We're so close to the end! I can almost taste it!
Disclaimer: Own nothing.
When Donny finally came back to consciousness again, he immediately was afraid that he had suffered some form of brain damage. He simply had to be hallucinating right then, because when he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, he was in a place that he had been before but had never planned on going back to – was he in that damned veterinarian office they'd dragged Von Hammersmark to just last night? Donny frowned in confusion, wondering how in the hell he had gotten there, when –
Klara!
Donny sat up quickly in alarm as he remembered that he still needed to find Klara, then immediately regretted the move when searing pain shot out from the top of his skull. He cursed under his breath and brought a hand up to his head, cringing when he felt the dried, caked up blood in his hair. It was only then that the other pains started to register – a throb in his elbow, harsh pain resonating from his ribs, numerous scrapes and bruises on his body. The blast had certainly done a number on him, but he wouldn't dare complain; Donny knew very well that he could have been much worse off right then.
"Hey, hey, take it easy, Donowitz." Hirschberg's voice suddenly sounded behind him. Donny started to turn to face him, but his fellow Basterd was already coming to stand near him. "You're pretty banged up. Try not to move around a lot." He instructed him, placing a restraining hand on his shoulder.
"Where's Klara?" Donny asked, ignoring Hirschberg's words – he didn't give a good damn about himself right then, he wanted to know where she was and if she was alright.
"Klara?" Hirschberg asked uncertainly, his eyebrows furrowing together. "I have no idea where she is. Should I?"
"Didn't ya see her leave the theater?" Donny asked incredulously, his eyes flashing with indignation. How could Hirschberg have missed her? Shouldn't he have seen her leave?
Hirschberg suddenly looked a bit wary, obviously trying to think of something to say that wouldn't further provoke the wrath of his comrade. "We got to the rendezvous a little later then expected, so she may have left before we got there." He admitted, shifting on his feet a bit. When Donny threw his hands up in annoyance (cursing when the move brought on a sharp pain in his shoulder), Hirschberg quickly went on to defend himself. "There was security everywhere!" He protested. "Check-points, extra guards – in case ya forget, fuckin' Hitler was in town. It took a while before we found a way in that wasn't chocked full of krauts."
Donny glared at him for a moment. "Don't say that word around me." He commanded, no longer a fan of the derogatory name reserved for Klara's countrymen.
He then brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his mind working a mile a minute as he tried to figure out just where the hell he was supposed to go from here. Where was Klara now? What if something had happened to her? Or, he thought with a sinking feeling, what if she had come back into the theater? That thought alone made him feel as though he might be sick – if he knew Klara half as well as he thought he did, then it would not surprise him at all to learn that the stubborn woman had come back into the theater to force him out. She was a convincing liar, she could have easily gotten back in…
He quickly dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. Klara had not gone back into the theater, he was certain of it. Because if she had then she would have most assuredly come to find him, and seeing as she hadn't, then obviously she had gone elsewhere.
Then it hit him like a bolt of lightening. Amidst all the chaos and hysteria of the day's events, not to mention nearly getting himself blown into millions of pieces, Donny had damn near forgotten about his own secret dealings; Remy. He had reached out to the man on a fool's hope, wholly expecting that his note to the Frenchman wouldn't be received before it was too late but still praying with all his might that luck might finally be on his side for a change – before he'd left for Nadine he'd journeyed to the familiar, dingy bar and left a simple note for Remy. There may be something big happening this weekend, something that might put a mutual friend at risk. I may need your help. I'll leave word again soon – BJ.
It had certainly been a risk to reach out to him, but was also something that needed to be done. And thankfully, in the end, the risk had not been made in vain (as he had feared to be the case). Donny had travelled back to the bar for a second time, before going to say his last goodbye's to Klara the night before the premiere, and waiting for him on top of the cash register had been a response from Remy. I am at your service – apparently Remy was willing to work with the Basterds, but only if it was to save one of his comrades.
