A/N: Okay what you need to know. This is all a work of fiction. Also I am slashing the actors while they are in character from the movie. There's this rule on that we're not supposed to write about non-fiction things, but if they wanted it like that then why do they have a category for it? And I know the Pianist isn't the only non-fiction category on . There's Tombstone and Valkyrie too.
I know what you're thinking, "AH! Another Pianist slash fic from this woman!" Yes! It is true, another one. I can't help it.
The word Juden means Jews, Jude mean Jew, in German, I believe, but I'm not entirely sure. I don't speak German so sorry if my translations are a bit off. I got my translations off the internet. "Ja Herr, Kapitän," should mean, "Yea Sir, Captain." And "Dankeschön," should mean, "Thank you."
Warnings: Slash. Hosenfeld/Szpilman. This is historical slash, so if anyone has a problem with that please don't read. This is all a work of fiction. So, please don't get me in trouble with .
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just putting on paper what floats around my brain.
Rated: M for Mature Audiences Only.
Summary: Wladyslaw Szpilman stumbles upon a lonely and drunken Wilm Hosenfeld one night, and recognizing him as the Nazi captain, who had once saved him from a group of Nazi soldiers, tries to get him home. Things don't go quite as planned. SLASH!
It Started at the Bar
Szpilman was currently sneaking through the back alleys of the Warsaw Ghetto with a small bag of bread and cheese he had smuggled in. It seemed to be getting more and more dangerous every time he did this. Stealing food from the Nazis, that was. But they always had enough food to fill their bellies, while the Jews of Poland barely had enough to fill the belly of a rat.
Needing to cross the road, Szpilman peeked his head out and into one of the brighter lit streets when he noticed two SS soldiers walking his way. Ducking back into the alley as fast as he could, Szpilman started praying a silent prayer that they hadn't seen him. But as it so happened they had seen him.
As he quickly turned around and started to retrace his previous steps the two SS soldiers stopped him. "Halt!" One of them yelled as they ran up to Szpilman. "Come here!"
Szpilman had no choice but to go over to the soldiers who had called him. Szpilman felt his fear turn his blood into ice water. He knew what was going to happen next. First, some verbal abuse, then physical, if not death, and then they'd take his food. At his last thought Szpilman could feel his stomach knot in hunger and pain. He hadn't eaten in three days.
"I don't want any trouble," stated Szpilman, cautiously, as the soldiers drew closer, head bowed in submission. The two soldiers just laughed in his face, although Szpilman didn't know what was so funny. Everything he had said had been true.
"Trouble?" Asked one soldier, sarcastically. "We are not the ones causing trouble. You Juden are." The soldier viciously shoved Szpilman backwards until he hit the brick wall of the building behind him. These soldiers were implying that by just being a Jew that, Szpilman, was causing trouble.
"Please," begged Szpilman, but it seemed his pleas fell on deaf ears. "I mean no harm." Szpilman clutched the bag of bread and cheese close to his stomach as his back was pushed flush against the wall behind him, the arm across his chest as heavy and as strong as an iron bar. The soldier whose arm restrained Szpilman leaned his head close enough to Szpilman's that Szpilman could feel his hot breath ghost over his ear. Szpilman was scared that the man would bite his ear clean off. In fact, Szpilman started to shake with fear.
Finally the soldier whispered, almost inaudibly, against Szpilman's ear, "But I do."
As the soldier pulled away, Szpilman saw a wicked and sinful grin spread wide across his face. Tears swelled up in Szpilman's eyes. He could only imagine what horrors these two soldiers could do to him. And from the tales that had been told to him by other Jews who had been forced to do acts of such sexual heinous that death seemed like a nicer option.
Szpilman heard the two men laugh, maliciously, so he shut his eyes tightly and prayed that it would all be over quickly. He heard the shuffle of feet as the two soldiers began to move closer. Yes, he decided, this would be the end for him.
"Hey!" Yelled someone from behind the two soldiers, the person's voice cutting through the night like the first rays of sunshine in the morning. "Leave him alone!"
Opening his eyes, Szpilman looked up to see who had saved him. His rescuer approached the three of them quickly. Noticing the symbols on the man's coat, Szpilman concluded that his rescuer was a German Captain, and then wondered if he was in even more trouble.
