Disclaimer: Spring Awakening is not mine, nor is any song, motion picture, etc. that may be alluded to herein.

A/N: Well, here it is, folks. Hanschen again. Song is Where Do My Bluebird Fly by Tallest Man on Earth. The lyrics might be inaccurate here and there; I couldn't really find a 100% accurate version of the lyrics, partially because the version on the CD and the versions online have slight variations in the lyrics department. However, the general message is still the same.

-x-

Oh, well I know you stroke the setup, baby, of all the leaves up in the ground

&

The seats of the train hurt your back and there are too many people for such a small compartment. You close your eyes and lean your forehead against the cool window, but it does little to comfort you as the glass rattles stoically against your skull.

You remind yourself again that this is all for him.

Yet you can't help but think about how you could be asleep in your own bed right now, with a woman at your side.

Why did he have to come and change everything?

&

And I know our song is all but healthy as I see dry leaves fallin' down, oh

&

After all, you're both older now. A long time has gone by since the last time you spoke, and time has a way of changing things. Maybe he's already found somebody new, although you doubt it. Ernst would cling to the things he cherished until the end of time. Or at least, that's how it used to be. Who knew how the boy has changed in the years since your disappearance? Perhaps he's found a new joy and has long since relinquished the past.

&

With all this fever in my mind

I could drown in your kerosene eyes, oh

&

You remember finding him kneeling on the grass at the foot of Moritz's grave, and exactly how his voice had cracked when he asked you if Moritz had gone to hell, after all - asked you, as though you were some divine messenger of the gods. You remember how you saw the glistening tear tracks on his cheeks and how your heart had melted, but then you knew that he could be yours. Alas, you also knew that you had to be careful, lest you become his in return.

"I don't know," you said. "He might be. Or he might be in heaven. Or he might still be here." The wind picked up, and you pictured Moritz dancing through the field of graves.

"Still here?"

"Maybe."

"You can... stay?"

"Not according to the Bible," you jab. "But I don't put too much stock in the Bible."

Ernst didn't respond. The seconds passed. You turned to leave, and then, a plead - "Hanschen..."

Ever the indirect one, but it was all either of you needed. You took a seat beside him and noticed how pale he looked in the midmorning sun.

"Friday at dusk, can you meet me at the gates to the old vineyard?"

The train begins to pull to a stop. You put your head in your hands. Even if he has relinquished the past, you haven't.

You're the only one getting off at this stop, this nowhere-town, and you leave with no luggage to collect.

&

You're just a riddle in the sky

Oh, where do my bluebird fly?

&

You would have recognized this town if you had seen it in a photo. Too many times you'd sat at the top of this hill outside of the train station and fantasized about leaving this place and never looking back. But now there is something changed about it, something a photograph couldn't capture. It's the same small German town where everyone knows everyone else, the same half-moon still hangs silent and statuesque, but now a sense of tragedy presses down upon the crumbling steeple and dusty forest.

There is usually fog before the sun rises, and today is no different. The pure expanse of the vapor combined with the low-hanging, dark clouds makes everything appear frozen, and you wonder briefly if the town was abandoned years ago. Then, to your relief, at the bottom of the hill you see a dark figure moving through the mist toward the church.

Unmistakably, it's Ernst. Strangely, this calms you. You notice with amusement that although he's grown taller, he still moves awkwardly, with the same lanky frame.

Instead of entering the building as you had expected, his path twists and heads to the back of the church, where the graveyard is. Time really does change things. You can't say you're surprised about it, this fascination with death he's apparently developed. Ever since Moritz's suicide, you could tell that he was different - maybe not much, but there was still that little bit. And surely at least one of his parents' hearts had given out by now.

&

And when you find the voice and gears of sunset

We'll hear that high and lonesome sound, oh

&

You trot down the hill and call out to him. "Ernst!" You see his shadow quicken its pace and disappear around the side of the building.

&

And I will question every wind

If they gone through the glow of your eyes, oh

&

You enter the gate and there is Moritz's headstone. You hastily whisper to him, "I'll come back before I go, I have something important to do - you understand." And you know that he does - maybe even more than you do.

&

You're just a riddle in the sky

Oh, where do my bluebird fly?

I say where do my bluebird fly?

&

"Ernst!"

The dark valley graveyard is filled to the brim with early-morning fog, and it doesn't take long before you're turned around.

"Please, where are you?"

&

Oh, well I know you stroke your feathers, baby

Upon the ghosts along my trail

&

"Hanschen!" And it can't be from more than a yard behind you that that voice sings out your name, that glorious, blissful voice you haven't heard in so many years. You whip around with the biggest smile you've worn in centuries.

&

And I know your lie was sold and buried

Before I knew it was for sale, oh

&

And you see just the stone.

&

With all this fever in my mind

I should aim for your kerosene eyes, oh

You're just a target in the sky

&

You read, "Here rests Ernst Robel, 1876-1902. Matthew 20:16"

&

I say, where do my bluebird fly?

I say, where do my bluebird fly?

-x-

A/N: You know you want to click the button and type lots of words. I wouldn't write if it weren't for your feedback. x