"We gotta go." Donny said urgently, remembering his instructions for Remy – if the man had followed the plan and gotten Klara out of Paris, then Klara should be on her way to the American military base further north…at least, that was assuming that the directions Donny had left for him – directions to the theater, to Klara's house, and to the base – had been easy to follow and that the man hadn't gotten lost. "We gotta get back to base."
But when Donny got to his feet, he cringed in pain and swayed on the spot, feeling like he may drop at any minute. Hirschberg placed another steadying hand on his arm. "You sure? You're lookin' pretty rough, Donowitz." He countered unsurely, eyeing him with obvious skepticism.
"We're going." Donny reiterated, fighting down the pain in his body and glaring at the younger soldier in front of him. "Now, Shitberg." He growled before heading for the door.
"Yes, sir." Hirschberg said hastily before hurrying after him.
Klara had absolutely no idea where they were or for how long they had been travelling. The first part of the drive had been spent crying (sobbing, more like) until she had eventually wept all of the energy out of her body and had fallen asleep for a while. She'd been harshly woken by the movement of the truck and had been awake now for about an hour, though she had said hardly anything and had kept her eyes locked on the flapping coverings concealing them from the outside world. Utivich and Aldo had tried to speak to her (Utivich had even tried to offer consoling words) but thus far Klara just couldn't find it in herself to respond to them. She felt numb, she felt empty. She just felt…nothing now that she knew Donny was dead.
"How much longer you think?" Utivich asked with a heavy sigh, his voice breaking through her thoughts.
Aldo sat with his hands cuffed behind his back and his legs crossed at the ankles, the expression on his face blank and unreadable. "Can't be long now." He answered slowly, his eyes also taking in the way the coverings of the truck flapped with the wind before he turned yet another look on her. "How ya doin', Bathurst?" He asked for about the tenth time.
Klara sucked in a slow breath and shook her head – the man she loved was dead and it was likely that both she and her unborn child would soon suffer the same fate. "How do you think?" She asked in a dull voice, the tone in no way properly expressing the anguish she felt inside.
She saw Utivich and Aldo share a look out of the corner of her eye but chose not to comment on it, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth instead when a cold gust of wind swept through the truck. She shivered for a moment, amazed she could even feel the cold, or anything, right then. "I'd give ya my jacket." Aldo told her lamely. "If my hands weren't cuffed, anyways…"
"Thanks." Klara said, though there wasn't much sincerity behind it – Aldo didn't comment on her lack of gratitude.
That was when the voices of the three men in the front of the truck started to filter back into the cargo area again. They were so muffled, however, that she couldn't understand them. "I wonder what – " Utivich started to say.
He stopped himself short in the next moment and Klara had to brace herself as the truck came to a quick halt, making the three of them look to each other with similar expressions of caution. The roar of the engine cut out, the momentary silence that follow feeling eerie and ominous, before they heard the distinct sounds of vehicle doors being opened and closed. There was the crunch of approaching feet on the ground outside before the back of the truck was opened again, blinding them all with the early morning light.
It was Hermann. "Come." He instructed bluntly – Aldo and Utivich both got up cooperatively and made their way towards Hermann but Klara lingered behind, uncertain if the German was addressing her as well. "You too, Bathurst." He added in clipped, impatient German.
Klara got to her feet and shakily made her way towards the men. She placed a hand on Aldo's shoulder when he raised it as best as he could, silently telling her to use him for balance as she stepped down from the truck, before Hermann began herding them away like they were cattle. It wasn't until they had finally rounded the truck that she spotted her brother and Landa loitering nearby – they were having a hushed conversation as the group approached but quickly finished it up before Klara could catch any part of it.
"I think this spot should do nicely, do you not agree?" Landa asked as he motioned around to the patch of forest they were in, his question directed solely at Aldo.
"I s'pose so." Aldo agreed, regarding the area around them with disinterest.
Landa flashed Aldo a grin before shifting his attention towards Klara. "Forgive the inconvenience for I know we have business to attend to elsewhere," He began saying, his eyes never leaving Klara – a feeling of dread began to sink into her very bones. "But before I surrender and relinquish the power I have worked so hard to obtain, there is a pressing matter that must be handled right this moment." Then he spared Hermann a brief glance. "Hermann." He commanded calmly.
