Hello Everyone! I know it's been a while, and I apologize for that. Things have been a little crazy for me (medical stuff, school). I don't plan on abandoning this story as long as people are still interested, so just bear with me. Since it's been a while, this chapter is pretty long. Enjoy!
Hanschen waltzed down the dirt road that would eventually bring him to Ernst's house. It had been two weeks since he had seen him and, as much as he tried to deny it, it had been agony being away for so long. His father had taken him to Berlin, to his law firm there. Hanschen had spent two dreadful weeks in a stuffy and pristine office watching grown argue and such. But, he was home now and that was what mattered. He was home a day early, and planned on surprising Ernst with his usual entrance through his bedroom window. He expected to find him unpacking, for Ernst had been away too, but just for a week. He had gone on some senior-children's-church-group-retreat-thing with Otto. Normally, he would have been displeased with the fact that Ernst was spending a small tent with anyone else, but it was Otto, after all…
Hanschen scolded himself for even thinking about the possibility of jealousy…No, his feelings for Ernst were no more than mere physical infatuation…all for his own benefit… However, the words in his head sounded very unconvincing. He attempted to brush the unwanted thoughts and feelings aside as he approached the small white house that was the Robel residence. He walked over to the oak tree and climbed up the few branches that allowed him to enter through the window of Ernst's bedroom. Hanschen had been expecting a greeting involving squealing and kissing, but nothing of the sort came. In fact the room was empty, and not looking at all as it usually did.
Canvases and paints covered the floor and clothes were strewn about, instead of being folded in their drawers. The house seemed unnaturally quiet too. There was no Thea jabbering on, or singing, no noises from the kitchen. Something was wrong. Hanschen glanced around the broken room one more time, and climbed back out through the window. He paced the yard. He knew Ernst had returned…he had seen Otto in the town square with his mother…but where was Ernst? If someone had hurt him…His thoughts were a jumbled mess that added to the beating lump in his throat. Thinking hard about where to look first, he soon found himself swiftly walking East, toward Priapia.
As much as he hated to admit it to himself, finding Ernst, and making sure he was alright was far worth the walk to Priapia, and a meeting with Ilse. The walk took him nearly half of an hour, and by the time he finally arrived, he was exhausted, not only from walking a bit too fast, but also from his racing thoughts.
The streets of Priapia were crowded with scruffy looking artists, and people strangely dressed posing in front of easels. He came across a market and decided it best to ask if anyone knew the residence of Ilse.
"Pardon, M'am would you happen to know where I might find Ilse Nuemann?" He approached a middle-aged women selling radishes.
"That strange modeling girl? Ya, the edge of town. A wood cabin number 18. It's the only thing directly outside the market."
"Ah… yes, well thank you." We couldn't get away fast enough, by the looks of it; the women had intentions of trying to get him to buy her radishes which had a few maggots dangling from the roots. Hanschen soon shook off the thought of maggot infested radishes and darted across town with only Ernst on his mind.
Five minutes later he arrived, out of breath, in front of a log cabin with the number 18 plastered on the had overgrown flowers and weeds and looked mildly unkempt, and still charming at the same time.
He knocked on the door three times and jumped when it opened quite suddenly. A young, dark man of around 25 opened the door.
"Excuse me sir, I'm looking for Miss Ilse Neuman. Is this her current place of residence?"
The man grumbled something in Russian about his house becoming a circus and walked back inside. Hanschen waited for a few moments, unsure of what to do, until Ilse came out looking flustered and extremely tired.
"Yes?"
"I'm looking for Ernst. Is he here?"
She didn't answer him; instead she grabbed his arm and dragged him down the steps to the side of the house.
"Is he here?" Hanschen was growing impatient, and he didn't want to deal with Ilse and her strange ways.
"Yes, Hanschen. He's here."
"Is he alright?"
"….yes."
"I need to see him."
"Hanschen, I don't know if he's in the mood…"
"What the hell does that mean? Look, I just…I need to be sure he's alright…"
"Hanschen, please, just listen…" her eyes were glassy, that is to say more so than usual, and it became obvious for the first time that she had been crying. "You know Wendla, and Melchior, don't you?"
"Of course…" he relaxed his tone a bit, although he never liked her much, he didn't want to deal with her crying.
"You know the rumors? About the two of them, together?"
