Author's Note:
This story was written mostly as a dare, not meant to offend anyone or their beliefs. My friends and I were looking over articles responding to the fanfiction "Jesus and Hitler: A Romance." I remarked that it was not the pairing that made me disgusted, but just how awful it was portrayed. I went on to say that I bet I could write a story of that pairing, only better because it would actually have plot. And then, of course, my friends basically told me to 'put my money where my mouth was,' and dared me to write a story for the pairing Jesus/Hitler. And thus, Jestler was born.
I repeat, this story is not meant to be taken literally. I don't mean to offend anyone, truly. The ideas presented within do not reflect my own, personal beliefs.
That being said, enjoy.
Adolf Hitler left the stage of his latest rally, enthusiastic Nazi cheers following him. He kept his stride confident and firm even though he wanted nothing more than to just run into his private room and collapse. Talking in front of all those people was a necessary sacrifice to his comfort. His plans could not progress without the support of his party and country. Without the support, he would be just another dictator, not the elected-into-office Nationalist Leader he presented himself as.
He finally reached the comfort of his private room, shrugging off the people attempting to get his attention, and firmly shutting the door behind him. He locked and secured the door before finally allowing himself a moment to relax. He removed his military hat, placing it on the simple oak table, along with the stiff jacket from his ensemble. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped away the layer of sweat that had formed across his brow and upper lip, sinking into the available chair. Sometimes he wondered if all this was truly worth it, facing the rest of Europe in order to aid his country in breaking the chains of the Treaties of Versailles and St Germaine. They had been beaten down and near-destroyed under France's thirst for revenge and Britain's move to quench it. A sigh passed its way through his lips, and he sneered at his own weakness, pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher that had been left on the table for him while wishing for something stronger. Spread out were the latest reports from Poland and the spies within Britain, and he could feel a migraine building on top of his already pulsing headache.
"Lord, give me the strength and will to do what needs to be done," Hitler allowed a small prayer to fall from his lips as he picked up a pen to begin working.
"I don't know how much strength I can give you. You seem to have the situation pretty much under control," a male voice responded.
Hitler was immediately out of his chair with his firearm pointed at the intruder. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" he demanded.
"You are the one that called for me," the man retorted, taking a seat in the chair opposite to the one Hitler had just vacated. He was tall and skinny, confident in his movements. He was tanned and brunette, his slightly curly hair framing twinkling brown eyes, a beard of a similar shade reaching down past his chin and to his collar bone. He was dressed all in white, a dress shirt and slacks, and he appeared completely comfortable in his surroundings.
"I called for no man," Hitler proclaimed, not wavering in the training of his weapon, not that the other man seemed bothered by it.
"Good thing I am not entirely a man then," he replied, pulling the water pitcher closer to him. The liquid turned a purple-red as he poured it into the second cup that had been left out. "Mmm," the man held the glass beneath his nose, "one of my favorite vintages." His eyes flickered upwards, focusing on him. "Would you like a glass?"
"What…that's impossible," Hitler's arm fell a few inches. It could not have happened, he knew that. That pitcher was water, but he also could not deny what his own senses told him, and not only had the drink changed color, but the fruity smell of the wine had now reached his nose. "It's a trick, nothing but a trick!" he asserted, stepping closer.
The man, if that's what he was, rolled his eyes, before moving closer to Hitler, who raised his gun in warning. The man held his hands up in the universal sign for 'I mean no harm,' and stretched out a finger to his forehead. Just like that, it felt like the stress and tension had disappeared, the throbbing that had been present since he first started his campaign receding, and not just fading but vanishing completely.
"Who are you?" Hitler questioned after a moment.
"I think you already know, but allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Jesus Christ, son of God. And you, Adolf Hitler, Führer of Germany, are in luck."
Hitler's arm fell completely, the gun nearly slipping from his fingers under the weight of the idol's gaze. "Why?" he barely whispered the word, but the deity heard it regardless.
