HANS' REALIZATION

*mild trigger warning, explicitly mentioned suicide*

For the remainder of the day, Hans felt strange. Even though to his knowledge, the day had been relatively fruitful, he felt like a jigsaw puzzle missing an important piece. It was an unidentifiable feeling.

Determined to get to the bottom of this instead of allowing himself to fall into a depressed slump, he thought back to his day. No, nothing amiss… except that conversation with Monica…

That couldn't be it. He'd only known the girl for two days, and had made a certified fool of himself in half the time period. There was no way this had anything to do with her… did it? No, that was impossible. He never felt anything for any of the other neighbourhood or orphanage girls, back when he let hormones rule his judgement, and he'd gone a lot further with most of them than he had with Monica. Too far, with one of them at least...

He thought back to the time when he'd been at an orphanage, when he'd had the most contact with people. Teenagers constantly whined and moaned about anything, from parents not understanding them to having to study for an exam - not that Hans could relate to either, as his parents were long out of the picture and high school was no longer an option for him, despite him being an exceptional student. But surely he would've remembered if someone came to him, complaining of feeling particularly miserable. Even that one boy who was the most popular kid in the orphanage, who had shocked everybody after being found lying on his bed with his wrists slit, he had never complained of anything like that. Oh, and some of the girls wailed up a storm when it came to unrequited crushes and relationship break-ups - but Hans knew they were just seeking attention. What relationship was worth that much fuss… or was that plausible?

Hans smacked himself in the forehead. Yet, he couldn't get over the possibility that maybe he missed Monica. Just a little bit.

*Scene change*

Maybe it was because the Volksfrei had run out of assignments, and he simply had too much free time. Maybe he wanted to relive his days as a journalist, temporary as they were. Maybe - and much as Hans hated to think it, it was the most likely one - it was because the train of thought he'd been following earlier had now planted itself firmly in his head and wouldn't let go.

In any case, Hans began walking towards the town library - where he had last seen Monica.

Several minutes later…

Hans stood awkwardly in the doorway, suddenly regretting this bad idea. What was the likelihood that she would be here? And even though the shapeless, hooded jumper and the way he kept his face bent should have kept him safe from recognition, what if someone spotted him? He was safe as a nameless, faceless mook working for the fearsome Herr Fuchs, but not so much as the new leader of the Volksfrei. Thankfully, Heinrich successfully blew up every building they took political hostages in, destroying the footage of his crimes in the process. However, there was still a chance the police might recognise him from the many times they'd attempted (and failed) to foil his plots.

"Hans?"

Hans spun around. There she was, Monica Roberts, standing right behind him with a confused expression on her face.

"Monica," he breathed, his stomach fluttering.

"Hans, I -"
"I'm sorry." He surprised himself with those words. Hans Gruber was never sorry. Although he, contrary to the stereotypical terrorist, was initially prone to mild bouts of remorse, he never felt 'sorrow' per say for his actions. It was an odd realization.

"I should never have walked out on you," he continued. "That was really shitty of me, when all you were trying to do was help."

Monica surprised him by wrapping her arms tightly around him, until he could feel her warm breath on his neck and her breasts pressed up against him. No more words were spoken - none were needed. They spent a good ten minutes in each other's embrace, in a comfortable silence.

Then, Monica stood on tiptoe and leaned in. Hans responded by closing what little distance there was between their faces, as their lips pressed together for a kiss.