A/N: Yes, this is an AU set in Germany. Don't kill me if it's not all factual, a lot of information is taken from a book called the Book Thief. But some quick reminders for readers: This takes place when Jews would be sent to concentration camps, along with homosexuals. So that means Kurt's still in trouble, even if he wasn't hiding Jews. Hitler Youth is made up of young men devoted to the Nazi ideal.
Kurt was staring up at the grey March sky from his bedroom window when they came. Two of them, hidden, ushered in by Kurt's father. Wind blew past them, leaves fluttering everywhere. After they shut the door behind them, and Kurt came into the living room, they uncovered themselves.
"Rachel Berry," the female announced, offering a hand to a bewildered Kurt. He hesitantly shook it. The other one was male, with a shaved head and angry glint in his eyes.
"Noah Puckerman," he said, but not extending to shake.
"Papa," Kurt said, not acknowledging the two other teenagers in his living room, to his father. "Who are they?"
Burt's eyes darted back and forth, and leaned in. "Kurt, they're Jews."
Jews.
Kurt quivered, looking at the two teenagers. They didn't seem like the dirty swindlers his teachers described, not that he listened to them. Rachel looked very clean, her teeth were white and perfect. Noah, well, he didn't seem as greedy as the Jews in the Nazi approved stories he read.
Still.
"What are they doing here?" Kurt whispered.
"They're hiding," Burt said, and that's all he said of the matter. Kurt understood.
The Hummel family was now hiding a Jew. His father must know what that means.
The punishment of hiding someone of Jewish blood is death.
"Well, I'm from Poland, but my dads moved here for business a few years ago," Rachel began, but her eyes welled up with tears, and she choked up a little. "I apologize, it's just, they were taken." she grasped her chest, like it was literally hurting. "Being both homosexual and Jewish, well, I don't see how they're still living."
"They could have been just put to work," Kurt offered, unsure how to cheer her up.
"Only at certain camps," Noah said, his first sentence since his initial greeting. "She's right, they're dead."
This only increased her sobbing.
"Please, have some sympathy!" Kurt said, horrified.
They were in the basement, a small card table set up. Burt's wife Carol had brought down some tea for them. Burt was calling some people upstairs. Which left Kurt with the Jews. Noah had only taken a sip of the tea, which he immediately spit back in the cup when Carol left. Noah was intimidating, with bulging muscles under his white cotton shirt, and permanent scowl written on his face. Rachel, however, switched from distraught to charming at any moment, then turned right back. His step-brother Finn hadn't come back from soccer yet, so it was just him here.
"Sympathy? Is a fancy word for bullshit. I don't want to lie to myself anymore. My mom's dead, because she refused to leave without my sister. Those with young children don't last long, if you know what I mean."
Kurt gulped. Yes, he knows what Noah means.
Rachel wiped her eyes again. "No more talk of this. Let's focus on the positive. Noah and I found each-other, and your father and mother found us. We're safe in here."
There was always the unspoken sentence that hung in the air.
They're safe in here. If the Nazis don't find them.
Finn Hudson was walking home, soccer ball tucked under his arm. His pulled out some coins out of his pocket, pausing in front of the sweets store that Frau Fuches owned. He licked his lips, and figured he could treat his family to some candy. Kurt had seemed depressed lately; it could cheer him up. He opened the door, bell tingling. Frau Fuches glanced up, frowning.
"Heil Hitler," she said.
"Heil Hitler," he replied. She would kick you out if you didn't respond with a 'heil' as soon as you entered her shoppe. Her husband recently died in the war, and she hung several Nazi flags in her windows.
Finn quickly paid for chocolates, holding the bag right with his soccer ball. He made his way back to the Hudson-Hummel household, grinning widely.
"Mama? Burt?" he called, entering the house. Burt jumped at the noise, having been quietly conversing with his mom.
"Shut the door, Finn," Mama said. Finn closed the door, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"What's going on?"
Kurt came up from the basement, nodding at Finn in a greeting. "Come on," he said. Finn set down his soccer ball, still cradling the bag of sweets.
Two teenagers were sipping tea in the basement, and their eyes widened at the appearance of Finn. Finn dropped the treats, forgotten.
