The sleeping and the dead are but as pictures. 'Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil.

Dark, dark, it was so damned dark. Arthur staggered through the field, his gun still in one hand as his other held the bleeding wound in his side. He tripped over another soldier's body, closing his eyes as he lay on the ground to avoid looking at them and seeing blood, all that blood.

After some time, how long?, Arthur opened his eyes again. The first thing he saw was an American soldier's once-bright blue eyes dulled by death staring straight into his. He clenched his eyes shut again, feeling his lips start to tremble as that first betraying tear slid down his cheek.

He didn't hear the squelch of boots in the mud, but he heard the cock of a gun. Arthur raised his head then opened his eyes, making sure he wouldn't see that American again. A German soldier stood in front of him, equally bloody and muddy, the hand he could see missing at least two fingers. Arthur stood up as fast as he could, still painfully slowly, pointing his own gun at the other man. They both fired, and both missed, their tired bodies not able to handle the recoil from the guns. Arthur fell to the ground, the German somehow remaining standing.

"Sind Sie bereit zu sterben?" the German hissed. Arthur's gaze wavered, not understanding what he had said. The blue eyed man scoffed, repeating it in English. "Are you ready to die?" His jaw was set, his eyes seeming too soft for the words he was speaking.

Arthur's expression didn't change, and he didn't respond. He sat up as much as he could, closing his eyes again and feeling more tears streak the mud on his face.

The next thing he heard was a muttered curse and someone dropping to their knees next to him. His green eyes opened again, looking at the other man. "Are you the only one?" he asked in English, as that seemed to be the language they shared.

The German nodded, his right hand still tense around his gun.

"Me too," Arthur whispered, rolling onto his back and looking up at the sky. "Me too."

Piercing blue eyes, still alive but as dull as the American's, met his. "This was not a good battle."

"Good battle? Good battles don't exist. They're all bad, and everybody dies, then those still alive must go and fight again."

The German laughed hollowly. "I guess you are right. My brother has told me of the Great War, and he says it was worse, in ways, than this."

Now it was Arthur's turn to laugh. "Nothing can be worse than this. I don't even know if Peter is still alive..."

The German closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again. He relaxed his grip on his gun, dropping it beside him and extending that hand to Arthur. "My name is Ludwig Beilschmidt."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, letting go of his own weapon to take the hand and shake it. "Arthur Kirkland."

Ludwig took his hand back, unhooking his pack and starting to dig through it. "What was this about someone named Peter?"

"Peter is my son. Soon after you krauts started bombing London I made sure he went out to the country before I enlisted."

The German nodded. "Then he will be alive. They have bombed most of the country yet."

Arthur sat up, wincing as he did, and looked at Ludwig. " 'They'? They're your people! They're the ones killing millions of innocent civilians. Don't you dare try and-"

"I do not follow them willingly," Ludwig interrupted. "It is like...if your King and Parliament decided every man must believe that the ocean is filled with beer instead of water, and they would kill anybody who said otherwise, what would you do?"

"The ocean's filled with water, everyone knows that. Nobody would listen to them."

"Even when they have one of the most powerful armies in the world at their backs?"

"The government wouldn't be daft enough to think the ocean's filled with beer!"

"A government should not be stupid enough to think one race can be blamed for all the world's ills."

"Then why are you in the German military?"

"My brother cannot fight anymore, he was crippled in the Great War, and my cousin was as well. My father is too old to fight. There are no other men in my family. People were already saying we were against Hitler, that we loved Jews, and they were attacking us. I had to become a soldier to stop them from hurting my brother and father."

"And hurting my son is any better than that?"

"Everyone must do what they think is right. I do not think Hitler is right, but Gilbert could not be made to suffer more than he has."

"I concede you that. God knows what I would do..."

"God has no place here. That is something I have realized."

Arthur met Ludwig's eyes again, then looked away, at Ludwig's injured hand as he began to bandage it.

"You mentioned a son, Arthur. Do you have a wife?"

"No, not anymore. She was killed in the beginning of the Blitz."

"I am sorry."

"You should be."

"Then I apologize again."

"That won't make it better. It won't bring her back to life."

"Keeping her memory alive is the only other thing you can do." He paused for a moment. "What was she like?"

"She was American, if you can believe that. Long blonde hair, a little darker than yours, and bright blue eyes. Allie, she told me her name was, but it was actually Alexandra. She had come over during the first war, for a vacation, to see the sights. We talked, and when she didn't have enough money for a hotel she lived with my family. We began a...relationship of sorts when I turned 17, but then I left for university. As soon as I was back in London, I proposed to her, and then we were married many years later, when we had the money. We had Peter after a few years, and bought our own house instead of living in my old flat, and then..."