Everyone knew the rumors about them…except maybe Ernst, unless someone had told him of course. "Yes…I don't see what this has to do with—"
"Wendla Bergman died, a week ago. I'm sure you can come up with the true cause of death on your own. Ernst returned from his retreat yesterday…he only just found out. He was close to her. Like a sister…"
Hanschen said nothing. All he could think of was the weeks following the death of Moritz, where Ernst hadn't spoken to anyone, where the day after the funeral he came to class with his eyes red and puffy. Hanschen wasn't one to pity anyone, but he grew sentimental at the thought of Ilse losing the two of her best friends, and Melchior (someone he had never been particularly fond of) losing his best friend and his love. If he ever lost Ernst…but no, it wasn't love…that was very different…
"I won't keep you, if you wish to see him…but he's been lying down for some time. He's devastated. But I suppose we all are…"
"Oh, yes. I would appreciate that." He snapped back to the conversation, again attempting to turn of the nagging voice in his head. He turned and headed back toward the house.
"Hanschen?" he stopped and turned to face the red haired figure before him.
"…yes?"
"He deserves to be happy. He's lost some of the people he cared about most. Don't- don't hurt him. Please. You know he loves you, don't take that for granted…because one day…you could wake up. It could be gone."
"I would never hurt him." he hadn't thought, just spoken. And he wasn't quite sure whether he regretted it or not. Ilse smiled at him, which made him uncomfortable, and he made his way inside the cabin.
The first person he saw was Melchior. He was sitting at a small table writing. He looked up at Hanschen and nodded in greeting. "First door on your left," he said before returned to his journal.
He walked down the tiny hallway and knocked on the door before slowly opening it and shutting it behind him. Ernst lay on the bed facing the window. He was either asleep, or not willing to see who had entered the room. Hanschen stood in the doorway. He wasn't familiar with "comforting" and the only thing he could think of to do was to walk over to the bed and gently place his jacket around the boys' shoulders. Ernst turned to face him, and quickly attempted to wipe the remaining tears out of his eyes as he sat up, pulling the jacket tightly around him.
"W-what are you d-doing here?"
"I've decided to run away from home and model for aspiring artists. Really, Ernst why do you think?" he soon realized that it was a poor time to make comedic comments when Ernst's lip trembled, and new tears began to seep from his brown eyes. Hanschen quickly sat down on the bed and pulled Ernst close, sitting against the headboard and wrapping his arms around him.
"She's g-gone. She was barely fifteen…she was just starting out, b-beginning to feel and live her life…a-and after Moritz…" Hanschen kissed him on the forehead as Ernst sobbed into his shoulder. His heart beat fast, and he had the urge to never let him go. No, he thought. Don't think that… but the feeling in his heart was beginning to cloud his mind, and soon, all those thoughts vanished. They were replaced by the desire to comfort Ernst, to hold him and protect him no matter what. He needs me now.
"I know darling, I'm sorry…it's not fair." Hanschen felt Ernst's hand find his, and give it a light squeeze. It was incredible, the amount of tears coming from the boys' eyes, Hanschen left sleeve was practically soaked. He scolded himself for not minding.
"How could her mother d-do that? Without t-telling her? She didn't even h-have a choice. It wasn't her fault! She d-didn't know… she just wanted to love…a-and…I didn't get to say goodbye…she's g-gone."
"Ernst, darling, she's not truly gone. She's up there, with Moritz, I'm sure she's watching down on you. And Melchior, and Ilse, and Thea." What was he saying?
"You d-don't b-believe that…"
"I never said I don't believe it, and besides it's what you believe that matters. Do you think she deserves an eternity of happiness?" Ernst sniffed and nodded. "Then, you mustn't be so upset darling…heaven's supposed to be a wonderful place isn't it?"
"Yes, of course, b-but she not there with Melchior. She's there, and h-he's here!"
Hanschen didn't quite know what to say to that, he held him tighter and kissed him again. "Darling, if they really loved each other, then it's not the end…Melchior will always remember her… and he'll see her again, one day…" he was running out of things to say, not to mention the fact that he had a very slight idea what heaven was according to the bible…which he hadn't so much as flipped through.
