This chapter is dedicated to JennaLynne. Though she doesn't read Colorblind, I was only able to finish this chapter today because of the inspiration her Carlisle/Esme story gave to me. So, thank you, Jenna, you're brilliant. And talking about inspiration, I strongly recommend you guys to watch Saints or Soldiers. It's one of the best WWII movies I've seen (and I've seen a lot), it got me tearing up to no end.

Also, I wanted to thank you all for reading this, you guys really make my life happier (especially you, Nix, you're the best beta reader I could ever want). And as such, you have all right to give your opinion about this fic. So if you don't like something in particular or have an idea of what could happen, please, by all means, tell me. I really want this to go right (and also I have no idea to where take the story from here lol). Now…

Looney4MyTunes3: You do know how much I love you, don't you? You always manage to get a huge smile out of my face every time you leave a review. Anyway, I went to watch Twilight a few days ago and watched the trailer of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. It looks absolutely terrific and I just need to watch it. Can't wait for it to release over here.

Lvrfashion: Thank you for the kind words. I also can't wait to write what'll happen throughout those days. I hope you keep on enjoying the story!

Tweetiebird86: You can rant, really lol I'm truly glad you sorted it out and honored by your words. Hopefully I won't let you down!

GirlinTheCafe: Wow, I really want to meet your grandma now. I have a granddad who fought in the war, but he's too traumatized by it =( besides he lives far away from me. But anyway, please, let's have those conversations! Internet knows no boundaries lol and I seriously intend to let Lily interrupt some more =D


CHAPTER III

Road to Redemption

It was hardly the trip of a lifetime, but surely, it was worth a lifetime in the end.

Peyton hugged her knees tightly as the train left the station in Munich, praying for God - or whoever was up there - to look after her, if she deserved such thing as a life; and if she didn't, she prayed for the Nazi to find her soon, and end it all with a simple bullet in the middle of her forehead. That was probably a good way to go, and sometimes she secretly wished for that. Clean, fast, no pain, no time to watch her whole life pass in front of her eyes. She wouldn't have many good memories to hold on to anyway.

Or would she?

She was still fighting against the Nazi idea of the Jew people, and it was a hard battle to fight. In those days when the sunlight shone through the rainy clouds, she smiled and dreamt of a better world, a place where she could live happily with her father, where there were no men in uniform, or soldiers in the streets, there was no Hitler and the war had never lingered its wings in the face of the proud Germany. However, those days didn't last too long, and then she remembered who she truly was. A Jew, hiding in basements and running scared of every shadow, afraid to breathe too deep, because someone could hear it and give her away.

The train speeded, and she let go of her legs, breathing deep, though as silently as she could, trying to feel the calming weight of the fake identity papers Brooke had handled her just before she left. They were perfectly normal to anyone that wanted to check, but Peyton knew better, she knew they weren't real and the guilty look in her eyes would've been enough to any soldier that came across her way.

And then it happened.

She was so frightened by his sight, that when Peyton realized, the soldier was sat by her seat, looking straight ahead, his SS uniform impeccable. She was still trembling when he turned his head towards her and – amazingly – smiled. Only then she noticed how different he was from the other soldiers. He was a tiny, skinny boy and should be no older than 18. His dark hair was all scattered on the top of his head and his smile was true, as much as his bright eyes.

"Guten Morgen" now he had spoken, she could feel his voice was also as sweet as him entirely, and held an easiness she hardly saw in any SS member. Still, he was the enemy, and she wasn't about to open up so easily. It was most likely a trap.

"Hallo"she replied dryly, and turned her head away from him, suddenly finding something very interesting to look at through the window half covered in snow.

"How are you?" the stranger didn't seem to step back an inch, and when Peyton looked back at him the smile was still there, untouchable.

"Cold" she replied instinctively, and then bit her tongue mentally. She shouldn't tell things like those to people like him, or else they'd know she was weak, and she had to be just as strong as she could pretend to be. However, he smiled further, not scanning her eyes after a signal of a lie or anything of the sorts, and quickly took his big gray coat off, handling it to her.

"Take the coat" he kept on smiling, and Peyton thought he'd soon get a cramp. "My uniform is warm enough."

"I don't need it."

"Seriously, take it. You can get a cold."

Apparently unwillingly, she took the coat and threw it on her back, closing the sleeves around her chest to keep it warm. Then, in an act of tremendous courage – looking through her eyes – she smiled at him, who found a way to make his own smile bigger. It was strange, but she was getting calmer by the second, as if he had something different from any other person, as if he had the ability to proof with a look that his heart was really good, despite the death mask he was wearing as a uniform. Taking his black hat off, he lowered his head in a salute towards Peyton.

