c. April 1945
Her hand stilled on the kitten's head, and the little girl's head jerked up. "...Vater?" There was no answer, and she stood and stumbled toward the footsteps. The impossibly still kitten was clutched with one hand to her chest, and she kept the other held out in front of her as she carefully felt her way over the debris-filled path. "Vater?"
The young man stopped, finally registering the voice. Realising that it could not possible be addressed to him, He shifted his pack back up on his shoulder, and began to walk on.
He foot caught in a hole, and she fell with a startled gasp. She tried to stand again, but couldn't; and she started crying, clutching the kitten to herself.
"Hush, child – the world is hardly-" He suddenly cut his own words off, closing his eyes for a moment as he stopped. "Or perhaps it already has ended, Ja?" He switched to the language she had been speaking.
She looked up at the sound of her own language. "Ja, Papa?"
He shook his head, dropping his pack down on the ground and stepping over to her. "You should look where you are going." He carefully pulled her foot from the hole, feeling it.
"Nein – I am blind."
He frowned slightly, looking up to her eyes. She faced him, but her blue eyes neither looked at nor tracked him. "My apologies, fraulein."
She was still clutching the kitten, and carefully pet it.
"You have only sprained it – your ankle will mend soon. May I?"
She frowned in confusion.
"May I look at your kitten? It seems to be unwell."
"Ja, it is dead." She loosened her hold, and offered it to him.
He blinked at her matter-of-fact statement and automatically accepted the creature.. "...Dead?"
"Ja, last night." She shrugged, pulling her knees close to her chest. "But I was alone."
He carefully wrapped the kitten in a handkerchief, lying it on the ground beside him and turning his attention back to the little girl. "And your father or mother?"
"Papa went away several nights ago, and Mama has been dead since I was born."
He frowned slightly. "Then you are alone, fraulein?"
"Ja." She hesitated, and pulled her legs closer. "Please, have you seen my Papa? He said that he would be back soon – but it has been several nights and he has not come back."
"Did he take anything with him?"
She nodded. "He packed some clothes."
He grit his teeth together for a moment. "I fear that your father is dead, kleine."
"Oh." She sighed, and nodded slowly. "Everyone is dead."
"All?"
"Ja. He left to die."
"I do not doubt that." He paused a moment, frowning slightly in thought. Abruptly he stood up, pulling the girl to her feet as well. "What is your name, kleine?"
"My name is Marta."
"What is your surname?" She didn't understand, and he amended his question. "What is your complete name?"
She brightened in understanding. "Marta Adelheid Richter."
"How old are you?"
"I am five." She frowned in confusion. "Why do you need to know?"
He hesitated a moment more. "Marta... You cannot stay here."
"Why?"
"As you have said, all have gone away – you are alone. You will die as well if left here."
"But then I will meet my mama and papa again."
He shook his head sharply, taking hold of her shoulders. "No, you won't. It will be dark and frightening and you will be more alone there than you ever were here. Dying is not something you must long for, kleine."
"...have you died?"
"Ja. But you must not – do you understand?"
"But I am alone. I must stay here."
"Not if you come with me."
"...with you?"
"Ja."
She thought about it, tilting her head to the side. "Will you be my new papa? Like Herr Frei did for Josef?"
He smiled slightly at the example. "Ja, like them."
"...would there be a new Mama too?"
He shook his head, even though she couldn't see him. "Nein – only myself."
"...you would protect me?"
"As you would your kitten."
"It died."
"You won't."
She thought about it for a little longer, and then slowly nodded her head.
"Danke. Where do you live, kleine?"
"In a room." She turned back and pointed toward an apartment building that was behind them. "In there. My name is on the door."
He nodded, bending and quickly swinging her up into his arms. She stiffened, but the held tightly to his uniform as he crossed the ruined ground to the house and entered. "Why did you not remain within?"
She was running her hand along the wall as he passed through the corridor. Her fingers snagged on the corner of one door, and she would not let go. "Here it is."
He stopped and tried to open the door, setting her down when he discovered it was locked.
"The door locked, and I did not have a key."
He nodded, reaching up to feel the top of the door frame. An extra key fell down, and she quickly picked it up from the ground and handed it to him. "Danke."
She followed him into the rooms, slipping past him when he turned to shut the door. She was more relaxed now, in an environment she knew well. "Please, why did you want to come here?"
"An Allied soldier would hardly be the father of a German girl, would he?" He looked around the simple room, and then went through the one doorway to find the sleeping quarters. There was little clothes left, but there were a few discarded pieces lying in a half-open drawer. He pulled them out and held them up, grateful that her father had been near his size.
"...may I see you?"
He frowned slightly, turning to face her. "You are blind, child – how do you propose to do that?"
She held up her hands. "May I feel your face?"
He tilted his head to the side; and then knelt down to her level, carefully guiding her hands to his face and closing his eyes.
She was careful and gentle; and when she had finished, she wrapped her arms tightly around him in a hug. "Danke schonn, Vater."
He stilled for a second, and then cautiously returned the embrace. "Bitte schonn, leibchen."
AN: The reason he didn't go to Berlin. Marta is the German parallel to Maria - the showing that not ALL Germans were bad. Ignoring, of course, that Maria was a German citizen but... 12-24-2015