A few words were spoken between the Nazi soldiers as Szpilman watched from the sidelines, hoping to go unnoticed. The German Captain finally waved off the two other soldiers and with one final salute they were gone, leaving Szpilman alone with the Captain.
"Are you alright?" Asked the Captain, kindly, as he turned to Szpilman.
"Ja Herr, Kapitän," answered Szpilman, timidly. "Dankeschön." Szpilman feared that now that he was the captive of a German Captain that his punishment would be far worse than what it would have been with just the two SS soldiers.
Noticing that Szpilman was shaking, the Captain, kindly, tried to sooth his fears away by reassuring him that he was not going to hurt him.
"I mean you no harm Jude," stated the Captain as he walked up next to Szpilman and placed a gentle hand on his trembling shoulder. Szpilman flinched at the contact, but when he noticed that the Captain wasn't going to strike him he settled back down; calm, but still tense and poised to flee at any moment.
"You know, a Jude, like you," stated the Captain, "should not be out past curfew. It's dangerous, as you have seen. Where do you live? I shall walk you there."
Szpilman hesitated for a moment before deciding to give him the address. And true to his word the Captain, after receiving the address, began to walk with Szpilman to his house.
Szpilman felt a sense of dread wash over him, knowing that this night could only end one of two ways. One, the Nazi captain could kill him. Two, he could give the man what he wanted and maybe walk away alive. But the thought of sexually pleasing this man made Szpilman's stomach churn in unpleasant ways. Not to mention that he wasn't very skilled in such things. What if he did something wrong or not to the Captain's likings, then what? Would he kill him for that? Szpilman's mouth formed into a deep frown thinking that the man would probably have his way with him and then kill him afterward anyways.
"Tell me Jude," started the Captain as he took long, determined strides, making it hard for the shorter and malnourished Szpilman to keep up. "What exactly were you doing out this late?"
"Um…" Stuttered Szpilman, thinking that there went his dinner. Not that it would matter much now, he was sure that the Captain would kill him. Szpilman prayed that it would, at least, be a swift and painless death. "I was getting something to eat." The Captain said nothing; he just kept staring and walking forward. Five silent minutes later, the German Captain and Szpilman had arrived at their destination.
A cold sweat broke out across Szpilman's body as he looked up at his empty house. Would the Captain want them to go inside? Would he want to take him on the bed? Floor? How did this even work?
Oh God! Szpilman cried in his mind. His heart leapt up to his throat and he tried to forcibly swallow it back down.
"Well, um…" Said Szpilman, deciding to get this over with already. "This is it. So, ah…"
"Good night," the German Captain abruptly said as he smiled warmly at Szpilman.
Szpilman stared back at the Captain, mouth slightly agape and confused. This had to be some kind of trick. The minute that he turned his back to the Captain he would probably get a bullet to the head or a knife in the back.
"Thank you," stuttered Szpilman, timidly, walking up the steps to his house. Szpilman watched from the corner of his eye as the Captain turned and started walking away before slowing and faltering in his steps before finally stopping and standing were he stood for a moment.
"Jude wait!" Yelled the Captain, turning around and running up to Szpilman while digging in his coat pocket.
This is it. Thought Szpilman tensing up and squeezing his eyes shut.
"Here," the Captain said, shoving something about the size of a matchbook into Szpilman's hand. Szpilman opened his eyes and looked down at what the Captain had handed to him. It was money! Not much, but a few, folded, small denomination bills, but to Szpilman it was the best gift he had received in years.
"What is…?" Began Szpilman but was cut off before he could finish.
"It is not much, but it should feed you for a few days," stated the Captain as he walked back down the steps and onto the side walk. "That should help to keep you from running around at night. Take care of yourself, Jude."
"Wait!" Called Szpilman, "What is your name?"
"Hosenfeld. Captain Wilm Hosenfeld."
And it was a name that Szpilman would not soon forget.
A/N: Okay, so there's chapter one. I promise a drunken Hosenfeld in the next chapter, you know I'm good for it.
Special thanks to all who read my Hosenfeld/Szpilman fics. Thank you so much! And don't be shy, drop a line and let me know how I'm doing.
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