Klara watched helplessly as Hermann pulled his handgun from its holster and aimed it at Aldo and Utivich warningly, his stare locked solely on the two Basterds. "Do not move even an inch." He warned.
"Hey, this wasn't part'a the deal!" Aldo stated furiously as he turned a fiery glare on Landa.
"Do not worry, this has nothing to do with you." Landa countered with a dismissive wave of his hand. "This only involves Fraulein Bathurst."
Now it was Aldo and Utivich who could only watch helplessly as Landa advanced on Klara, the smile on his face never budging an inch. Klara tried to pull together any last, lingering scraps of courage so that she could square her shoulder and face him with her chin held high, but found that there was far too much sadness and despair within to do so. She only watched in silence as Landa approached until he stood only a foot away from her.
"I was greatly saddened to hear of your…" He let out a long sigh, the wicked grin on his face finally fading some. "…extracurricular activities." He finally finished for dramatic effect. "I had so many plans for you, Klara, such a wonderful future mapped out for the both of us. And then...this." Landa continued, his last words holding more bite to them. "Never did I think these words would leave my mouth, but you disgust me."
He fell silent then, obviously waiting to hear a response from her, and Klara somehow managed to force on a weak smile. "I am sorry to disappoint." She told him unfeelingly. When she chanced a look at Kurt, she could see that he had his hand on his pistol – fear prickled along her spine as she began to wonder her final moments had finally approached.
"Are you?' Landa questioned skeptically. "Would you have changed your actions if given a second chance?"
Klara thought about everything that had happened in the past year, from meeting Shoshanna to harboring the families, from being with Donny to the unborn child in her belly who remained blissfully unaware of how much danger he or she was currently in. Though she was suffering the dearest of consequences now for her actions, it didn't change the fact that she had stood up to the Nazi regime, that she had saved lives, or that she had fallen in love with an incredible man (even if their time together had been short-lived). Klara knew her answer to Landa's question without having to think twice about it.
"Never." She answered resolutely.
Landa sighed and glanced back at Kurt for a moment before focusing his attention on her again. He then straightened up and squared his shoulders, the expression on his face all business now as his demeanor became much more serious. "You have been harboring enemies of the state, have you not Fraulein Bathurst?" He asked in a professional tone.
Klara sucked in a steadying breath. "You know I have."
"Say it." Landa growled, a malicious gleam entering his eye.
Klara was silent for a moment, then, "Yes." She confirmed softly.
Landa nodded, the spiteful aura around him seeming to grow more and more with each passing second. "Normally this is where I might offer you a deal, Fraulein Bathurst – your freedom in exchange for the fugitives." He informed her. "But seeing as the fugitives you have helped are all safely out of Europe by now, I am afraid that leaves us in quite a predicament. I cannot hope to arrest you, seeing as I will soon be under the charge of these fine gentlemen." He continued, waving towards Aldo and Utivich. The two Basterds were watching the scene unfold in obvious alarm. "Yet I cannot hand you to the Germans either, since I have no proof of your treason. As you see, we have few options laid before us."
"What do you intend to do then?" Klara asked before she could stop the words from slipping out.
Landa smiled at her again, sucked in a deep breath, then released it slowly. "Ensure that you will pay for your crimes while I am still able to do so." He stated bluntly.
With that being said he turned and walked away, leaving Klara to stare after his retreating back with growing apprehension. He didn't come to a halt again until he was by Kurt's side. The older German then patted his partner twice on the shoulder and nodded his head. Apparently that was some sort of signal between the two of them – her eyes turned to her brother and they widened as he strode towards her determinedly, his hand never leaving his gun. When he pulled the pistol from its holster, Aldo finally decided to speak up.
"Whoa, whoa." Aldo interjected, watching as Kurt continued to advance on Klara. "The lady don't have'ta die – " He began to protest.
