Dawn
By Monnie
You'll never guess where I am, right now… detention. Weird, huh? Any of you guys who've read my journal know about my "snow-sitting" incident, and now I'm paying the consequences. But, thankfully, the guy running the whole thing doesn't even know me and my tendencies, so I'm all right, and he let me sit by the wall, where there's an electrical outlet. So, you can thank our principal for his lovely contribution to the Holocaust-Preservation Extravaganza.
This chapter goes out to David (dupton), who's nothing but a sweetheart, and a kickass writer. Love you, kiddo. Keep it up. And try out that thing I said you'd be good at, I want to see the results, eh? *insert brow-smiley here* xx
====
Chapter Seven – In Sickness and in Health
"I can't…it hurts too much!"
"You'll have to try!"
"I don't know if I can! I'm so dizzy…"
Monica put her hand on Rachel's forehead. She felt relatively normal. "What's wrong?"
"I – I don't know. I just feel like throwing up." Rachel closed her eyes for a moment, and Monica held her hand tightly. The rest of the cabin was starting to make their beds.
"Rachel, sweetie, I know it hurts," Monica shot a nervous glance towards the door, where footsteps were steadily approaching, "but you have to get up. Isn't your life worth the pain?" Monica immediately wanted to take those words back.
Sometimes, she herself felt like it wasn't.
"I suppose. Here, help me up."
Monica reached around and grabbed Rachel's other hand, pulling her around enough, so that her feet were touching the floor. She stood up straight, and put her hand over her eyes.
"Oy, it's so hard to see." Her other hand flew to her stomach, and she fell to her knees.
"Rachel, what is it?!"
"My stomach, oh my stomach…it's cramping up…" Rachel fell to the floor, and curled herself up in a ball.
The footsteps were getting closer.
"Rachel, I'll help you in a minute, right now, you HAVE to get up!" Monica was nearly in tears, she straightened Rachel's bed quickly, and wrapped her arms around the crying girl's tiny body, and together, they got her to her feet. Rachel groaned and sniffled, but put her hands by her sides, willing her tears not to fall anymore. Three officers swept through the block, checking for anything and everything. Three people were dragged out by the back of their clothes that morning, and never seen again. One thing ran through Monica's mind.
'What if one of them was me?'
==
Kip Maurer looked around his cabin. It was completely empty, excepting the three beds in it. Sitting down on the one he'd claimed as his, he thought about the deeds he'd done. Was it shameful? Was it evil? Was it even wrong? He didn't know. All he knew was that this was what he was supposed to be doing. This was what he was taught. This was what his father wanted him to do, and this was what he was going to be stuck with until the day he died. Even if it meant that he'd hurt people who never should've been hurt in the first place. Why did he have to, though? Couldn't he just – leave?
No, his father would never approve of that. He'd probably be outcast, or sent to death, even. He had no choice. This was his life now, no matter how many times he'd have to silently cry himself to sleep to know that he was still human. No matter how many people –
No. He pushed it from his mind. He wasn't human. He was Schutzstaffel.
They were Jews. He was German. He was superior. That's what his father always said. He was part of Hitler's Bodyguard, the right hand men to the most powerful man in the world. Everything he did was right.
Wasn't it?
Father always said Hitler was a genius. Kip always nodded and listened to the stories he'd tell about the things that man had done. But sometimes, something would nag at the back of his mind. 'He's a madman', that something said. 'He's a madman, and he's only doing this for himself'. But, that something was always left to vanish with his other thoughts. If he disagreed with father again, it meant his life.
He pulled the faded photograph from his pocket, and unfolded it. That woman was so beautiful. She looked like a porcelain doll, with long eyelashes, and a pale face. Her eyes were closed. From what he could tell, she might've been nude under the sheets of that small bed, but that didn't matter to him. All he wanted was for her to open her eyes. She looked so familiar…
Would that woman miss her husband?
