Two Small Flowers

Ludwig is sent to watch over a concentration camp in WWII. Little does he know that he will quickly fall in love with the man behind the gate: Feliciano Vargas. In his deathbed, Ludwig tells this story in hopes of paying one final respect to his lover and his own brother's struggles.

Human AU

GerIta

I do not own Hetalia

[A/N: I just wanted to point out that this has become a very important story to me. There isn't enough LGBT literature in the world and I may as well write to expand this little-explored area. The facts stated about the imprisonment of homosexuals (under the Third Reich I believe) and how their so-called rescuers abandoned them is, unfortunately, true. Enough of this, on to the story. I hope you enjoy]

Opal Virginia was crying. Her mother in law had finished a long list of insults, mocking Opal's middle age, the tender wrinkles forming, and even mocking her son on his bad choice. The son concerned, Sam Virginia, gave her a painful smile.

"Go watch a movie or something. I think it is best that you leave for now." He whispered, handing her a ten dollar bill. She swallowed back tears and took it, going out into the hall where she begun a long session of weeping. She tucked the bill away and pulled out a candy bar instead, munching on it and pushing her shock of coppery hair behind her ears. She looked around, teary eyed, at the doctors that ignored her in uncomfortable silence, and spotted the triangular shape of a German shepherd's head. She blinked, wondering what sort of cruel illusion that was, and discovered that indeed there was a long, handsome dog in the room across from hers. She made her way over and peered in. The partition separating the two beds in the room, one unoccupied, was drawn away. The dog, leashed to a heavy sofa, paced along the front of the room.

When she spotted Opal, she jumped forwards, straining her leash and woofing. Opal stepped back, demurred by the ferocity of the dog. The man on the bed said something in what Opal assumed was German and the dog reluctantly settled down. Opal, knowing she was already overstepping some boundaries, inclined her head to peer in. On the bed closest to the window was a faded old man. His head was strong and still handsome, with piercing blue eyes, and thinning white hair. He was hooked up to several machines whirring and buzzing lazily. He turned his head towards Opal. A smile cracked across his face briefly before melting away.

"Why are you standing there?" he asked in perfect English.

"I-I'm sorry," she said, playing with the ends of her curls out of habit.

"And why have you been crying?" he added, looking at the tears still brimming her eyelashes.

In a moment she found herself sitting beside him and petting the dog, telling the old man all about her mother in law, her dieting problems, her loss of interest in life, and her child's outrageous behavior. "He should know better, he's in college!" she wept.

Although Opal assumed at first that the man, Ludwig B., would dismiss her in a moment with several short curses, he listened to her patiently and even gave her some advice. He must have noticed her surprise for he gave another brief grin. "I'm too old to yell. I yelled enough in my lifetime." His eyes darted to the thin gray clock perched above the boxy television set.

"Do you have any family?" Opal asked.

"I had an older brother but he passed away some time now. My cousins sometimes visit, but no one I know is young anymore except…."

"Except…?" Opal leaned in, intrigued.

"Except for Feliciano," Ludwig closed his eyes. "He will always be young. As long as I remember him he will never have a gray hair, a wrinkle, a brown spot on his flesh, no, nothing… But I shouldn't bore a young lady such as yourself with this long, sad story."

"Oh I have nowhere else to go," she said hastily, sitting back on the chair, propping her teal purse on her lap. "I can watch a movie, that's where my husband thinks I am, but this is far more interesting, believe me." She smiled at him and offered a pretzel from the plastic bag she kept in her purse. He took one and thanked her, launching into his story.

Part I: The First and Second Decision

Ludwig's older brother heard the news first. When he did, he thumped Ludwig hard across the back. He was a thin, wiry young man with white hair that stuck out in tufts, crimson eyes, and a contagious grin. Ludwig jumped when his brother's fist met his shoulder blade and turned around. His brother was wringing his hand.

"You didn't tell me about this!" Gilbert cried, holding out a formal document just out of Ludwig's reach. Ludwig glowered at it, wondering what Gilbert was raving on about now.

"Tell you about what? How can I tell you about something I don't even know about?" Ludwig muttered, hoping Gilbert didn't knock over his water or his plates. A piece of imported sour bread lay on his plate. The two were soldiers living in a small house in Germany, they could afford goods, but Ludwig hated to waste them. The images of families starving due to inflation raced in his mind.