"Forgive me, Lieutenant Raines, but I am afraid you may be mistaken." Landa retorted in an eerily chipper tone, his hands clasped together behind his back as he shot a look in Aldo's direction. "Klara Bathurst, quite sadly, perished in last night's explosion with her lover, Sergeant Donny Donowitz." He went on to say, making the blood in Klara's veins turn to ice. "A romantic tragedy actually, as she went racing back into the theater to try and save her lover's life. A sad – but beautiful – ending."
Kurt had come to a halt in front of her now and, despite the protests of Utivich and Aldo, raised his gun and pointed it directly at her forehead. Gone now was the brother she had grown up with and once loved, gone was any trace of empathy within him. "Do you have any last words, traitor?" Kurt asked in low, malicious sounding German.
It was impossible not to tremble with fear and she had to close her eyes for a moment to collect herself – this was it. She was about to die by her brother's hand. And, if the story they had conjured was convincing enough, he would never pay the penalty for it. Klara took a moment to mentally plead with God for forgiveness, apologizing over and over again for not being able to protect the life of her child better, before finally opening her eyes to meet her brother's hard stare. Klara sucked in another steadying breath, holding back tears all the while.
"I regret nothing that has happened – not the families, not Donny," Kurt's grasp on his gun tightened at her words, "None of it." She admitted. "But know that when you pull that trigger, it is not only me that you kill, brother…but also your unborn niece or nephew."
Her revelation made him freeze where he stood. In fact, the only part of him that moved were his eyes – they darted down to her belly in disbelief as it registered in his head that he was on the verge of murdering his pregnant sister. For a moment he seemed at a loss. Then, as he hesitated and some of his hard resolve seemed to crumble, she could have sworn that she saw his gun lower just the tiniest bit. Her eyes had deceived her though, because in the next moment a dangerous scowl worked its way onto his face and he cocked back the trigger, his eyes blazing with fury.
"You dare to – " He began to say before his words abruptly cut off.
Many things happened in the next moment.
Aldo, though still cuffed and unable to move his torso much, had apparently decided to take action instead of standing idly by – he suddenly lunged at Hermann, taking advantage of the man's distraction in light of Klara's announcement. He head-butted Hermann, knocked the gun out of his hand after delivering a swift knee into his stomach, and somehow managed to send the German flying to the ground before literally jumping on top of him to keep the man down.
At the same time, a loud BANG had echoed through the trees, the startling noise sending birds flying in every which direction. As warm blood spattered on her dress and face Klara was positive that she had just been shot…but though she waited and waited, no pain ever came. She opened her eyes again (not even knowing when she had closed them to begin with) and gaped in shock when she realized that Kurt was lying dead on the ground – there was a bullet wound on his left temple and it took only one more second for her to understand that the blood now decorating her clothes and skin wasn't hers, but his.
"What is – ?" Landa began to demand in a rage, but his question was cut short when Utivich followed Aldo's suit and head-butted him into silence. The German had been so caught up in his anger that he hadn't realized Utivich was even advancing on him until it was too late.
Aldo delivered a swift kick to Hermann's side once he was on his feet again, then glanced back at Utivich. "Nice work." He compliment before shifting his focus to Klara. "You alright, Bathurst?"
It took a few very long minutes, but eventually Klara finally began to realize that she wasn't about to be killed. Landa and Hermann had been overpowered by Aldo and Utivich, while Kurt was lying dead at her feet thanks to an unknown savior – she was going to live. Her and Donny's child was going to live. "I…I believe so." She finally managed to answer through heavy pants for air.
"Good – think you can uncuff us, then?"
Klara nodded jerkily and stumbled her way towards Utivich and Hermann, reaching down to find the cuff keys without really even paying attention to what she was doing. Once Utivich was free he cuffed Hermann, took the keys from her, and then hurried over to release Aldo. Klara glanced at Hermann, who looked rather frightened now that the Basterds had the upper-hand, then made the mistake of looking down at her brother again. She immediately had to dart away as the bile rose in her throat, hurrying towards the privacy of a nearby tree so she could empty the contents of her stomach.
