Hi all, so here is another chapter and I hope you all enjoy it. This story is approximately going to be thirty-ish chapters long and takes span over five ish or so years so please bear in mind that it is a slow burn story. The character of Johan aka 'Jon' will slowly come into character as we go on and his past will be explored probably within the next chapter.
Disclaimer-Nothing here is mine except the character of Jon and the plot.
Again nothing is perfect so any historical inaccuracies I do apologise.
Trigger Warnings for some outdated and derogatory language used. This story is set in the 1930s and therefore to keep it as accurate as possible some of the language reflects that time. So please keep that in mind when reading this and or any other chapters.
Please Read And Review.
A Sister's Love
Chapter 4-The Leaving Song
As Liesl heads to the Red Cross and to formulate a plan and to find any information possible, Brigitta meets a man who has just as much opinion about the world as she does. Some derogatory and outdated language used.
Brigitta and Liesl spent what felt like ages in Switzerland (or at least to Brigitta) but in reality it was five days. It took five days to figure out what they were going to do. The Red Cross had been unable to confirm if Captain Von Trapp or indeed anyone with that surname (though Liesl said and Brigitta agreed their father was not going to give that up without a fight) had come through and seeing as most were just passing through there was no way of figuring out where they had gone if they had arrived. Of those five days Liesl went out trying to secure anything from information to plans and Brigitta was left in the boarding house near the train station to watch as the many refugees who could get out of their own country did so looking grim and scared.
Brigitta was sure that her father would not have left them but they had no idea what to do and nothing to go on. There had been no plans throughout their escape—at least none that had been shared with them—other than getting over the border into neutral territory. There had been no discussions after that about going to another country and settling down weather it be America, Britain or Australia or any of the other places offering refugees homes.
Many of them were Jewish and sitting in the small boarding house at the bar (far away from the other patrons) Brigitta began to distinguish who was who by their accents and by their attitudes. Many of the Jewish refugees came together and stayed together, always with that habitual look of fear (as well they might do all things considering) as if they expected Hitler himself to drop down from the ceiling like an angry dragon.
The Soviets who came through feeling the many crisis that had engulfed that land (and Brigitta knew little because her father like many other men at the time did not discuss the Soviet Union other than to say that he disapproved of communism, communists and their pamphlets) looked on the defensive too but they were great talkers and most had a grasp of English. One speaking to the woman who ran the house confessed he'd had to leave because he was too educated and Brigitta before she could stop herself had asked what on earth that had do with anything and getting a surprised look and a wry smile from the man who had to be her father's age and was travelling alone.
"It has everything to do with it my dear" he said through his heavy accent and a mouthful of bread.
"For only by denying education can a dictator keep control of his masses. Education is the key to the future. Everyone should have a chance to be educated. Never forget that"
He disappeared the next day but Brigitta was left to ponder his words over a cup of lukewarm tea for most of the morning.
She tried to help as much she could helping some of the refugees with their bags and with getting food. Sometimes she offered to babysit their children while they went to find news and she sang once standing on a chair as all the children looked at her and laughed and clapped. It was simple words, simple actions and though it cost nothing to her she knew that it meant a great deal to others.
When she wasn't out looking for information Liesl was pouring over newspapers. She'd managed to get ones and was looking for the easiest places to go and the places that were still taking refugees. She had decided on the second night that they would not stay in Europe weather or not they could find their father or not. Whatever happened they had to get out of Europe and though the idea of moving forward without the support of either one of their parents frightened her beyond belief she knew that Liesl was right.
After all, her sister was not the only one who was reading the newspapers and though it was uncharitable to brag even to oneself Brigitta knew a hell of a lot more (and she said that reverently) than Liesl.
She'd been four, maybe five when her mother had died and she had been so small that if it was not for the photographs that had kept their father company for such a long time she was sure that she would have forgotten what she looked like. Certainly she had never really mourned her the way Liesl had, she'd been sad but she'd been a child.
She had been a different sort of child she supposed to the rest of them. Louisa was a fan of the outdoors and had developed a support system with Friedrich that had helped with the endless stream of governesses. Kurt had always been desperately to join in with them and Marta and Gretel had been so young it was easy for them to play together and not to bother any of them. Liesl had always been busy too. Their eldest sister had become almost overnight a mother rather than a sister and Liesl nine times out ten took the beating from the governesses and the lectures from their father and covered for them until the bitter end.
And then she'd come home from school one year and that had been the end of that. It had been lipstick and glossy magazines and Rolfe.
It had never really bothered her before. Brigitta had been independent from the start and while it might be easy for her siblings to go on marches throughout all weathers she was always to be found in the library. When they went into town to spend their father's birthday and Christmas money (as it was easier to throw things at them rather than actually spending time with them to figure out what they liked as individuals) she had always spent it on books and newspapers and by this catastrophe had come around she knew enough from her reading (legal and otherwise—it helped when most of the underground book sellers thought she was carrying them home for someone else) and from the newspapers and newsreels to know that the Nazi's were the party that might see the world to it's knees.
So when Liesl looked at her as if expecting to have to explain that the man was not going to stop with Austria, that the Netherlands would be next, Denmark, Finland, France, even the wider parts of the Soviet Union if they weren't careful it was not a shock to Brigitta. Instead she looked at her sister and said very clearly that she agreed.
And that left the decision making as to which country to flee too.
And that was a conversation that kept going in circles.
