Box Room

A/N: Hey, I really felt like writing the rest of Ernst, Ilse, Anna and Hanschen's story after the events of 'Meeting and Night', 'Box Room' takes place one year later and will be more from Ernst and Anna's perspective. Enjoy!

"Behind the false fire place, in our third story flat in Berlin, there's a box room. Sometimes it feels as if it's the only safe place in the world, and at the same time the most dangerous."

Ernst Robel snapped the diary shut, crossed the room furtively to a tiny crack in the smooth wall and peered out; he held his breath, nothing. His back against the hidden door, he opened the thin red book again and continued to write.

"Before 12:13pm last Sunday, I could wonder through the streets late at night if I wanted to, you could try and brush the sunshine off my clothes so that the darkness arrived early and we could be together, or at least alone, together. They couldn't stop you from pushing me back against the wall and kissing me, and they couldn't stop me from thinking about it. But at 12:13pm last Sunday it all changed."

"What's 'it' Herr Robel? Don't be ambiguous, clarify your point!" the words of Herr Sonnenstitch echoed through Ernst's head, his brain fuzzed.

Despite everything, today was one of his better days; there was something oddly soothing about the sparse secret room that was now his sporadic home. Last night, like almost every other night, they'd chosen to forget the informers, forget surveillance, forget the rules,

"I love you"

"I love you"

He'd woken up in Hanschen's arms.

"Do you remember who I am?"

Ernst had smiled a little, still half asleep, "you're Hanschen."

"And…" Hanschen waited apprehensively, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Ernst's chest.

Ernst squeezed Hanschen's hand tight, "And I love you."

A sigh of relief. "Another good day, that's two in a row," Hanschen beamed, and then Ernst felt him tense, "Do you remember why we're here?"

A pause, "Yes."

Yes

He knew it was a year since they'd left Anna's house, today was Ilse's first wedding anniversary. Paper.

Ernst's eyes drifted to the faded poster tacked to the opposite wall, a girl blowing bubbles against the city sky line stared blankly past him.

"Let your troubles float away in Annapolis, Maryland" the tag line read, he wondered vaguely where in the world that was.

Hanschen had gone out to pay some friends who would bring them food and anything else they needed. Ernst had offered to go too,

"No, Ernst, you'll have to walk past you know where, I won't let you take that risk"

"You know you can call it by its name, it's not going to kill me."

He tried to make a joke but Hanschen shook his head, "You just stay here and concentrate on getting better."

And with a quick kiss on his forehead and a furtive glance at the crack in the wall Hanschen was gone. Leaving Ernst alone with the soiled single mattress that they shared, the stack of books that he'd just managed to grab in time: his own illustrated bible, Faust, Hanschen's copy of Othello, and finally a small camping stove that stood in the far corner.

He placed the diary on top of the pile of books and hugged his knees to his chest, there was no window to look out of, maybe he could paint one on? With a forest, a river, maybe a few sleepy cottages-

What was going to happen when the money ran out?

-a vineyard, if he was having a good day-

What if they find us here, then what?

-or perhaps people, lots of painted people –and animals, happy beneath a painted sun.

Maybe he was being melodramatic. It wasn't as if they were bound to be here under lock and key. They could still make short trips out if they were very careful and if nobody saw them. The authorities had been lead to believe they'd left the city by one of Ernst's friends who worked in the civil service. This room on the top floor was more of a cautionary measure; he could leave whenever he wanted. Another secret to add to the endless list of secrets that tugged and pulled them in every direction like invisible silver threads. Ernst remembered the day Hanschen had started to build the room, six months ago, he flung his slim form down onto the mattress, it had not been one of his good days.

"Hanschen?" The blonde boy was covered in dust, with his head and shoulders stuck halfway through the plaster board of the wall.

"Yes! I knew it! I knew there was something behind here!"

"Hanschen?" Ernst had cut himself shaving, the blood oozed down the side of his stubbly cheek, "Hanschen I've hurt my face and it's all red and slippery and I went to find Anna to help but she wasn't there."

Hanschen extracted himself with difficulty from the hole in the wall, brushing bits of paint from thick hair, which stuck up in all the right places. "Ernst come on, you can do it yourself remember? There are plasters in the bathroom."

Ernst looked hesitant.

Hanschen held his gaze, "do it for me?"

Ernst thought about this for a while, fingering the sleeve of his shirt, "Ok."

He went and retrieved the plaster from the medicine cabinet, managing to place it over the cut in the right place. He sat watching as Hanschen continued to hammer through the wall.

"Hanschen what are you doing? Anna's going to be angry."

Hanschen pulled himself up onto the sofa, he stared at Ernst intently, we don't live with Anna anymore remember?

Ernst shook his head, there was silence as Hanschen took his hand, lightly stroking his thumb over Ernst's fingers.

"What are you building?"

For a second the faintest flicker of fear stirred behind Hanschen's eyes but the ever mischievous glint soon returned. "This is a secret place, just for me and you." He had continued to fashion a removable panel from the piece of wood, and Ernst continued to watch.

"I don't like secrets."

Everything went fuzzy after that, his memory was improving, but slowly, it wasn't easy-

The hidden panel clicked, jerking Ernst out of his day dream, he froze against the wall, heart pounding.

"Hanschen?" he hissed.

No reply, Ernst felt panic take over, no one else was supposed to know about this room, no one else was supposed to know how to get in.

"Hanschen?" he hissed urgently, but the door continued to edge open, his call remained unanswered.

"Ernst?" He caught his breath, a female voice, who was it?

"Anna?" he gasped.

A young woman in a flimsy rose coloured dress hurriedly pushed the panel closed behind her. Her messy brown hair was just caught in a bun at the nape of her neck. She carried a basket in her left hand, she looked so different-

"Oh God Ernst, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. I've done something terrible…"