"She'll be alright." She distantly heard Aldo say as she wiped her mouth and tried to push the image of her dead brother's face out of her mind. "Now who the hell done shot this fella?" Aldo went on to ask – when she straightened up again and slowly rejoined them (making sure not to look at Kurt's body), he was standing with his hands on his hips and glaring suspiciously at the trees.
They didn't have to wait very long for the answer to his question – about fifteen seconds later, as Utivich cuffed Landa and shoved him roughly back to the ground, the distinct sound of an approaching car could be heard. The entire group paused in whatever they were doing and turned to see who this newcomer was, watching as the car came to a halt just behind the truck. The vehicle was unfamiliar to Klara, but the man that stepped out of it was not – she was caught completely by surprise when a tall man with sandy colored hair and a rifle dangling from his shoulder came into sight.
"Remy?" Klara asked in astonishment, unable to think of anything else to say in her state of shock.
"Well, ain't this a surprise…" Aldo said slowly, his eyebrows raised so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. "How in the hell did'ja avoid bein' seen all this time?"
"I have my talents…" Remy answered vaguely as he came to stand by her side. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes searching hers for a moment. "Are you hurt?" He asked in a serious tone.
"N-no." She managed out, still wholly confused as to how he could be there right then. When he sighed in relief, she was finally able to put a voice to the glaring question in her mind. "How did you know we would be here?" Klara asked in bemusement.
"For that you may thank Donny." Remy answered, taking a moment to glance down at Kurt's body – she stiffened at the mention of Donny and felt a horrible throb of pain near the region of her heart. "He contacted me before the premiere, though it was by pure chance that I even received the note at all." He went on to reveal. "He asked me to ensure you left Paris safely if things went awry…which evidently, they have. I have been following you since the moment you left the theater."
"And ya didn't think'ta intervene at any point?" Aldo questioned incredulously. "Why didn't ya step in earlier?"
"The streets were littered with German soldiers." Remy retorted in a clipped tone, his eyes flashing at Aldo – it was obvious that he didn't like the American questioning his judgment calls. "I wanted to intervene earlier but knew that if I made even a small mistake that it could mean Klara's life. I was not about to take that risk."
Silence fell over the group as Aldo and Remy stared one another down, each daring the other one to argue any further. The two men only broke their staring contest when Klara placed a hand on Remy's arm, causing him to look down at her. "Thank you for saving mine and my child's life." She told him gently to try and ease the tension.
Remy nodded once in return, flashing a reassuring smile. They both refocused on Aldo, however, when he spoke up again. "Alright then…" He heaved, looking obviously unimpressed but choosing not to comment any further on the subject. "Where ya headed?"
"I had instructions to take her to the American military base." Remy answered. "Since we are nearly there already, I assume that is where you are going as well?"
"You assume correct." Aldo confirmed with a nod. He shifted his gaze to her, watching her with an unreadable expression. "You'll never get in'ta that base without us, though." He added, the look on his face melting away as he waved them off dismissively. "We got'a bit more business'ta take care of. You two head fer the car, we'll be on our way shortly." He instructed.
Remy and Klara both nodded their understanding before the Frenchman placed a hand on her back and gently led her in the direction of the vehicles. They walked away in silence, both blocking out the conversation now taking place between Aldo, Landa, and Utivich as they ambled along. Once they reached the car Remy set down his gun, shrugged off his jacket, then placed it around her shoulders. Klara smiled gratefully before sighing and leaning heavily against the car, her previous exhaustion and despair catching up to her again now that she was out of immediate danger.
"Donny…" She started to ask, having to swallow past a lump in her throat to even say his name. "Did you see him?"
Remy frowned. "I saw him enter the theater, yes."
"But not leave it?" Klara questioned, her gaze locking on his searchingly.
He heaved before running a hand through his hair. "I was not there when the explosion happened." He told her regretfully. "So I do not know whether he lived or not. I am sorry."