"Who are they?" Finn stage whispered.
"We're Jews," the male said. "Who the fuck are you?"
Finn twitched. Deep down inside, he was innocent. He helped his mother with the dishes and picked the weeds out front when springtime came. But years under the Führer's influence had taught him not to trust the Jewish. Not to mix with them, not to speak with them, and certainly not to hide them. But these people didn't seem like Jews. The girl, she seemed nice, and soft. She was even pretty. She did have a Jewish nose, though.
"Hello, Finn," The girl said, smiling at him. "Your brother told me you would be coming." She stood up and slowly approached him. "There's no need to be afraid. We won't hurt you."
"Hurt you? What are we, beasts?" the man asked. Finn nodded. He's not afraid of the Jews. Just very, very confused. "If he doesn't like us, then we'll leave, because he'll report us."
Report them?
"He wouldn't report you guys," Kurt said, placing a hand on Finn's shoulder. "Because if he did, then we would all pay for it."
Finn blinked.
Then, it all clicked. He was now associated with them. His life depends on a lie, now.
"Oh, are those chocolates?" the girl asked, bending over and taking the bag in her slim fingers.
"Yeah. I got it to cheer everyone up, but I don't think that'll help now," Finn said, glad the conversation had taken a lighter turn.
"Can I have one?" she looked up at him in anticipation. Her eyes were just as brown as the chocolates, maybe even sweeter.
"Sure," Finn said, brightening. She grabbed a piece, tucking them in between her lips and grinning in delight.
"These are delicious!" she exclaimed. She offered some to Kurt, who shook his head.
"They'll go straight to my thighs," Kurt said. He sighed. "I'm going to go help Carol with dinner. Finn, socialize with Rachel and Noah for a bit."
Finn nodded. Rachel. What a pretty name.
Kurt tied on an apron, walking into the kitchen. Carol already had the meat ground for the sausage, stirring it with a wooden spoon, a frustrated look plastered on her face.
"Here, let me take that. You can clear and clean the table," Kurt said, taking the bowl from her calloused hands. She sighed with gratitude.
"Thank you, Kurt." She started to clean down the table, while Kurt got to work mashing up the fat. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as he worked, but ignored it. Carol straightened out the Nazi flag in the window, face blank. Kurt gulped, wiping the sweat away. "So...are you uncomfortable about this?" Carol asked softly. She wouldn't dare say 'hiding the Jews', she's too cautious, but she needn't have to.
"Yes," Kurt said, mashing the fat and meat into long thick chunks.
"They aren't bad kids," Carol said matter-of-factly.
"I know," he noted. Carol reached above him, getting the plates out of the cupboards. She quirked an eyebrow at him, indicating for a more thorough explanation. "I don't like the idea of breaking the laws for complete strangers."
"Oh, they aren't complete strangers. Noah is my godson," she said, ever so casually.
Kurt froze, sausages hanging limply in his hands. "What?"
"David Puckerman was my husband's, the one before Burt, best friend when they were in the war. Once they had Noah, Mr. Puckerman granted us as godparents. Noah got in contact with us when it all happened. Rachel was with him. He said that either Rachel came as well, or he would find someone else. Of course we took the girl in. She's a brave girl, but looked scared stiff."
"Hey, are you guys hungry? Because we have some soup-" Kurt said, entering the basement. Noah shushed him, jerking his head over to Rachel. She was asleep on the mattress they had left over, when Burt had put it in the closet after they got the double bed. Kurt nodded, setting the huge bowl of soup, the two smaller ones, and the ladle down on the floor.
"Thanks," Noah mumbled.
"You're welcome, Noah," Kurt said.
"Don't call me that."
"Then what do I call you? Jew?" It was a joke, but the glare he received told Kurt that Noah didn't take it that way.
"Just Puck."
Okay. That was an awkward conversation. Puck just poured soup into the bowl, slurping it down. Kurt had offered a spoon, but Puck turned it down. "I'm sorry about what happened to you."
"Why are you sorry? You didn't do it."
"I know, but-"
"Your sorry doesn't make up for the fact that my sister is dead, my mama is dead, and my papa isn't dead."
"My mama is dead too, if that's any comfort," Kurt spat. "I've suffered too."