"My name is McFadden. Marvin McFadden" he approached and she felt a shiver running down her spine instinctively. "People call me Mouth."

"And why is that?" she took a risk.

"Who knows." He replied with another smile, and she got her answer. "But I got used already."

"I'm Peyton." She found important that he didn't know her surname, for some reason, as if that could protect her against any act of evilness he could felt compelled to do. "Just Peyton."

"Nice to meet you, Just Peyton." he continued as if they were childhood friends. "Are you enjoying the trip?"

"It's not bad. I've been in worst places."

"I don't doubt it." He lowered his head once more, and spoke so slow and low that for a second Peyton thought she had got it wrong. "I know who you are."

It was like a thousand rock trucks had landed inside her stomach. Her hands were sweaty and all of a sudden she felt dizzy, like throwing up any second, everything on her sight suddenly blurred. She tried to breathe, but the air seemed hotter and heavier than it used to be, and it just wouldn't get inside her lungs. Her eyes ran from one person to another and to everyone that were near them, but they didn't seem to be listening to anything. Also, no soldier appeared out of nowhere to kill her, nor it seemed they ever would.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She tried, in a last instance, but he knew much better.

"It's ok, I'm not a decoy. I'm here to help you."

"I don't even know you!"

"But I know you. Or, well, I know each one of you, the stories are almost all the same. Please, let me explain."

And she did. Marvin – Mouth – had come from a poor family in Munich. His father was a soldier who had killed himself due the First World War traumas, and his mother – Julia – used to sell homemade bread in the streets to hold the house and her only child. Marvin grew up watching his mother work from sunset to dawn to bring money home, and he swore, as a kid, that he'd do whatever it took to give her a better life. That was when they met Henryk Polanski. He was a widower watchmaker who lived across the street, and he had fallen madly in love with Marvin's mother. They could not get married, but Henryk helped them through tough times, mostly with the money he got from his small store.

One day, when Marvin was playing in a football field three blocks away from his house, the SS appeared. Henryk was a Jew and, in an attempt to save him, Julia tried in vain to talk with the captain of the patrol. There was no mercy. They killed Julia, Henryk and set both houses on fire. Marvin was fourteen when it happened. After that, he became sort of a homeless, wandering around, sometimes working, sometimes stealing; but he swore revenge against the SS troops, all of them. To get that, he volunteered, as soon as they opened up for new members, and he became one of them, to ruin them from the inside. Since then he had been helping those who tried to run away from Munich through the train station. He always knew when someone was running, because they had the same eyes he used to have before. It was impossible to be mistaken with anything else.

Peyton lowered her head when he finished his story, her eyes tearing up slightly. She had always thought of her as the victim of everything, without stopping to think about others who had lived through equal or even worst problems than she ever had.

"I'm sorry" she whispered, not really finding anything else to say.

"It's ok, I'm fine now."

"Don't you think you're risking too much? Helping… Us." She thought a little before say the word.

"There aren't you or us, Peyton. There are just humans, I don't really see much difference in there."

"I can't believe you exist."

They exchanged a smile and Peyton prayed to a God she was starting to believe again for Mouth. For him to get his revenge and, most of all, to get peace. If there was such thing as angels, she had just met one.

"Well, here I am. And as long as I'm here, there will hardly be another soldier to check on your documents. Why don't you enjoy the trip and tell me your story?"

For a moment she thought of letting that go. It wasn't like she enjoyed remembering everything that happened, nor did she like the perspective of her life afterwards, despite being sure about Lucas's intentions. Still, she talked, and for those few minutes she shared her life with him, Peyton felt – for the first time in months – her heart slowing down. In the end, he also lowered his head and sighed deeply, too regretful to look up, to ashamed of his own country.

"I'm so sorry, Peyton. I really am."

"It's ok." She smiled, that broken smile of hers that was starting to become a copyrighted brand. And the next few words hided a truth none of them was quite ready to admit. "You can't save everyone, Mouth."

"Do you trust this Lucas?" he ran away from her statement as fast as he could.

"I have to." She shrugged. "But truth be told, it can't get any worse."

"You'll find your peace." He nodded, a glimpse of oldness in his eyes he shouldn't have already. "We all will. Someday."


Lucas leaned on the window to look at the streets for the seventh time in less than two hours. It was snowing that night, amazingly, and Lily was playing in the front yard with Jamie and a few other kids from the neighborhood. Snow was something that had always fascinated Lucas to no end. Like every flake was different from the other, and the magic it had, and the fact he could always stay playing on it for hours and hours and he'd never get a cold. Lily, apparently, had taken that talent from him.

