Nikolai patiently waited for Werner to get out of the shower. He waited outside of the washing rooms, leaned against the brick wall, smoking. He was hoping not to run into anyone, he wasn't in the mood for talking which was saying a lot for Nikolai. He'd had a terrible day, one that even his positivity and natural merriness couldn't save. Maybe it was because of the phone call he'd made this morning; his family had decided to stay in Essen. He'd tried to covince his wife to take the children to Konstanz where his parents lived in the countryside. He was afraid that Essen might become a military target; it was an industrial city. He didn't want to have to worry about his family. But maybe it wasn't even the phone call that was affecting his mood, maybe it was the rest of his day. He'd gotten into an arguement with another SS-Officer about the correct way to lead a group of workers. Or maybe it was just the cold and raininess of the day.
Werner popped around the corner, hair still wet from the lukewarm shower he'd taken. He felt refreshed but still tired. Nikolai smiled a little when his friend greet him. "Was your day as mediocre as mine or is there something interresting you can tell me about?"
"I shouted at Dr. Ziegler." Werner admitted. Nikolai laughed; his mood rose by three-hundred-procent. The thought of his young friend shouting at the nazi doctor amused him. Werner had seemed like more of a sad and shy man, not the type to flip out.
"What made you yell at him?" Nikolai asked; the smile still present in his voice.
"He's working on a vaccine for smallpox. He vaccinates some of the prisoners and later they get exposed to the virus. If they get infected nobody tries to help them...the doctors just let them die." The anger returned in Werners voice. When he'd been diagnosed with brain cancer he'd been scared that the doctors would stop helping him, almost every morning he feared that they would come in saying that they couldn't do anything else or that it would be too expensive for his family...he hated to think of the people who told they were being vaccinated only to be used as experiments and left to die. "And then they repeat all of that with a new and improved version of the vax."
"I have to apologize for signing you up for being Dr. Zieglers assistant, I feel very bad about that. If you want me to ask the Lagerführer to change your position back I will." Nikolai was sincerely sorry. Since Werner had first told him about what the Auschwitz doctors did he'd felt terrible about having reallocated his friend, even though he'd meant to do good.
"No, it's alright. It's worth it because of Wojciechowski." Werner reassured him.
"Because of Wojciechowski." Nikolai repeated quietly. "You're a saint, Werner."
Nikolai handed a cigarette to Werner, lit it, and took one for himself. "Where do you get the cigarettes from?" Werner asked him.
"Sometimes my family send them to me, and sometimes I buy them. The ones from home are better, the ones you can get here taste too bitter."
"To me all of them taste the same." Werner admitted.
"That's because you're new too smoking, my friend. Had you been smoking longer you'd know what I meant."
"Probably." Werner admitted. He took a drag of the cigarette. He still needed to cough everytime he inhaled the smoke, but he liked it. The taste wasn't too bad and it overpowered the taste of Auschwitz.
He was genuinly surprised to find himself smoking. He'd sworn to himself that he'd never smoke the day he got diagnosed with cancer. Why would he support something that made more people suffer under a terminal illness just like he did? But in Auschwitz it was different. Auschwitz was simply too terrible to be real. And he was sure he would die before lung cancer could find him. 1945 was only three and a half years away. And when the soviets would come to free the KZ he'd probably be shot. Or worse, sent to Gulag. Werner glanced over at Nikolai who was peacefully smoking his cigarette. He had a pleasant look on his face, and when he caught Werner looking he winked. Should I tell Nikolai that we're doomed? He decided not to, not yet. He was sure that Nikolai knew he might die, anyway. It was war, everyone knew that. And if Nikolai helped him bust Wojciechowski out of the KZ then he'd escape as well, wouldn't he? So it didn't make sense to tell Nikolai yet, it might just make him think that Werner was crazy.
That night the smoke curled out of their cigarettes, grey against the black sky. The next morning smoke curled out of the chimneys of Auschwitz, black against the grey sky. It was the first time that Werner tasted the smell of burning bodies.