hell, but it was worth it, saving Lou from the bullet. I should buy that Juls guy a fine bottle of whiskey when I was done. Because of him, the bullet flew against my thigh, and not straight into my head.
What Simon had done, was an unforgivable act. Something we wouldn't take lightly, and he knew this. He had fucked up, and had let his ego speak for him. 

When I first met this man, I already had my doubts. It was because of the kid, Mace, that we accepted him, otherwise we would've send him away. That this man had been made head of security still baffled me. Right of the bet, he seemed too eager, too set on retaliation. I probably would be too if my daughter had been murdered, but over time he became blind though. Blind to the rules, and blind to the code we had among us. We did what was necessary, no more, no less. And he seemed to have forgotten that. Louis had nothing to do with his vendetta, and as much as I liked to shoot his Father through the skull, we needed him to know who we were dealing with. It would be stupid to take out the one man who could tell us more about the distribution. 

I huffed, thinking about the word "distribution" and the irony of it, completely ignoring Simon who was now giving me the bird and pounding on the glass. I wasn't  faced though, and studied him calmly. He was becoming chubby. I told him to stop with all the pies if he wanted to keep his figure but he kept telling me that he needed the sugar to stay focused. Whatever keeps you happy I guess.  

Done with his antics, I dryly waved at him, resulting in another tantrum on his part, and took a turn to walk to the other cell. We would deal with him after we discussed it in our weekly meeting. If it were up to me alone, I wouldn't care less if he rotted away in here. I had a feeling I wouldn't be the only one supporting that motion. I for sure knew Niall would have my back on that one. He never gelled well with the man.

The next cell ( I hated the word "cell" but everybody kept calling them that, so I guess it stuck) contained a much less vocal person. She was resting on the bed, mumbling into the distance, still dazed from the sedative we gave her. I had cleaned her up as much as I could when she was unconscious, but there were still spots of blood that covered her neck. Louis would probably wake up soon too. 
She was clever to claw the chip out of her arm, even though the whole thing was horrifying to think of. The dedication to bite that thing out must've been prominent. God, imagine the pain.

I secretly hoped she would soon understand why everything we did was so necessary. I always noticed her paranoid tendencies, but I never knew she was that frightened, to literally bite a chuck out of her arm. It was about time to fill the newbies in about what we did here. Even the most hard-headed ones caved after knowing the truth. Except for Layla ofcourse. She had been a beautiful butterfly, not made for this cruel world.