This is the fic that I decided to do off the one verse from my previous fic about the Captain, Lupus Vir. I wanted to do something involving Johanna and so this sort of came out. This will be a lenghty fic, my second. Hopefully it will go somewhere. I like the Captian A LOT. He's my favorite Nazi. When I'm reffering to the Captain I call him Him with a capital H. I don't know how long this will be but more than likely only a few chapters, as I wanted it to be a one shot.
Anyway, Enjoy! Don't forget to Review!
Disclaimer: helling isn't mine.
He was over a hundred by the time that He came into contact with the first woman to make Him feel something. Something besides pity, like He had for his mother. She was German, as Germany was were he had moved to. This was not a good time to be in Germany as the wars of Liberation were being raged. Germany's attempt to free themselves from French rule were going unethically. German men killed and raped French women and they killed people of French descent. He was watchful, ever watchful. His father had been a German man, but His mother had been a French whore. When she finally lost her mind, He moved away from her and led his life of solitude as a werewolf.
That was when He met Johanna.
She was a blond girl, with blue eyes and thin wrists. She wore bangles on her thin ankles and they jingled as she moved. She danced in a bar for men and would offer her company to them for the night if they so wished. The soldiers jeered her and threw her pennies, while He only watched her dance, ever so elegantly. She smiled like His mother had smiled. She looked up at Him through her bangs as she bent to pick the money up off the ground. Men laughed.
One even went so far as to pull at her dress as she danced. A drunkard that had nothing better to do than taunt a woman. He stood.
"Fuck off," the man said in German and He Looked at him with steely eyes. He was easily taller than the man, and He knew that He was stronger. The man though, had no idea. He pushed the man out of the bar and into the mud, where the man's friends only laughed at him. He turned around and went back in to help Johanna up from the bar floor. She smiled at Him and pushed her hair behind her ear. He smiled at her.
"Thank you," she said in German. Upon closer inspection He found that she wasn't German though. She was in fact, French. Her face betrayed her genes. He had spent so much time in France that He knew a French person at a glance. Her accent was also not very good, which was probably why she worked in a bar. The men wouldn't even notice.
He nodded by way of 'You're welcome' and jerked His head to the upstairs. She more than knew what He meant. She picked up her hat of money and took His arm as they took to the stairs. They went to the only bedroom that was empty and when they entered He locked the door behind them, looking around in disgust. He had definitely been in cleaner rooms. She set her hat down on the dresser and turned to Him. She wore a corset that pushed her breasts up to her chin. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Don't say much do you?" she said in German. He shrugged. She kicked off her boots and went to Him. She had to stand on tiptoes to kiss Him. He helped by picking her up by the waist. "Right, well if you want to be quiet, then that's fine with me."
He shrugged again and kissed her once more. Her lips tasted of dry blood and salt. She smelled of it too. He took her in, smelling her dirty hair and finding it appeasing to His senses. She began undoing His clothes when He pushed her down on the bed. It squeaked in protest and she gave a bit of a laugh. He pushed her dress up and kissed her knees. Johanna looked at Him and helped Him pull her dress up over her head. He took the strings of her corset in His fingers and undid them deftly, cracking it open like He would a skull. She smiled like His mother again. He felt a strange anger and sorrow well up inside Himself at this.
He undressed quickly then and He took her, all for Himself. Wordlessly in His arms on that dirty bed that rattled with their movements. Words could not express anything between the two anyway. They didn't need them to feel each other's warmth and comforting. They needed not words, but silence to feel appeased.
When the morning came they were laying in each other's arms. Furious knocking was being done down the hall. He awoke at the shouts of German soldiers. Calling for French women. He woke her and dressed quickly. No one was going to take this away from Him, not like His mother was stolen from Him by madness. Johanna was His.
When she was dressed He took her to the window and helped her out. She was questioning, asking what was going on. He couldn't answer so He picked her up in His arms and leapt with her.