"I have watched this planet, these people. I have watched for nearly two thousand years. Do you know what I have seen, throughout all these years? Sinner, after sinner, after sinner. And sometimes these sinners preach their ideals, spew their filth, all in my name, or in my father's name. And do you know the greatest power behind this filth? The empire that spreads from horizon to horizon? Britain. So pretentious they had to add a 'great' in front of it. My story is out there! I know it is, everyone knows it is, yet those people… They completely disregarded my history and portrayed me as a pale-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde-haired, Englishman," he sneered. "They took a look at the world, the beauty and diversity, and saw something to conquer, calling the natives of each land savages even as they slaughter and enslave, under the title of 'colonization.' They have done more than enough to earn my ire, along with their network of alliances. You are lucky, Adolf Hitler, because you are not entangled in that net which I am determined to destroy. That makes me on your side." The holy man had been pacing and gesturing throughout the entire rant, until he began addressing him once more, in which case he was unnaturally still.
Hitler said nothing for a moment, looking at this man who presented himself as something more. "How do I know you speak the truth?"
Jesus laughed then, a full belly laugh, before turning serious once more. "I have looked into the future and seen the outcome of this war. You will not win without my aid, trust me on that. Do not question me. Do not look this gift horse in the mouth."
There was a sharp intake of breath, before Hitler nodded. "Alright. What help can you provide me?"
"Well first off, you can stop persecuting Jews."
"What? Are you mad?" he demanded.
"No, I'm Jewish," Jesus emphasized. "And you'll want to stop murdering my worshippers. If anything, kill off the Christians! Warping the past to fit their ideals…as if I'd ever want a part of their stupid doctrine."
"That is not a change that can just happen! If I change the plans midway through- not to mention, the concentration camps are already open! It will take more than my word to shift our focus from Jews to Christians!" Hitler responded. Stop persecuting Jews! As if that was such an easy thing! "The persecution of Jews is what got the church allied on my side! Without them…"
"Yes, you'll lose some support, but you'll regain that support from the Jewish, once you apologize for your grievous mistake and misinterpretation of my father's will," Jesus motioned with one hand, as he took a seat.
"Apologize? Are you mad?" Hitler demanded.
"And then with the support you'll gain when I publicly support you…" Jesus continued to speak over him. "Once I prove to the world that I truly am who I say I am, and that I'm firmly on your side, what do you think will happen? There will of course be naysayers who refuse to believe and will join your enemy, but having the son of God on your side will up your numbers and public support, I promise you that."
Hitler took a seat at the table as well, and thought over the words. It wouldn't be easy to take away the prejudice he himself had allowed and encouraged to grow within his country, but if Jesus really could prove to the world that he is truly the son of God, then fulfilling his request would not be as difficult. All of his men were God-fearing, and with a deity's own request fueling the change, they wouldn't stand in the way, despite their personal beliefs. He flicked his focus back up to the man across from him. Hitler had always prided himself on thinking logically, and this whole conversation had been completely illogical. Jesus, appearing before him of all people? Yet, faced with the facts, he was inclined to believe in the idol.
"Alright. You will have to make an appearance before I can even broach the subject with my men. I can, however, send word out to the camps to stop the furnaces and introduction programs, allow the incomers to keep their belongings, and send them to tents right away rather than separating males from females and families. I will tell them I'm preparing for something big, and it is necessary for all the Jews to be in best possible condition. Once you have shown your support for me, I can work on taking down the camps, or at least replacing the prisoners with Christians, as per your desire. If you could manage to appear in public in front of a mass of people, proving who you are while offering your support, that would be best. You could offer your support under the condition that I stop persecuting the Jews or something similar," Hitler offered.
Jesus nodded. "That sounds feasible. You are an intelligent man, Hitler."
"Call me Adolf, you of all people deserve that right, sir."
"Adolf then. Just Jesus is fine, it is my name after all," Jesus waved his hand once more, filling the table with food. "Shall we eat something then? You must be hungry after your most recent rally?"
"Thank you," Hitler smiled, feeling his stomach rejoice at the offering of food.