Disclaimer: I do not own the Characters of Stan Or Kyle those belong to Comedy Central. I make no profit off this fic. It is soley for entertainment purposes.
Warning: This fic deals with the very sensitive issue of the Holocaust. While I have tried to stick as close to the facts as possible not everything will be 100 percent accurate. This is a fictional story. This story does not express the opions of anybody and any similarities to persons live or dead are completely accidental.
Summary: Stan Marsh is a young gay man imprisoned in a concentration camp during ww2. Kyle Broflovski is a young new arrival of the Jewish faith. Sparks fly from first sight but conditions are far from ideal. Could a relationship really flourish in such adverse conditions? Will Stan risk his life to save someone who seems almost certain to die?
Love In a Death Camp
I try to wipe the ashes from my shoes as I walk from the graves I have been digging since sunup. I hate ash, it smells like burnt flesh and human suffering ,something you never get used to.
I walk by a guard and he gives me a dirty look. No surprise their Then again everyone gives me dirty looks.
It amazes me the prejudice that can take place even among prisoners at a concentration camp. Iv been treated lower than dirt by guard and prisoner alike since the day I got here. My pink triangle a badge of shame is even worse than the golden star of the Jew . My crime loving another man. I get the worst jobs and get kicked around the most. Although I suppose it isn't all bad its made me stronger in a way. It also allows me to distance myself from the other prisoners which I learned long ago that one must do to survive. Being called all sorts of names and getting kicked around allows me not to get to emotional when someone I know eventually ends up in one of my holes. Its rule number one on a long list of survival rules I have created. Never get close to anyone. Being close to someone in hear is a weakness and the Nazis will exploit any weakness they can. I feel a small victory every time one of the guards tosses someone I know into one of my holes and just waits their expecting me to break down or cry or something. When I don't the look of discontent is just priceless.
I stop and lean up against one of the outward facing walls of a barrack. A few hundred yards away is the train depot where the poor bastards come in every Tuesday night. For some it will be the last of the outside world they'll ever see. Sometimes I like to watch. Try to pick out the survivors and pick out which one will die tonight. It keeps me occupied and keeps my mind of my own situation. I try not think about how completely demented and sick it is. But I guess everyone here is a little sick, lost a little bit of their humanity just to survive. Im not the only one. Sometimes others join me. Sometimes there are even bets of who will last the longest, who's likely to die tonight, in the next week, month. We bet any little scraps we can get our hands on. I always pay up when I loose but sometimes I have trouble collecting myself when I win, again the pink triangle. Just one of the facts of life I guess.
I hear footsteps and jump up just incase. This area is strictly off limits and any prisoner caught back here would be severely punished. I tense up and am extremely relieved when its just Fritz another prisoner. He smiles at takes a seat next to me. Out of all the prisoners Fritz probably gives me the least crap about my situation. He's okay still im able to keep my distance emotionally. We sit their not saying much and at 9:00 PM sharp the train pulls into the station. The Nazis may be murderous maniacs but when it comes to time they are efficient up to the last minute. We watch as the soldiers open the doors and people begin flooding out. Nothing really special, some older people and children, scared mothers and fathers none of them survivable material. In all likeliness thell all be dead within a week. I look at Fritz's face and the boredom that resonates their tell's me he's thinking the same thing. Nothing special among this lot. Im about to get up and go salvage what little sleep I can before I have to be up for grave duty in the morning when one boy catches my attention.
The resemblance is unbelievable. He can't be more than 20 years old. About average height and very thin with curly red hair and a rounded face. But it's the suddle features that I can just make out from here and something else I can't quite put my finger on. Fear, the look of complete and udder fear. And right there against the barrack wall I have a flashback of my boyfriend.
Its early spring just after 9:00 pm as I walk in the door. Jacob greets me the smell of some divine soup on him. How he manages to feed us on such scraps ill never know. Its been hard for us ever since my parents found out and cut my ties to the family business. Im not nearly talented enoph to pull in enoph money without the type of connections my father can provide. We've been getting by on less than the bear minimum and it kills me not being able to provide for him. He's had to do a few "odd jobs" every once in a while to make up the difference. I asked him about that once but he refused to talk about it. The more I think about it the more I realize I don't want to know. He sees the look on my face and jumps up to hug me. I look into those big green eyes and they say it all. He loves me and he doesn't care about the money. I squeeze him tighter. He yelps making me laugh which brings a smile to his face.
We eat the soup he has prepared as he talks about his day. Trading items in the market to get the little bit of meat. Talking with the other families who are struggling like us. He doesn't mention my job or ask about my day as he used to and I'm glad. He brings up that another Jewish family got picked up this week and I can see the look of fear in his eyes. I take his hand on the table and hold it tight. I remind him that our friends are loyal and both our parents claim us as dead trying to quell his fears. He moves on but I can tell he is still tense. I know there is only one thing that can calm his fear down. As he is doing the dinner dishes I lay a blanket down on the floor and undress preparing for something special.
Its almost 3 Am when I hear the sound of a door being busted in upstairs. At first I think its nothing. There are several Jewish families hiding out in this building as well. I assume the soldiers have found one of them out. I turn to Jacob naked and in my arms. His curly red hair a mess. I run my fingers through his thick curls and smile .I love his hair. As im running my fingers through his curls a soldier kicks in the door. Jacob wakes in a fright a throw my arm over him protectively. The soldiers separate us and slam me to the ground. I can hear the sound of Jacobs sobs as he pleads for our lives insisting we've done nothing wrong. At this point I can see its pointless to deny it. They have all the evidence they need to kill us on the spot if they desire to. My only hope at this point is that we end up in a work camp where we at least have a chance of surviving. The soldiers kick us around for a while taking advantage of our naked state. I hear Jacobs sobs getting louder and louder and I really wish someone would just shoot me already and get it over with. Suddenly I am yanked up by my wrist cuffs and tuned to face my boyfriend. He naked as on his knees sobbing. His head is down and his back is facing the sergeant . A soldier grabs my head and forces me to watch as the sergeant draws his pistol puts a bullet in Jacob's skull.
I jolt back to reality as Fritz is laughing at me pointing out the boy that im staring at.
"You gotta be kidding me Marsh. That scared wimp won't last a week. Ill put all my bread scraps on it!"
He's right of course but as I stare at him I get this raw urge to help him. Its something I desperately need. I have to reprimand myself, remind myself where I am and that befriending anyone let alone someone who is surely to die is detrimental to my own survival.
Within a moment's notice I am on my feet ready to leave. Fritz gives me a look that I just shrug off. I have to get out of here. If I stare at that kid with the curly red hair one more second I might do something irrational and stupid. Like decide to help him. What I need is a couple hours shuteye and a good long work detail to knock some sense into me.
I try to settle into my bunk and salvage what little sleep I have left but whenever I close my eyes I see a mix of the kid from the train and my dead boyfriend. The resemblance really is amazing, the features, the curly red hair, the look of fear. If I hadn't seen him die myself I would actually think it was him. "But its not him!" I remind myself. Its not him and if I want to keep surviving its best I just mind my own business.