AN: never my best work but come on i haven't even seen the movie yet. just neil patrick harris as hedwig on a bootlegged version of the show on the youtubes. i don't even care at this point if all of this is wrong and ooc because you know what this is au then ok? wow people wow

"Thank you all for listening..."

Hans zoned out. He didn't care about what they had to say. There was something deeper going on inside of him

Her name was Hedwig. Hedwig. As if God was doing this to mock him, to punish him for what he did so long ago. Abandoning his family, leaving them to fend for themselves. And in East Germany, of all places. He didn't even know if they were still alive, if they were doing alright, if -

The band was packing up, and everyone in the diner was resuming business as usual. Hans stood up, walked right up to the lead singer, to Hedwig. He had to ask. He had to.

Because he could tell from her accent that she was German, and perhaps there was the slightest chance that maybe she knew them, maybe she knew if his family was alive or not. Maybe she could tell him that everything was okay, that they were fine. He coughed. "Um, Miss -"

"Just Hedwig is fine," she flashed a quick smile at him before resuming packing up her microphone. Hans rubbed his palms together. "I was just curious, where are you from? You sound German."

Oh God did he really just say that.

She was still.

"I am German," she said slowly. "I grew up in East Berlin. Why?"

"Well you see, my wife was named Hedwig just like you, and my son was named Hansel, and I was just wondering if you knew them -"

She dropped the mic. "OH"

"Well?"

"I..." she looked down at the floor. "Of course I knew them. I knew them better than anyone else in the town."

"So how are they?"

"How come you left?"

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"Why did you leave your family? Why did you leave your wife to teach sculpting class to armless children? Why did you leave your son to sing along to rock songs in the oven? Why?"

It was his turn to be still. "I... I never... I had to leave Berlin. I couldn't stay."

"So you left your family? Do you have any idea what they've been through? No, of course you don't." She threw the mic to Yitzhak and stormed out. Yitzhak shook his head at Hans. Hans went back to his seat, ignored by the diner, internationally ignored by everyone because nobody cared to listen. He put his head in his hands and rested all his weight on the table. He didn't notice five minutes pass, ten minutes pass, half an hour, closing time come, a person slip into the seat in front of him.

It was Hedwig.

"Hansel doesn't exist," she told him.

He popped his head up to look at her. "W-what do you mean? He's my son!"

"Hansel died the day he married Luther. Hansel died the day Luther left. Hansel died the day I became Hedwig."

She stood up and left the diner, once and for all. Hans stared as she left. Waved a quick goodbye.

"Goodbye, Hansel..."