"Will we talk about this?" Lindsey's voice echoed behind his back and Lucas jumped slightly in fear. "Or do you want me to play the blind wife that doesn't know anything about her husband's illegal affairs?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about you helping all those Jews around the country. Do you really think I don't know all about it, Lucas? Now what, will the Geheime Staatspolizei visit us tonight?"

"Only if your father sends them."

It was always like that when the subject was politic. Lucas was as stubborn and idealistic as Lindsey was reserved and careful. Of course, she wouldn't give her husband away, but she couldn't understand his endless efforts to save something that wasn't supposed to be saved. Lindsey wasn't bad; she was just like any other German and truly believed in Hitler's speeches and theories. She wanted a better life for her country, and not just because of her father, but because she believed in the greatness of Germany. Getting rid of those who was on the way was just part of the process.

"I'm sorry." Lucas muttered, finally giving in. He walked slowly towards the couch and waved for her to do the same.

"What's going on, Lucas?" she asked with a bad hidden hint of hurt pride in her voice.

"Brooke found me." She nodded for him to go on his explanation, but he seemed to be struggling with words. "My ex-girlfriend. She needed my help, I said yes."

"Ok… What will you have to do?"

"I already did. There's a Jew… A girl. And she'll hide here."

Lindsey's face had gone pale and it seemed like her blood had vanished to never come back. In a blink of an eye she was up, pointing an accusatory finger at Lucas's nose, and before he could take note, her pale face had gone red, her eyes shining in what could be easily called fury.

"WHAT?! What in God's name do you think you're doing?!"

"Her name is Peyton. Peyton Sawyer." He continued as if he was never interrupt, hoping that a name and a history behind a simple stereotype could melt Lindsey's heart. "Her father was sent to a labor camp and she doesn't have anywhere else to go."

"And now that's MY problem?!" her sharply scream made Lucas blink twice. "What if the police find out?"

"They won't."

"But what if they do? What will happen to me, huh? What will happen to Lily?" noticing the different shine in his eyes, Lindsey continued in what affected him more. "Have you thought about her? Who'll take care of her if you're gone?!"

"I just thought…"

"No, you didn't. If you had, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Now, wait a second!" he stood up, his eyes suddenly certain of his actions. "I know what I'm doing, and I refuse to let people die if I can do something about it. She'll hide here, and that's it. You don't need to help; you don't even need to look at her. She'll stay in the basement, as long as she needs. Then I'll find somewhere else for her to stay. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Truth was she never would.


She was sleeping when the first soldier appeared. Half asleep, half awake. She was used to sleep like that, one eye on a dream, one eye on the real world. Sometimes, when life let her, she pretended the open eye was also living a dream – a nightmare – and she would soon wake up and find herself in her father's calming arms, but that certainly wasn't one of those times. Then the second soldier came and she opened her eyes completely. Peyton nudged Marvin slightly, but he was already awake, eyes glued on the two figures a few foots away.

"Don't move" he whispered under his breath. Peyton didn't answer, but there wouldn't need an order for her to stay as quiet as she could get.

The soldiers turned around and stared right at her.

Her blood froze. Her legs melted.

"Guten Tag" the taller soldier said; his voice cheeky, as they approached.

"Guten Tag" Marvin answered, and he was so calm that Peyton understood just why he was still alive.

"Do you have smoke?" this time the shorter soldier asked, shrugging. "We ran out of cigarettes."

"Oh, of course." Marvin got a smoke box out of his pocket and smiled, handling it to the shorter soldier. Only then Peyton noticed the Totenkopf on the men's hats.

Skull and crossbones.

SS.

"You can keep it." Marvin was still smiling. "I can get another one when we get in Stuttgart."

"And the lady is traveling to so far away without a coat?"

Peyton's throat went as dry as it could get, but Marvin seemed absurdly comfortable with the whole situation.

"She's my cousin. She came home for Christmas, but her mom fell sick and she had to come back in a hurry. I was supposed to leave her at the station, but a disgusting Jew stole her coat back there. I shot the thing down, but I wouldn't let her wear something that had gotten in touch with that." He made a face and the soldiers seemed to buy his lie. In fact, he lied so well that even Peyton was starting to believe. "Since I was off duty during the end of the year, I decided to take her home and visit my aunt."

"Urgh, I'm sorry." The taller soldier said, truthful. "That's why I say, a good Jew is a dead Jew."

"Ya." The other one replied. "We have to go, we were just checking on the train, but with you here there will hardly be a Jew around. Thanks for the smoke."

"Anytime. Heil Hitler."

The three men grinned.

"Heil Hitler."

Peyton was so joyful she felt like she could sing the Deutschlandlied.