Ludwig put his uninjured hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Do not be sad, Arthur. She is in a happier place now, away from the war."

Arthur looked at him. "You said God had no place here."

"Not here, no. But in London God is present, protecting all the innocent people that could not get out of the city."

Arthur smiled bitterly. "I guess you're right. What about you, are you married?"

Ludwig shook his head. "No, I am not. There has not been time, between caring for my brother and father, and working." He hesitated slightly. "I do not like women, either way."

Arthur looked at him sharply. "That's not safe to say, you know."

"If you were going to kill me, you would have done it for my heritage, not for my homosexuality."

"That's true. I'm the same, as well, except I have no aversion to women." They were silent for some time, both staring in different directions. "What was it you do?"

"I am a clockmaker. They did not need clock makers in the military."
"I was a writer, not exactly suited for war."

"I wish I could have written. Many writers were needed for the propaganda."

They were silent for a while, Ludwig still trying to wrap up his hand tight enough as Arthur started digging in his own pack for bandages.

"How old are you, Ludwig?"

"26. How old are you?"

"32."

"You do not look it."

"Allie says...said I look like an old man."

"Hmm, I could see how she would say that."

"You look younger than you are."

"...Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I apologize for taking it as a compliment."

"All right."

Arthur finally located a roll of cloth, wrapping it around his torso to try and stop the bleeding. Ludwig finally wrapped his hand, laying it on his thigh.

"Ludwig."

"Yes, Arthur?"

"You're a good guy."

"Thank you. You are too, Arthur."

"I hope your brother and father are safe now."

"I wish for your son to remain safe."

"Thank you," Arthur sighed and looked up at the sky. "Do you think this war will end soon?"

"I think there will still be some time before it ends. The Americans have not joined you yet, so it will not end yet."

"You believe the Americans will join Britain?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you believe they will join Germany?" Ludwig asked in response, raising his own eyebrow.

"No, of course not."

"Then they will join you."

"They could remain neutral," Arthur commented, shifting slightly.

"They are to self-righteous to do that. I am sure they will join your side."

"When did you become the authority on American military planning?"

Ludwig just stared at him, a slight smile twisting his lips up. "I have many sources."

Arthur chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sure you do."

They were silent for several minutes, both staring out across the field.

"Aren't you worried about what will happen to your country?" Arthur asked, looking at Ludwig again.

"No. Hitler and his men will get what they have deserved."

"But if you live in-"

"I live in Münster. I will be safe."

"That's good. That will be either Britain's, France's, or America's," he smirked at Ludwig, "side."

Ludwig nodded. "Yes, I am fortunate. I am glad I will not be living in the Soviet's side."

"Do you think we'll make it out of the war alive?"

"I do not know. It is up to God."

"But God has no place here."

"He will make things right even when he is not here. That is the power of God."

"When the war is over, I might bring Peter to Münster to meet you."

"You will be able to meet Gilbert, and Roderich, and Elizabeta."

"You didn't mention those other two."

"Cousins. Roderich lost a leg in the Great War, and Elizabeta is his wife."

"I see."

"If I am able to leave Munster, I will come to London to see you as well."

"Feel free to."

The two men looked at each other, understanding yet awkward. Arthur heaved himself to his feet, re-shouldering his pack and picking up his gun. Ludwig did the same, cradling one arm to his chest.

"I will see you, Arthur."

"I'll see you as well, Ludwig."

They turned away from each other, walking in opposite directions back in the direction they knew their camps lay. Some meters away Arthur turned back and looked at Ludwig, only to find the German man staring back at him.

"If there wasn't a war, we would be great friends," Arthur called to him.

"If there wasn't a war, we would not have met," Ludwig responded. "And we are great friends even with the war."

Arthur nodded and raised his hand in a half-wave, Ludwig doing the same, before they both continued on their way.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Deanon from the kink meme. It's up to chapter 16 there, so I'm starting to edit and repost here ^^ this was the request:

Arthur and Ludwig are both soldiers on different sides in WWII and meet each other as the only survivors on a battle field. They're both wounded and too exhausted to fight and they end up talking and really liking each other. So they make a promise, that, if they both survive the war and there's better times somewhen, they will meet again and start all over.

If they ever do meet again, is up to anon :)

Bonus: I'd prefer if Germany didn't approve of the Nazi-ways, but didn't have another choice.