Ernst's sobs became I little softer, and it seemed as though he wanted to rest. Hanschen wasn't sure if that was because he was more comforted or perhaps just tired and dehydrated. Either way, he enjoyed the boy's arms wrapped around him, and his breath on his neck. He looked down at him. His eyes were closed, and there were wet streaks lining his cheeks. Ernst still had his jacket wrapped around him tightly. Hanschen could feel himself smiling. He could feel himself losing sense again. Maybe…Maybe, he was denying something he shouldn't. Maybe it wasn't just lust…what he had been telling himself for so long…why was he so keen to deny it anyway? Hanschen's heart and mind began their battle again, and he didn't quite hear what Ernst said when he finally shifted and his eyelids fluttered open.
"Sorry, darling, what?"
"Nothing…"
"Come now Ernst…tell me, its al—"
"If I was gone tomorrow, what would do? What would you feel?"
Don't answer that. "I- well, I- don't know…" that was almost the truth.
Ernst wiped away a few remaining tears and sat up, Hanschen felt his warmth leave his body.
"Ilse said Melchi almost d-died…like Moritz. He ran from the reformatory. He was supposed to meet her in the graveyard. But he found her grave instead. Before he could…w-well, I guess he had a sort of spiritual awakening… he hasn't said much." Ernst smiled sadly.
A spiritual awakening? That didn't sound like Melchior Gabor…but perhaps if he had, truly loved her…
Their eyes met, and Ernst very gently placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him. Hanschen didn't know why. He could feel himself melt against the headboard. When Ernst pulled away, he was crying again.
"Ernst, what is it now darling?" he spoke very softly.
"Ilse told me, she said that Melchi and Wendla looked at each other the way we do…I don't know if it's true, because I think maybe our love only goes one way… I'm sorry…my thoughts are jumbled…I just, I feel as though everyone I love is leaving…it only makes sense that you would too…It seems like what they had was so real…and us…how can we last if what they had was much better and stronger? How do we deserve to go on when they were cut short?"
"Who says it was stronger?" Hanschen was slipping past the point of no return. Those brown eyes pierced him…he just had to say it…
"It was mutual, everyone says so…"
"And our love isn't mutual?" slipping…
"No, I don't think so…" He shook his head and allowed the tears to cover his face.
"I think you're wrong." Slipping…
"No—Hanschen, don—"
"Yes. You're wrong." slipping…
"P-please…"
"Shh darling" Hanschen pulled him closer and began kissing him. "Darling, what would happen if I told you, I loved you… right now?
"I would c-cry…"
"Well, since you're already crying I don't see what I have to lose." Ernst made a sound like a squeak, but allowed Hanschen to brush a tear from his cheek and stare directly into his eyes.
Hanschen thought his heart might explode. He took a deep breath, and didn't drop his gaze.
"Ernst, I'm sorry for your loss. Wendla didn't deserve to go so soon. I'm sorry for Melchior too…he didn't deserve to lose her. Darling, form what you've told me about Wendla, I think she would be a happy knowing that she left this earth with a little more love in it. I think she would want you to feel what she felt. Ernst, I love you." Hanschen immediately felt a large amount of weight leave him. That…wasn't so bad…
There was a moment of silence between them. Tears continued to roll down Ernst's face, and Hanschen thought he might cry too, if Ernst didn't say something or do something soon. But then, he smiled and Hanschen smiled back as the boy took his hand and kissed him. It was different somehow, like Ernst wasn't holding back, like these three words were magic he needed to hear. Hanschen realized that he was still in a shock and wasn't kissing to his usual standards. He decided to fix that. He kissed Ernst with so much force that the boy ended up somehow beneath him. Neither of them seemed to mind. Hanschen kept kissing him, holding him by the waist and feeling Ernst's hands placed gently at the back of his neck. He soon realized that the voice he usually heard, that told him to get a grip, and to turn everything off seemed to have committed suicide in the face of all lost hope. Hanschen wasn't complaining. All he wanted to think about was Ernst.
After a few more moments intertwined with each other, they pulled apart. Ernst was smiling. God it was good to see him smile…Hanschen rolled over on his back pulling Ernst to him as the boy laid his head on his chest. Hanschen felt small fingers slide over his palm and intertwine themselves with his own. The boys lay there for a while. Greif and sadness still filled the air as well as the much needed 'I love yous' and they both seemed drained. Too tired to talk, but there really wasn't any need as far as either of them could tell.