Kip Maurer bit his tongue, like he always had, when that voice reached his thoughts. He bit his tongue so hard he didn't even feel the pain before he could taste the blood. His eyes grew cold and bitter, and his face showed his anger and hatred towards every conflict he'd had between his head and his heart. His father thought Hitler was a genius. Everything he did was right. It was for the good of the human race.
But, Kip wasn't human. He was Schutzstaffel.
==
He hadn't seen him all day. They'd been working out at the other end of the men's camp, building another barracks. Ever since he went back for that photo, Michael had never crossed Ross' mind. But now, the gunshot he'd heard hours ago suddenly made his stomach twist itself into knots.
==
"Hey Monica?" Rachel whispered, sipping her tea. Monica looked up from her hands.
"Hmm?"
"Um, have you ever had – um – you know…"
Monica raised an eyebrow, as Phoebe looked up in curiosity. "No, Rach, I don't…"
"You're married, right?"
"Yes, I am." Monica chose not to comment any further.
"Did you and – um –"
"Michael."
"Right. Did you and Michael ever have – er – um – I'm so nervous, what's wrong with me?" She chuckled halfheartedly, trying to sort out her emotions.
"Oh, Rach, don't worry." Monica's voice grew soft and maternal. "Are you asking me if Michael and I ever had sex?"
"Yeah."
"Oh yes, we did." She couldn't help the smile that dusted her pale lips as she remembered.
"Did it hurt?"
Phoebe closed her eyes. So THAT'S what it was that she –
"Only the first time. Why?"
Rachel shrugged. "No reason." She paused. "Please tell me what it was like." She smiled genuinely.
Monica laughed. "Well, it's been so long – I almost don't recall."
Phoebe decided to cut in. "Oh, well, could you try? I don't know if I'll ever be able to, myself. I've only ever done it twice." She and Rachel both took a sip of their tea simultaneously, and Monica laughed again.
"I suppose, but – I'm not giving you any details, okay?"
"Oh, all right." Phoebe rolled her eyes, and the three of them leaned in on their elbows.
"Well, have you ever been wrapped up in a warm blanket during the winter?" They nodded. "It's kind of like that. When two people are very much in love, like Michael and I were – like Michael and I ARE – they want to celebrate it by doing the most intimate thing that two people can share. It's truly amazing, more so if you really care about the person – and, sometimes, not always, you'll get to a place where your love is just practically exploding, and you seem to have melted butter running through your veins instead of blood." Monica closed her eyes, the feeling returning somewhat, and she smiled warmly again.
"Wow." Rachel whispered, and Monica laughed.
"Indeed."
Phoebe shook her head. "It was never like that for me."
"Really?" Monica was bewildered.
"Really," she nodded, "I hope I get to have that someday."
"You will."
A bell resounded through the hall, and the prisoners rose to return to work. Three of them had smiles on their faces, but only one of them was real.
==
"Didn't you eat lunch?"
"Yeah, but I'm really tired. Can't I take a nap or something?"
"You lazy bum, get back up. We have patrolling to do." Joey poked Chandler with his cane, and the recruit rolled over, falling onto the floor with a wet thud.
"Ew. This floor is disgusting." Chandler smelled it, and immediately jumped to his feet.
"It's the best we got, so, get used to it, huh?" Joey halfway smiled, making Chandler roll his eyes.
"I don't want to have to. I'm getting out of this place as soon as I can."
"Don't be so sure, Bing."
Chandler shot him a look. "Hey, I'm getting out of here one way or another."
"I guess you're right. Now, let's go, before I change my mind and make Kip give you kitchen duty."
==
Rachel grimaced again. The cramps were back, and she'd only barely passed inspection during roll call today. She'd already vomited twice before lunch. Her knees were buckling, she felt faint and sick, but there wasn't a thing she could do. Monica looked at her, a pained expression obvious in her clear blue eyes. Rachel attempted a weak smile, but couldn't stop the tear from falling down her cheek in surrender.
"I love you," Monica mouthed.
"I love you, too."
And another tear fell down among the resting place of millions.
====