The Strain: Another Season
Episode 4

Author's note:

I have noticed that there was one American reader who repeatedly hit this chapter throughout September and October 2017. (Either that or there were many Americans who all found this tucked-away fic interesting and not even in my wildest fantasies can I believe that is the case!) I have also noticed a recent spike in traffic in Gets Rough on AO3 and have posted a similar note over there, although on that site I can't tell the nationality of the reader or which chapter has been hit.

You (and we can both be confident that I am addressing only one person) have not favourited, followed or reviewed this story and that's fine. To be honest, I'm delighted you found it (it was posted August 2015) and read it so often. But I must admit, I'm fascinated as to what in particular appeals to you.

If you wish (and the last thing I want to do is scare you off), you could post a guest review and I would delete it before it appeared publicly on the website. I have enabled review moderation so it would be as easy as the click of a button. Then it would be like a private message (PM) except that you wouldn't need to create an account or sign in or compromise your anonymity in any way.

There must be something about this section that you prefer to all my other posts and it just might be that I need only one person's encouragement to write more of it.

But only if you want to…

Otherwise have a happy new year and thanks for reading.

Update 27 Jan 18: If you (my cherished American frequent flyer) have just moved north of the border then ignore this addition. If not, then there is a new Canadian reader, albeit not such a regular visitor as my American friend was in the autumn. If the latter is the case, you are most welcome to this hard-to-find fic in an obscure fandom and the same offer as described above for total anonymity applies to your feedback if you wish it.

(Also the same thanks and the same wish for a happy 2018!):)

Update 05 February 2019: I'm gradually going through my fics deleting any author's notes but I'm leaving this one so you know you can still use the guest review facility for total anonymity.
I check every week, at least and will delete the guest review before it becomes public if you ask. That goes for all my fics.
I will respect your privacy and you can contact me in your own language. I will always try to translate.
Us Strain fans are a dying breed and I'd love to hear from fellow survivors!

Gets Rough
Chapter One

Poland 1944

The car drops Standartenführer Eichhorst off at the camp gate and turns around. The guards salute him through. He nods at them and walks a little unsteadily towards a wooden building – the only one still lit at this hour. Despite the clear night and the snowy ground, he doesn't bother to fasten the jacket that Maria undid. More mortars fall nearby and his officers shout orders at underlings but Eichhorst doesn't deviate from his path. He takes a swig of the bottle of brandy Dreverhaven brought him and totters into the workshop.

The prisoner rattles something but he's hard at work tracing the pattern onto the final panel by the time Eichhorst fumbles open the lock and swings the gates open. Sweating slightly despite the chill, he collapses onto a stool, raises his bottle dramatically and tells the boy, 'You must pick up the pace, A230385.'

West Berlin 1989
Dr David Kaplan's University Office

Professor Abraham Setrakian is teaching two new students. The girl sits close to him, following every word with rapt attention but the young man is doodling on a photograph of a good-looking man in SS uniform. Corey Henke is giving Dr Werner Dreverhaven's image a Hitler moustache and acne.

'Oh my God, Professor!' exclaims Sandra, horrified. 'What did you think when he undid his flies?'

Corey rolls his eyes and pulls a second picture of an older man towards his desecratory pen.

'Exactly what you're imagining, quite probably, my dear,' says the Professor. 'But he only relieved himself in my pissoir.'

'Oh, thank God!' she says, her hand pressed to her throat in relief.

'Then he asked me if I thought the Third Reich would last...'

'As if you were a friend?' interrupts Sandra, incredulously.

Setrakian nods. 'And when I said no, he proceeded to orate zealously on behalf of Hitler and another entity who he said would deliver everything Hitler promised and more,' continued the Professor.

'Who do you think that might be?' asks Corey, his interest rekindled.

Setrakian pauses. 'You aren't yet ready for a new introduction,' he says.

'Oh right,' says Corey, bored again. 'Another vampire I take it. Come on, Sandra, it's late. We'd better head back to the hotel.'

'But he's so fascinating,' she protests.

'I could listen to you for hours, Professor,' she tells Setrakian.

'We'll start again in the morning,' he says. 'Perhaps tomorrow, Mynheer Henke won't tire so easily.'

Corey scowls and Sandra smirks. 'Will you tell us about the other "entity" then?' she asks.

'Maybe,' twinkles Setrakian. 'Remember, keep each other close.'

Poland 1944

'If that God you believe in really existed, what d'you suppose he would think of you?' rasps Eichhorst in Abraham's ear. Once again, he's far too close and the young man grinds his teeth. He wipes the moisture and brandy fumes away with a grimace but not until the Nazi is safely out of the building.

Eichhorst staggers outside, growling with frustration and barks at a passing lieutenant. He meanders off down the main thoroughfare and a shadow peels away from the workshop wall to follow him.

'If you're quick enough, you might grab my pistol!' mimics Dreverhaven sarcastically. 'Don't you wanna try?' he laughs.

Eichhorst has halted at the first syllable and now sighs wearily, 'Go home, Werner.'

'Puh-lease! What kind of seduction is that?' he drawls.

'Didn't you have someone or something to defile back at the Von Croÿs'?' says Eichhorst.

'Well, I did,' says Dreverhaven. 'But it turns out they weren't as broad-minded as their sister.'

Something pointed in the doctor's tone makes Eichhorst cock his head and turn slowly towards him - every movement suddenly steady and deliberate. 'Their sister?'

'Mmm. Yes,' says Dreverhaven overly nonchalant. 'Clara and Victoria were going to…'

'The Von Croÿ twins?'

Dreverhaven grins proudly.

'You've had Eva? My daughter? You? YOU!' seethes Eichhorst, practically foaming at the mouth. Dreverhaven's smile vanishes as he realises that he's pushed his friend too far.

Whatever fragile barriers were holding Eichhorst's rage in check now rupture spectacularly and he lays into the doctor with appalling ferocity.

He gathers a crowd but no one intervenes. Either they daren't challenge their commanding officer or each of them has experienced Dreverhaven's cruelty at some point.

Some time later, Eichhorst drags the doctor's groaning carcass to the gates and tells the open-mouthed guards, 'He's been discharged. Dishonourably. Tell him when he comes round.' He turns away then, as if remembering adds, 'And he's never to show his face here again.'

Then he bellows, 'HAUPTMANN!' at the camp in general. A tattooed bruiser doubles his way to Eichhorst and rips a terrified salute.

'We will clear Herr Doktor's laboratory at first light,' says Eichhorst.

He clutches his head, and then quietly says in a calm, reasonable voice. 'Now, please. Stop shouting.'