Klara shook her head dismissively. "There is no need for apology." She told him, trying valiantly not to dissolve into tears but still unable to keep her voice from cracking.
Now, Klara had never known Remy to be a particularly nurturing man. But when he spotted her struggling to hold herself together, he took her by surprise as he pulled her into a consoling embrace. Klara finally accepted the comforting gesture, clinging to him desperately as the dam broke and she cried out her anguish – he had never seen her this way before but Remy did not seem bothered with the fact that she was wailing into his chest, merely held her and patted her back comfortingly.
"I am sorry." He said again. "I am so sorry for your loss."
They stood there hugging one another until Klara's sobs finally diminished. When she pulled away from Remy to wipe her eyes, she had to clear her throat before speaking again. "Thank you." She said simply. "You are a good friend."
Remy nodded, offering a tiny smile, then – BANG.
Klara and Remy both jumped and then frowned at the resonating echo of a gunshot. They shared a look, both clearly wondering what had happened, until Remy reached over to snatch up his gun again. He had just gotten it into his grasp, however, when Utivich and Aldo reappeared – they were haphazardly dragging Landa, who was bleeding profusely from his forehead, by his elbows. Klara wasn't entirely sure what they had done to him while she had just been grieving, but if the stories about the Basterds were true, she'd bet her last dollar that Aldo had just gauged a swastika into the German's head.
"It's just us." Aldo said once he saw that Remy was on alert, only sparing them a brief glance as the two Basterds continued carrying Landa towards the back of the cargo truck.
"What happened?" Remy demanded to know, his eyebrows furrowing together.
"Hermann is, uh…outta commission." Aldo answered before he and Utivich hauled Landa into the back of the truck and then secured him inside. Utivich then hurried towards the driver's side to get the truck ready to go. "Klara? A word?" Aldo then asked.
Klara nodded and stepped away from Remy, holding her comrade's jacket tighter around her shoulders as she made her way towards the American. He placed a surprisingly gentle hand on her back once she was close enough for him to do so and led her a little further away, clearly wanting to have this conversation in private. Klara chose not to speak first, waiting for whatever he had to say first instead.
"Look, I'm not good at all this…" Aldo started, rubbing the back of his neck as he seemed to search for the right words. "But I wanted'ta say I'm sorry 'bout what happened with Donowitz. It ain't easy losin' someone ya love and…I'm just sorry."
Klara offered a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Aldo. And…thank you for earlier, for trying to help me." She added, remembering the way he'd attacked Hermann.
He merely nodded in response, silence falling between them for a moment or two. "He loved ya very much, Klara." Aldo said, taking her a bit by surprise. "Don't ever forget that."
She had to press her lips together to keep down the emotion threatening to rise in her again. "I won't."
Aldo watched her for another minute or two before awkwardly patting her shoulder. "C'mon then. Let's clear out." He instructed before turning without another word and heading for the passenger side of the cargo truck.
Klara hesitated for a moment, her eyes turning towards the patch of trees that had nearly been her final resting place, then let out a long sigh as she remembered that it was now Kurt's. Truth be told, there was a small part of her that felt sad for her brother – in spite of everything, he had been family. But the finite portion of her being that felt sympathy towards her brother was not large enough to leave a lasting feeling, and as she turned her back on the place now harboring her brother's body, she knew that she would never think of Kurt again after this day.
As she got in the car with Remy and relaxed in the passenger seat, she had to close her eyes and let out a long sigh – she was alive, her child was alive, and there would be no more living in fear. For once there was a world of endless opportunity laid before her. And though it pained her beyond words to know that she would never see him again, Klara owed it to her beloved Donny to take full advantage of the new life waiting for her.
"If these Americans do not leave me be," Klara growled as she plopped down onto the bench, now occupying the space next to Remy, "I swear I will restart this blasted war myself."
"That is rather rash of you." Remy retorted with a smirk – he was smoking a cigarette, drinking from his flask, and was acting like their being on an American military base was the most common thing in the world. Klara huffed at his response and crossed her arms over her chest, making him frown at her. "They are only making sure you are well." Remy reminded her in a more serious tone.
