This is a story that just came to me, and I don't want too big of an authors note right now so…

Dislcaimer: I don't own Blaine, Kurt, or Burt. They are Ryan Murphy's the brilliant guy. I also don't own anything WW II related.

Thanks, Enjoy and let me know what you think. Should I continue?

Edit: 6/3/11 I'm Graduating today, yay! On another note, I have replaced this chapter and added things to it as well as change a few things. Not everything is different but some of my historical inaccuarcies have been fixed. If I missed anything or you wish to add anything let me know in a review. Thanks!

It was a cold day in October 1944 when Blaine Anderson and his parents were brought into Dachau in the back of a truck. They had been marched, and put on a train in small and confined cars with little space for anything including breathing, then they had been put on trucks and were now arriving, driving under the gates at the entrance to a NAZI Concentration camp.

Blaine and his parents were being transported there, along with many other Jewish families who had been living in their hometown with them. Blaine's father was an accountant, like his father before him and was very quiet, serious, and stern man. His mother was also quiet, but gentle and more prone to soft laughter than to lectures or serious discussions.

The first gate they drove under was large and made of stone and looked solid and fortified. There was an eagle with open wings perched on the swastika symbol above the gate.

They drove through what looked like an army base and came to a second gate. This one was across a bridge an had an observation deck on top with a gunman peering down at them through the windows. The gate was wrought iron and had words set into it. "Arbiet Macht Frei." Work sets you free, they read.

As they drove under the second gate of Dachau, Blaine stared up at the sky which was gray and cloudy. How long? He wondered. How long will it be like this?

Whether he was thinking about the weather or the uncomfortable method of transportation is uncertain. However one may believe, he was questioning his God.

The car bumped to a stop and the people swayed as the back of the truck was opened by the SS and the people were herded out. They were lined up and inspected. Then they were assigned to a barrack. There they were assigned a job.

This was what kept the concentration camp running. The forced labor of all the Jews and other misfortune people who were here.

Blaine was assigned to barrack 28. Apparently the man who had previously occupied his bunk had been unable to work any more. Blaine hadn't gotten the details, there were just to many places he could be. So he was left to wonder as he went back outside and looked around for the man who assigned the jobs.

His father had been sent to barrack 17 and his mother to the women's barracks across the camp. He didn't know what work they would be assigned but at the moment he was living in a trance not believing even his own eyes. He wasn't really here. He was actually at home asleep in his bed, having a nightmare. So he simply continued to stand there, waiting to be told what to do.

"Hey, you there! What are you standing about there for?" Asked a man armed with a gun and wearing the swastika on his armband.

"I don't have a job yet sir."

"Well why don't we get you started then? Drop and give me 50 pushups."

Blaine was a bit startled at this command but immediately and without thinking, followed orders. When he was done he stood up and tried not to show any sign of weakness. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten and was sure he hadn't for about three days. How he had managed to have the strength to complete those pushups was beyond him. He was sure he was swaying on his feet and at any moment would faint to the ground. However, this did not happen and Blaine continued to stand there at attention as if he was the one in the army and the man walked around him examining him.

"Dirty Jew. What's your barrack number?"

"Number 28."

"Go over there and help those men with the digging."

"What are they digging, sir?" Blaine barely dared ask.

"Their own grave probably." The man answered. "Now get moving!"

Blaine jumped and hurried away in the direction the man had pointed.

As he got there he was given a shovel by another guard and hurriedly got to work, jumping into the hole and beginning to dig with a renewed vigor.

"Hey sonny, save your strength." An older gentleman called. "You're going to need it. They aren't going to let you stop working once you get this job done, so what's your hurry, huh?"

Blaine saw the wisdom in the man's words and slowed down his pace but not his determination.

Blaine worked all day and was exhausted and even more hungry than before when a bell was sounded for him to stop. He looked up from his working, wiping his brow, and noticed a flame that seemed to be burning eternally. It was on the other side of a wall coming out of a large pipe somewhat resembling a chimney.

Tearing his eyes away from this Blaine noticed a line forming near the doorway of a building marked kitchen. The men were given a somewhat steamy bowl and a moldy piece of bread, then were sent away. Blaine hurried to joing the line along with the older wise gentleman from before.

He was handed a bowl which was then filled with…water. It was supposedly Chicken soup, but it resembled the water after all the laundry has been washed. It was gray, and tasted like rubber and had little bits of bread floating in it. To Blaine it was one of the best meals he'd ever had, he was that hungry.

He and the rest of his bunker mates were then herded back to their bunker. Guards were posted at the entrance and they were told not to go anywhere until told to do so.

Blaine climbed onto his bunk which he shared with an older man and two other boys somehwere in their 20's, as there were more men than bunks.

Blaine turned on his side to try and give the other guy some more room and as he did he noticed the boy across the aisle from him was crying quietly to himself. His hair was an interesting shade somewhere between blonde and brunette mixed with highlights of an auburn shade. His figure was small, not just because of lack of food but also because his build was slight. He had a flawless angelic face, except for the tears silently hitting his lump of cloth that was supposed to be a pillow but was really just his shirt bunched up under his head.

He too was turned on his side and was facing Blaine, though in the dark shadows he could not know that Blaine was studying him.

Blaine, whose compassionate heart couldn't stand to see anyone cry, even in circumstances like this whispered as quietly as he could over to the boy, "Hey, what's wrong?"

The boy stopped crying and peered in Blaine's direction trying to make him out. When he found it almost impossible he tried to wipe his eyes and said, "My father. They sent him away somewhere."

Blaine was silent for a moment and the boys tears started again. "I'm sorry." He paused and then asked, "Was he here long?"

The boy nodded. "It seems like forever. I think it's been 4 months perhaps." He sniffed quietly, took a shuddering breath and said, "He was so much stronger than me. Now I don't know when I'll see him agin."

"Why did they…?" He let the question hang and open for the boy to answer if he chose.

"He couldn't keep up with the work we were assigned to. So they took him to away." The boys voice seemed almost detached now but Blaine could hear his voice catch.

"I'm sorry." Blaine said again.

The boy nodded. "He used to sleep in your bunk. Until now that is."

Blaine understood what had brought on the tears then.

"What about your parents?" The boy asked. "Where are they?"

"Barrack 17. I'm no longer sure where my mother is at. Why do they separate some and not others?"

The boy shrugged. "There must be method to their madness. But then again, maybe not." He sighed. "My name is Kurt, by the way. Kurt Hummel."

Blaine kicked himself mentally. He hadn't introduced himself. Where were his manners? "I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

Just then a guard standing outside yelled for the prisoners to shut up and Kurt and Blaine had to give up conversing out of fear.

Blaine vaguely wondered why Kurt was here. Then he simply assumed as he drifted off to sleep that he was a Jew.

He was wrong.

So…what do you think? Should I continue with this story. It just came to me while I was reading some fanfic. I was like, how were homosexuals classified in WW II. Jews had the start of David, what did Gays have? Well apparently you're going to have to review to find out or look it up on google.

Okay so yeah, there is the edited chapter and I hope to get the second chapter up really soon. Sometime this weekend if at all possible. Now that school is almost out I'll be able to post more frequently.

Thankies,
OSK