Everyday Liesl went out to try and find news and on day four of this Brigitta sat in the corner with a the latest newspaper and scowling when she saw that laws were now being passed to deprive all Austrian Jews of owning their own property when the door opened. It was not unusual and she didn't bother looking up until she felt someone slid into the chair next to her.
"What you reading?" came a voice and she looked up to see a man staring down at her. He had to be only a few years older than Liesl and he was staring down at her with interest. His clothes were well worn and patched and he had a scratch and a healing bruise all down one side of his face and as she watched him he lit a cigarette and she saw that his fingernails were dirty and that his knuckles were bruised and flecked with something that looked suspiciously like blood like he'd been in a situation where literally he had to punch his way out. He had dark blonde, brownish hair and stunningly blue eyes and he had stubble on his chin and circles under his eyes.
"The newspaper"
"Shit really?" he said with an accent that Brigitta had never heard before. The sarcasm and the language was enough to make her laugh. One of the barmaids put down a bottle and a glass and immediately he poured some alcohol and began to down two shots in quick succession before pouring a third and this time leaving it on the table.
"Yes. Reading what that dirty little German is planning"
"Nothing but pain and suffering for a whole lot of innocent people is my guess" he said dryly.
"You passing through?" she asked putting down the newspaper. He stared at the headline for a second which depicted Hitler with that salute directing his troops into…well…somewhere and his hand convulsed on the glass as if he was longing to throw it.
"In a manner of speaking, yes. I am going home"
"That must be nice" Brigitta said and suddenly the longing for Austria, for her house and the lake and the singing in the hills was so strong that she felt tears come unbidden to her eyes. She wiped them furiously and didn't jump when she found a hand on her shoulder.
"Let it out if you want love. Believe me I'm used to it. Besides your too young to fully get carnage that's going to happen"
But she wasn't going to cry. She was a Von Trapp and she might not have her family but as her father would say she did have her pride and she managed to pull herself together rapidly scowling.
"I'm ten not stupid" she snapped not caring that it was rude. "I know the world is about to implode. And my name is Brigitta Von Trapp. Not love."
The man curled his mouth in what might have been an appraising sort of smile.
"Alright Brigitta Von Trapp. Let's start this again shall we? My name is Jon Von Braun. Johan if you want to be technical but Jon for this purpose. Where you from?"
"Austria"
"Hmm…yes I suppose that would make sense."
"And you?"
"Australia, by way of Germany if you want to be truly technical but don't hold that against me. I've been thrown out"
"Why?"
Jon gave a slow smile that showed most of his teeth and Brigitta shivered even though she didn't think he was going to hurt her.
"Well…let's just say that I don't hold up to what my German father would call the perfect ideals. You see…I came across a couple of those Brown Shirts and I may have said somethings"
"Considering your knuckles are bruised I would say you hit something as well"
In hindsight her father might have a point when he said she was sharp but too smart for her own good.
Jon who had just taken a swig of the clear liquid coughed it down with a laugh.
"Yeah" he said. "You might have a point. So what about you?"
Brigitta opened her mouth and then thought about it. Considering they were all in the same boat now she wasn't sure how it could hurt. And she liked him, she liked having the normal conversation. Plus she knew it was helping her with her English. Both of them could speak the language fluently but accents didn't help and she was determined to get rid of hers. She wanted nothing to do with the Austria that Austria had become. The German side of it. She knew how to speak that as well but she had made a vow the second she had gotten on that train that she was never going to speak German ever again.
"My father didn't want to fight for the Nazi's and the Nazi's sent someone after him. It's just me and my sister now"
"He dead?"
She shrugged and then the awful possibility washed over her and she found she was shaking with the fear of it and trying not to cry.
"Ah don't do that Brigitta" he said softly. "Crying won't fix what's going on in the world. And it won't make you feel better either. Take that from me if you want to take nothing else—well—that and if you punch do it with your thumb out of your fist and not tucked in."
She was not sure if It was what he said or the way that he said it but suddenly she was laughing and she was laughing like she had never laughed before and it felt good.
And naturally at that moment it had to be ruined.
The door to the boarding house opened and Liesl came in. Brigitta looked at Liesl and knew that there was no point in asking. There had been no news and soon they would have to choose a country and leave the past behind. It was as sobering as if she had been doused in ice cold water.
"Brigitta"
"Hello Liesl"
Liesl's eyes flickered to Jon who was staring at her with interest.
"This is my sister Liesl. Liesl this is Jon. He's half German, half Australian and he's been run out of the country"
"Well in a manner of speaking"
"Hello" Liesl said guardedly. "Brigitta I think we should be going upstairs now don't you?"
Brigitta got the distinct impression that it was not a question but rather her sister's way of telling her to get upstairs now. Perhaps now it was time to make a plan. Clearly they couldn't keep waiting. She was ten but she was not stupid.
"I guess I will see you around?" she asked.
Jon shrugged.
"At some point I guess"
Brigitta nodded and it was only as she got to the stairs that she looked back. He was gazing into his glass as if it was holding the answers to the world and she realised that they had never actually talked about the rest of his family.
That being said though, she supposed it was rather a personal question.
And there you go, I hope you liked this chapter and I will bring you the rest as soon as I have had it.
Next Chapter-Liesl is fresh out of ideas when one comes straight out of the sky in the form of an half-Australian, half-German man with a past, a radical idea and a smile that is far too dangerous for his own good, and her heart rate.