"And I have told them I am not injured." Klara responded snippily, having reached the end of her already limited patience. She had just survived numerous horrific ordeals, was exhausted, and had lost the man she loved – could she not catch even a moment of peace? Had she not earned that much?
Remy reached into his pocket and produced a box of cigarettes. "Want one?" He asked knowingly. She glanced at the cigarette contemplatively before reaching over to snatch one up. Remy lit it for her with one of his matches as she brought it to her lips, then nodded to her encouragingly as she finally relaxed some. "I will go speak with the nurses." Remy offered once she seemed a bit calmer. "Tell them you should be left alone for now."
Klara was grateful for his offer, but still cast him a knowing look. "You only wish to charm the nurses." She accused dryly, inhaling some of the tobacco smoke before releasing it slowly.
Remy looked at her in mock-offense. "I am appalled you would say such a thing." He countered with a frown.
Klara couldn't help it, she had to smirk at him. "You are not, because it is the truth."
Remy thought about it for a moment then shrugged his shoulders. "You may be right..." He flicked away his now finished cigarette and got to his feet. "Will you be fine by yourself?" He asked with a hint of concern on his face.
"Yes." She reassured him. "Do not worry, I will not stray."
After that was said Remy nodded and headed for the nurse's station, ignoring the numerous curious looks shot in his direction as he went. Klara watched him retreat until she could no longer see him then turned her eyes elsewhere, scanning the nearby area. There was a platoon stretching and preparing to depart directly in front of her, while plenty of others marched here or there and numerous cars zoomed around on the grounds – the place felt like an ant-pile that had been stepped on and all the soldiers hurrying past were the busy ants trying to repair their fallen home. A number of eyes turned to her, obviously wondering what this fancily-dressed stranger was doing on an American military base, but (thankfully) none stopped to ask questions.
Now that it was later in the morning, the grey haze of dawn had faded and given way to a brighter, sunnier day. Klara thought it almost cruel though that the first bit of nice weather that she had seen in a long while would fall on this day – why now, when she would have preferred a more gloomy atmosphere to accompany her dismal thoughts, was the sun choosing to make its appearance? Even it couldn't allow her to wallow in her grief?
Klara took a long drag on the cigarette and closed her eyes, bringing a hand up to knead away the ache building in her forehead.
Though she had been poked, prodded, and questioned endlessly since arriving, it was positively impossible not to think about Donny right then. So much so that she felt as though if she opened her eyes that she would be able to see him standing right before her, despite the fact that he was dead. Even now, as his face pushed its way to the forefront of her mind, she could see him so clearly…Thick, dark, wavy hair. Warm, brown eyes flanked by impossibly long lashes. Full, intoxicating lips constantly surrounded by days worth of dark stubble. The ache in her chest (that would probably never go away) grew even more and she had to press her lips together in an attempt to keep from crying – Klara didn't want to cry anymore, it hurt too much to cry now. And no matter how vainly she hoped, as it was, there were not enough tears within her that could bring Donny back to life.
" – of the United States Army, God-damnit! Let me pass!"
The shout initially pulled her from her thoughts because the voice was so eerily familiar, but kept her attention because it had sparked her curiosity. Was she really hearing that voice? And where was it coming from?
But when her eyes darted hopefully around the busy military base, it was impossible to decipher where the hollering was coming from. Klara felt her hope deflate again and laughed bitterly to herself, pressing her fingers into her eyes and not really caring if the move would smear her make-up – she was hearing Donny now, as well? Had she actually died back in the forest and this was now her own personal hell? Was she doomed to be plagued with memories and hallucinations of Donny for the rest of her time in the underworld? Was this her punishment for not being able to save her and Donny's child?
But then the argument started to get closer, drawing her once again out of her own head.
" – been looked at by a doctor back in Nadine." A voice interjected, clearly trying to be the voice of reason. Nadine?, Klara wondered to herself. Donny was in Nadine…"Just, let 'im through for now? I'll make sure he get's medical attention."