"You've been promoted! Don't you see?" Gilbert hooted, finally relenting. He slammed the paper down. "And all I get to do it monitor these streets. You get to work for something useful, don't you see? Sadly you have to be in a camp with those… homosexuals." He made a face. Gilbert paused, as though disoriented. He shook his head. "And disabled people and those Roma people," he added.

Ludwig watched Gilbert strut away, fidgeting. Ludwig knew Gilbert had fallen in love with the pianist, their neighbor. He had seen Gilbert stay up late at night by the dim oil lantern, gazing out the window and listening to the Austrian man play. His notes trickled in through the thick glass of their windows and Gilbert would gaze out, his eyes drooping with sleep but a smile on his lips. Ludwig pretended to be asleep, charmed.

But… But now he had to monitor their executions. It was right, wasn't it? They were a threat. Queer people didn't belong. Right? Ludwig gazed at the paper for a long time. It meant a better pay. Better glory in the eyes of his country, of the world. Even when, in later years, the American army arrived, they would ignore them. His work was… good. Sure.

…

Ludwig looked across the bed at Opal. She was completely engrossed in story. She blinked when he stopped. He hadn't gone very far yet already she was in that tiny house, feeling the heat of summer, and the prospect looming on him.

"I thought it was for the best," Ludwig said. "I never expected to fall in love with someone there. I was a stupid soldier and an even stupider man."

"I didn't even know homosexuals were prosecuted at that time." Opal admitted quietly. "Why… imprison… love…?" she said slowly, choosing each word.

"I don't really know."

…

"You said yes, you'll go, right?" Gilbert hounded him the following morning.

"Yes, I did." Ludwig said over breakfast. He would be leaving soon enough. That was his first decision.

Ludwig spent two solid hours preparing his body: cleaning, washing, brushing, dressing, and even adding a bit of scent to his neck so not to reek later on. Then he spent a half hour packing. He said good bye to the fat adorable Deutsch Hound who licked his hand. Ludwig smiled sadly and turned to leave. As he left he was approached by the pianist, as fate seemed keen on tripping him at every step.

"Can you take this letter to your brother?" The Austrian asked formally, holding out the sealed envelope.

"Why?" Ludwig asked, placing his bag in the backseat of his car. The Austrian wore his favorite long blue jacket and his brown hair was slicked back. He frowned.

"It's personal."

Ludwig nodded. Then he made his second decision. He promised to take it. The Austrian walked away. Ludwig entered his car and drove off into the dense green forestry. As he moved he tore the letter open with one hand and stopped at the side of the road, out of sight from the homes lining the streets. Written in lolling, looping handwriting with a tinge of an Austrian dialect was:

Dear Gilbert,

I understand that you have been eyeing me for some time. And I wish to embrace such feelings…

Ludwig didn't read anymore. He recalled his brother's anxiety, his brother's stubbornness, and he tore up the paper, as he had planned. As he drove off he unrolled the window and stuck a gloved hand out, his green army uniform turning yellow in the sunlight. He unfurled his fingers and let the shards of letters fall away, fluttering like dead leaves into the street. Some fell into puddles or mud. Others were carried off further. Still others caught in trees with their kin, dead among the living. Ludwig didn't look back. He didn't look back for a long time.

…

"Opal?"

Opal looked up and saw Sam in the hallway.

"Oh, I have to go," she said sadly. Ludwig smiled mutely.

"Will you come back?"

"Yes, next week." Opal said hopefully. "I might come back sooner. I'll try. I want to hear the rest—that is if it is no trouble on you."

"No trouble at all," Ludwig said. "It's good to let go of the past like this."

Opal blushed, though she didn't know why, and went out into the hallway.

"Where were you?" her husband asked in a gentle tone. He was a small man in glasses, could never say no, and could never raise his voice at his equally soft-spoken other half.

"I was listening to a story."

"It does the elderly good," he said. He held out his hand and she took it, squeezing his palm lightly. "And I'm sorry about Momma. She has been cranky for a long time now, even when I was a teen. Then again, I wouldn't go out to parties like she wanted me to. She would threaten to kick me out if I didn't get a social life." He laughed and let go of Opal's hand. She could see he was balding.

That night the beginnings of Ludwig's story spun in her head. She was exposed to an entirely different world. And she wanted more.