Disclaimer: I do not own the Hedwig and the Angry Inch universe, and I don't plan to make any money from it.

Author's Note: If you are planning to review, please see my profile first. Might save you some time. This story takes place about a month after the events shown in the movie. I concede that Yitzhak may well have become Krystal permanently after that, the way Hansel was Hedwig all the time. But in my version, he is only Krystal on stage and remains a male the rest of the time. I base this on the belief that Hansel/Hedwig would not be attracted to a woman, as well as my own preference for writing male characters. Also, I'm assuming Hedwig went back to using the name Hansel but continues to use Hedwig as a stage name and the name of his band. I used an online translation site for the German and Croatian words, and I apologize for any errors.

The Other Shoe

A lot had changed in the last month, and it was hard to believe that Hedwig no longer existed. She was gone, completely replaced by this man, Hansel. Not that Yitzhak minded. Hansel was much kinder and gentler than Hedwig had been, much happier. Hansel deserved that after all this time, but that didn't mean it wasn't hard to get used to. Yitzhak had never once seen his wife out of drag during the first eight years of their marriage. Not even once, and he had known better than to ask. It had been over a month, and most mornings he was still startled when he turned over in bed and found a man sleeping next to him.

This morning he opened his eyes, looked around their hotel room (a nice room that they had all to themselves) and made a point of remembering where he was and whom he was with. When he thought he had it sorted out and felt okay about it, he turned to face Hansel.

Hansel was beautiful. Yitzhak had always felt that Hedwig was the single most glamorous person he had ever seen, and when he would lie there silently in the mornings and watch Hansel sleep it was impossible to decide which one was more breath-taking. But as soon as Hansel woke up, there was no question about it.

For years he had been resigned to the fact that Hedwig would never really be happy with him. In the most important sense, he had never been her husband. He had been a valuable asset to her band, and she had been his only way out of Croatia. She'd soon become more to him, but he'd never become more to her.

Hansel, though… When Hansel turned that warm smile on him, or embraced him after a performance and kissed him right there on the stage, Yitzhak could actually believe for a few minutes that Hansel loved him. That was very nearly blissful. It never lasted; he still deeply believed that he wasn't good enough to be really loved, but for some reason his amazing, beautiful, talented partner seemed willing to pretend. And he could make due with that.

Slowly waking up, Hansel stretched and murmured, "Good morning, meine liebe." Noticing Yitzhak's admiring gaze, Hansel asked innocently, "What are you thinking about?"

"You're perfect." Yitzhak shook his head. "You're too perfect. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up."

Rolling on top of him, Hansel playfully pinned his shoulders to the bed and kissed him deeply. When they broke the kiss they were both slightly breathless.

"Awake now?"

"God, I hope so."

Hansel laughed and got up. "You go ahead and shower first. I'll order breakfast", he said, slipping on one of the robes the hotel provided.

Yitzhak got up and headed for the bathroom. He turned around in the doorway, hesitating.

"What's wrong?" Hansel asked, a bit of concern creeping into his voice.

"It's just… well, it's… nothing." And he turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him.

Once the door was closed, Yitzhak leaned against it and closed his eyes. He'd come close to saying, "I love you." He'd wanted to say it for the past month. But actually doing it would be stupid. All of this, Hedwig getting over Tommy; Hedwig, who looked at him with such disdain, becoming Hansel, who seemed to love him; the band finally making it, going from playing in front of a couple dozen embarrassed or overtly homophobic diner patrons to playing real concerts in front of over a thousand cheering fans. All of it was just too good to be true. He was sure it wouldn't be too long now before it all fell apart. Hansel would find another man, a better-looking one. Yitzhak knew his voice was good, but he also knew he wasn't the only guy with a good voice. To use an American idiom, Yitzhak was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

After a moment, he pushed himself away from the door. Hansel would be waiting to use the shower, so he'd better hurry. He quickly undressed and turned the water on as hot as he could stand. Closing his eyes, he tried to pretend this would last forever. Hansel would always love him. When they weren't on tour, maybe they could have a house somewhere. They'd write knew songs and sing them together. Things would never revert to the way they had been for so many years.

He was abruptly jolted out of his daydreaming when a pair of hands touched his shoulders. Someone was in here with him! With a half-choked scream he jerked away, slipping on the wet floor. A strong arm caught him and pulled him back against a firm, smooth chest. Someone was speaking loudly (angrily). He clawed at the restraining arm, terrified. A hand came up in front of his face and he bit it. There was a muffled curse from his attacker. Then he was forced around to face the other man and shoved back against the shower wall, pinned there. Desperate, he drew in his breath and screamed. The other man slapped him and then clamped a hand over his mouth. Still speaking loudly (aggressively), although Yitzhak could not understand any of the words, the stranger used his weight to force Yitzhak to the shower floor. He slapped him again, lightly (tauntingly). Curling up, Yitzhak began to cry. The arms were around him now, and fuck, he didn't want this to happen.

For a long moment nothing did happen. Maybe he'll go away! Forcing himself to speak, Yitzhak pleaded, "Ugoditi ne nanositi povredu mene. Ugoditi. Te mogao pravedan dopust! Ja nece reci bilo tko!"

A hand was gently stroking his back. He focused on that, and gradually the voice sounded less angry and threatening. The stranger was singing, now, a slow, sad song that Yitzhak usually sang lead on during shows.

"Hedwig?"

"Close, meine liebe."

"Hansel", Yitzhak corrected himself, looking up at his mate. His relief was too great for words, but Hansel understood. They held each other as the hot water continued to fall down on them both.