"No. He needs to go to the medical wing now." Another voice argued back. "You escort him there before I have someone else drag him there."
"I'd like'ta see ya try, ya fuckin' dipshit!"
Klara was off of the bench and on her feet in the blink of an eye, her cigarette falling to the pavement without her even noticing – that voice was not in her head. And the dangerous growl behind the threat mixed with the colorful obscenities was so familiar to her that it almost hurt to even acknowledge it. But…she had been certain she would never hear that voice again. How was she hearing it now? Was this real? The platoon that had preparing to depart finally began moving away, clearing out the formerly occupied patch of grass that had been in front of her. Once they were gone, she was finally able to see where the commotion was coming from.
And as soon as she spotted him, it felt like time itself had stopped.
He was still wearing his suit, though the jacket was gone and the rest of the outfit was ripped, blackened, and bloody. His hair was wild and askew, bouncing around on his head as he argued with another soldier indignantly. There were numerous bandages (as well as scrapes and bruises) all over his neck, arms, and face, but none of that mattered to her much right then – somehow, by working of a higher being, Donny was alive. And he was standing not thirty feet away from her.
She was in such a state of shock that she didn't even realize she was walking towards him; Klara's feet had moved on their own accord. She had no idea how he had survived the blast, or how he had even gotten to this military base, but decided that she could hear that story later. The man that she loved was still alive – all she wanted right then was to be in his arms again, even if just to ensure that he was actually real and not a figment of her imagination.
Hirschberg was the first one to see her and his eyes went wide. "Donny." He said, nudging his comrade's side with his elbow. The larger man ignored the attempt to get his attention and continued to rant and rave at the other soldier. "Donny!"
"What?!" Donny finally demanded, glaring down at Hirschberg.
When Hirschberg pointed to Klara, it seemed as though everything happened in slow-motion. Donny turned his head to see what Hirschberg was trying to show him and she thought her heart would launch itself clear out of her chest as his eyes locked on hers. And though Klara wanted to call out to him, she couldn't form the words – she could only bring a hand up to cover her mouth as tears of complete and utter joy started to well up in her eyes. Donny let out a noticeable sigh of relief and didn't hesitate to begin hurrying towards her, ignoring the protests of the soldier trying to send him to the medical station. He closed the space between them with large, purposeful strides, then wasted no time to scoop her up into his arms once she was close enough.
"Thank God." Donny murmured in her hair, his arms so tight around her that it nearly cut off her air supply. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He asked, pulling back to look into her eyes.
Klara shook her head 'no', then slowly raised a hand up to his face – she was almost afraid that if she touched him too much that he would disappear again. "You…you are…"
"Not dead." Donny finished for her.
"But…how?" She asked, not understanding.
Donny sucked in a deep breath then let it out with a heavy sigh, shaking his head with a small smile. "Thank Omar." He said simply.
Klara couldn't resist any longer. In the next moment she wrapped her hands into his hair and pulled his lips down for a desperate kiss; Donny returned the gesture with equal fervor, keeping her close with a vice grip on her. Klara didn't care that they were in the middle of an army base, nor did she really mind the cat-calls that sounded in the air from observing soldiers. The only thing, only person, that mattered to her was Sergeant Donny Donowitz – one of the brave soldiers that had brought down Hitler himself and ended the war, the father of the baby growing inside of her, and the love of her life. By some miracle, and against all odds, they had both managed to survive this mess. And the future with him that had once been only a hopeful dream, that had felt like an impossible feat, had suddenly and unexpectedly become a reality.
"I love you." Klara told him earnestly, pulling away from his lips just far enough to be able to do so. "I love you so much, Donny Donowitz. I cannot live without you."
Donny smirked and brushed some of her hair away from her face. "Good…'cause I don't plan on lettin' ya go anytime soon, Bathurst."
Then he was kissing her again. And for the first time in a long time, it felt as though everything was right in the world again.
BAAAAAAH! Can you guys BELIEVE THIS? It's OVER!
Next chapter is the epilogue!