Again, Puck shushed him. "Don't wake her up, she'll just start talking again. She never stops."
"If you dislike her so much, then why did you stick with her?"
Puck shrugged. "She's been kind to me. She was with me when it happened. I don't know, it just ended up that way."
Kurt knew he wasn't getting the whole truth, but he disregarded it.
"Goodnight, Puck," he said. "Would you like some blankets?"
Puck shook his head. "Won't be sleeping tonight."
"Why not?"
"Too many nightmares."
Kurt huffed, turning around in his bed. Finn snored lightly in the bed opposite him, and it bugged him to no end. Finn used to be uncomfortable sharing a room with another unrelated man, but quickly got over it after the initial awkward phase. Kurt couldn't sleep tonight, not with all of the thoughts ricocheting through his head.
The moonlight told him it was time. He unearthed himself from the covers, revealing his was still fully dressed in his best clothes. He examined his shoes quickly, making sure they looked nice.
Not like you'll meet anyone tonight, Kurt thought to himself, sighing. He dismissed the gloomy thought, clicking open the window and raising it up. He brought up a leg to hurl himself out, when a voice interrupted him.
"You're going to that club again?" Finn asked, voice laced with sleep.
"Why do you care?" Kurt replied briskly, cold March air biting at his cheek.
"Uh, because it's illegal? And you're my brother? And I don't want you to go to jail?"
"Stop worrying about me. I'm older than you, if you haven't forgotten."
"Yeah, you've only reminded me about a billion times." Finn rubbed his head, yawning. "I'm coming with you."
"You hate that place," he remarked, watching as Finn dress into a shirt and pants. He covered his eyes when the pajama pants came on, respectively. No one wants to see that.
"It's alright. At least I get to see Artie," he said, and then they're both out the window.
They land on the hard dirt below. Kurt quickly brushes himself off. They start off down the road. Finn kept breathing out, exclaiming that he could see it.
"So, Rachel's pretty..." Kurt started, awkwardly rubbing his neck.
"Yeah, she is," Finn said, then squeezed his eyes. "I meant, no. She's not."
"It's okay, Finn. You don't have to be the Nazi's parrot anymore around me, I'm not going to rat you out."
"I know, it's just." He sighed. "I trust you. No more secrets, okay?"
"Right."
They passed by a wall cluttered with Nazi supporter signs. Propaganda on display for all to see. Report Jews. Obey Nazis. Homosexuality is wrong.
That last one hurts.
"Hey! What are you guys doing?" A voice asked, heavy boots stomping up to them. They both flinch, expecting the worst.
It was the worst.
"Oh, hello, Blaine," Finn said, the acid in his voice not lost. Blaine Anderson nodded, hands crossed behind his back, Nazi symbol bright in the night. The head boy of Nazi Youth, a suck up in every way. Kurt hated him in every way, Blaine was the definition of an asshole.
"What are you guys doing out at this hour?" he asked.
"We could ask you the same thing, Mr. Perfect," Kurt spat.
Blaine looked genuinely hurt. "You know, you two wouldn't hate me so much if you joined our group."
"What, the Trällerns?* We wouldn't join them if you shoved a-" Finn started, but Kurt elbowed him hard in the gut, cutting him off.
"He meant, we would love to join, but we can't. No time." Kurt chuckled nervously. Blaine's eyes darkened, mouth tightening into a frown.
"There's always time for the Führer," Blaine said, hands tightening into fists. But then, he took a deep breath and relaxed, fists uncurling and a smile appeared on his face. "I'm sorry. Kurt, Finn. Have a nice evening."
Then he sauntered off. Kurt bit his lip, emmiting a growl. In his frustration, he tore off the 'Homosexuality Is Wrong' poster and crumpled it, throwing it to the ground.
"What a prick," Finn said, crossing his arms.
Kurt sighed again, walking along. "Come on, everyone's probably waiting for us."
A/N2: Usually with AU I stick with canon couples, but if you have any opinions regarding Rachel's love, throw 'em at me! I really don't care. And I trust my readers well enough to know that I am not in any way prejudiced against anyone, and that these don't necessarily reflect the opinions of the author. I HAVE LAWYERS. Maybe.
*Warblers in German, I think.