A/N: This is a companion fic of sorts to my SPBB fic, The Well and the Lighthouse. You don't have to read that to enjoy this one, but later events might get a little confusing if you don't. Maybe. Anyway, warnings for... you know... the Holocaust. I'm not going to pull punches here.

Prologue

I was working at the hospital on the day the Germans began their invasion. I was not a doctor yet, at least not formally, but I had been working on my residency for nearly a year, and the hospital had become my home away from home. When the bombing of Warsaw began, we all took cover as best we could, but it wasn't to last. We were soon inundated with hundreds of wounded civilians, bleeding and broken. The waiting room was full of people missing limbs, men and women gushing blood all over the floor, mothers screaming as their babies died in their arms, and the bombs continued to fall around us, shaking the building and making the lights flicker. I barely held myself together during my shift. Though some experience with emergency situations was required for all medical students, most of my education had been in pediatrics, so I was completely out of my element, up to my elbows, literally and figuratively, in blood and gore.

It was a great relief when, after nearly 30 straight hours at the hospital, I was sent home, with the understanding that I must return after I'd rested. It was nearly midday when I left the hospital and made my way through the streets of Warsaw. The city was in chaos, people running around trying to find out whatever information they could, looking for lost family members and friends, while soldiers rushed by in full uniform, holding their rifles in their hands. I felt overwhelmed by all the commotion, and was glad it was a short walk to the apartment I shared with my parents and brother.

The situation at home wasn't much better. The moment I walked in the door my mother bombarded me with questions, to which I had no answers. I brushed her off, and went to sulk in the bedroom my brother and I shared, too exhausted from my shift at the hospital to deal with her hysterics.

We knew what an invasion meant for us, of course. If the Germans "annexed" Poland, my family and I would be in great danger. Anti-Semitism had always been a problem for the Jews of Poland, but in Warsaw we were somewhat protected from all that. Sure, we all ran into trouble from time to time, but it was nothing compared to what we'd heard was happening in Germany. At least under the Polish government we still had rights. The same could not be said for Jews living under German law.

I tried to put that out of my mind as I threw myself onto my bed, and I was almost asleep when my brother Ike sneaked into the bedroom. I ignored him, but I felt his eyes upon me as he sat down on my bed, and after a few silent minutes I rolled over to look at him.

"Are you ok?" he asked, looking uncharacteristically serious.

"Yeah," I said, my voice rough with exhaustion, "Are you?"

He shrugged and looked away, staring out of the window with a pensive look upon his face.

"They're talking about sending me away," he said, finally.

"What?" I gasped, sitting up. Ike refused to look at me.

"I'm not... you know... my real parents, they weren't Jewish. I don't look like a Jew. Mom and dad seem to think they can get me some forged papers, and send me across to France, to live with some people they know."

I stared at him silently for a minute, a mixture of emotions rushing through my head. There was anger, to be sure, and from the way Ike was looking at me I'm sure that's what he was afraid of. But I was also concerned for him. We had never really discussed the fact that he was adopted, but I knew there had always been times in which he hadn't really felt like a part of the family. And now he was being sent away, because he looked nothing like us.

"I suppose it wasn't even suggested that I go with you?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Kyle, please," he said, smiling finally, "Have you looked in the mirror? Red hair alone is not enough to make you look like a goy. I mean, have you seen your nose?"

"Alright, Ike," I said, my anger quickly resurfacing.
"And you're scrawny, and you wear glasses, and you're in intellectual. Need I go on? You might as well walk around with a giant Star of David painted on your head. You're practically a walking stereotype."

"Yeah, ok, I get it, I will never be able to pass as anything but Jewish. Ok."

He grinned at me as I glared at him, and I laid back down with a huff. I was surprised when he laid down beside me. We hadn't shared a bed since we were very young, and I watched him curiously as he made himself comfortable next to me, reaching over cautiously to put his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm scared," he said in that very straightforward manner of his. I had always liked his ability to speak what was on his mind, but at times like this it was unnerving, because everyone else was trying to dance around the truth.

"Of what? Being sent away to safety?" I asked, jealously.

He rolled his eyes and patted my head condescendingly.

"Yes, Kyle, of being sent away to safety. Terrifying. No. Traveling to France alone? What if I don't make it through the border? What if the Nazis figure out that my papers are fake, and whoops, there I go, off to some labor camp?"

"You're smart," I said, "I'm sure if you run into trouble you'll be able to get out of it."

"Yeah, but... you know... I'm worried about you, too. And mom and dad. What will happen to you? If it's bad enough that I'm being sent away, then whatever's in store for you guys isn't really something I want you to have to go through."

My heart was racing as he said this, but I had always tried to put on a brave face for my brother.

"We'll be ok," I said as I closed my eyes once more, knowing full well that nothing was going to be ok once Poland surrendered.

I'm sure Ike saw right through my lie, but he patted me on the shoulder, before leaving me to sleep.

He was gone before the week was over.

Warsaw surrendered not too long after that, and we knew our fate, whatever it may be, was sealed.