It must have been nearly two o'clock when there was a knock at the door. The person entering didn't wait for a response, after knocking twice the handle turned. Hanschen cursed loudly and they attempted to scramble out of each others' arms before anyone saw them.
Melchior entered the room carrying a tray of food. Thanks a lot Gabor…maybe wait for a response next time before barging in…they had managed to leap out of each others' arms in time and it was possible the scene could have looked non platonic if it hadn't been for Hanschen's jacket that was still draped around Ernst's shoulders. Shit.
"Ilse thought you both might want something to eat…here…" Melchior placed the tray on the bed and stood there for a moment, glancing between them. It wasn't a judgmental look but it made Hanschen uncomfortable none-the-less. After a moment of glancing at the tear marks on Ernst's face, Melchior gave a small smile and gave the boy a comforting clap on the back. He nodded to Hanschen (who unsure how to respond gave a jerk of his head in return,) and headed for the door.
"Melchior?" Ernst barely whispered.
"Yes Ernst?"
"You'll be alright, won't you?"
Melchior smiled. He looked at Ernst and Hanschen, then at the floor, and then to the ceiling. "Yeah…Ernst, I'll be fine." It was strange; there was something different, somehow.
Ernst seemed content with the answer, but before Melchior could slip out he spoke again. "Oh… Melchior?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you…for the food." Melchior smiled and nodded and left closing the door behind him.
Ernst began splitting the bread and cheese as Hanschen placed his head in his hands and mumbled; "He knows!"
"Yes…I suppose he must. But Hanschen, it's Melchior. I hardly think he'd tell anyone, and he didn't seem shocked or upset by it."
"Darling, Ilse knows too! Every person who finds out grants us a bigger chance of spending an afternoon at the gallows…I don't trust him."
Ernst scooted closer and kissed his cheek. "He knows how precious love is. I don't think he ever take it away from us. And we've always been friends. As long as we're careful, we'll be rope free. And you don't have to trust Melchior, or Ilse, but try and trust me."
Hanschen smiled. It was always he who did the comforting and now that the roles were reversed, he felt strangely calmed by the hand on his shoulder.
The boys finished eating and decided it best to get going due to the fact that Ernst had been gone all day and Hanschen still needed to unpack. They stood up and wrapped their arms around each other leaning in for a last kiss before entering back into the world of secrecy. When they pulled apart it looked as if Ernst would cry again.
"Ernst- wha-"
"I'm fine, just happy, and devastated too I suppose…it's strange to think I'll be in the kitchen with her again, trying to teach Thea cook…" he gave a shaky laugh, "…or talk with her and Ilse on the hill…I'm really going to miss her…but I think she would be happy to know that I still have you."
"I think you're right. And, one day, you might see her again." Hanschen kissed his forehead.
"Yes, I know I will."
"Ready?"
"Ready." The boy nodded. Hanschen had an urge to hold his hand, and he did so before opening the door and walking out into the hallway. If they knew anyway, no use in hiding it.
Goodbyes were brief. Ilse hugged Ernst tight and promised to visit him soon. She made no snide comments to Hanschen, in fact when she saw him holding her friend's hand she gave him a teasing but genuine smile. Melchior put his writing down and gave Ernst a short hug. Hanschen's eyes narrowed. Melchior then turned to him, and shook his hand before opening the door for them. The boys dropped hands as they walked out into the twilit village. It was almost as if Hanschen could still feel Ernst's hand in his and he smiled to himself.
The walk home was less than an hour and Hanschen listened as Ernst listed off the memories he had shared with Wendla. When at last they parted Hanschen grabbed the boys hand, gave it a firm squeeze which was returned almost immediately. Ernst walked up the hill to his house and Hanschen walked on. He thought truly for perhaps the first time of Wendla Bergman, he thought of Melchior and what had happened between them. He thought about free spirited Ilse and even Moritz who usually only crossed his mind as being pathetic. Strange as it was, no cynical thoughts seemed to creep into his mind. For once, it seemed, he was ok with being just another human. Because being "just another human" meant feeling things. And Hanschen was tired, as he imaged most of the world was of feeling numb. It was nice to feel even if it was pain. It was nice to feel awake and inspired—to have a new sort of confidence even he didn't know. The last thing that crept into his mind before he entered his house was; thank you, Ernst, for the awakening.
Thanks for reading! I'll try and update asap. Reviews are appreciated :]
By the way, I don't own Spring Awakening.
