It had taken Audrey the best part of a few hours to finally pull herself up from the floor. She had heard his footsteps nearby for the entire time, timidly watching her catatonic state with the same expression she had seen so many times before:

She's broken.

Any warmness she felt for him had bled out against the floor. She couldn't bear to take him in as she dragged herself to her bed, laying atop the blankets despite the cold, her arms wrapped tightly against her throbbing ribs.

It has been a restless few hours in the dark, alone. She drifted in and out of fitful sleep, each dream ending with her life being snuffed by Hans Landa. By dawn she knew she needed Oscar to look at the damage she had done, her breathing was still shallow, and her bones ached, so she had called for him in a bitter and resentful 'Oscar'.

He was in the doorway in a matter of seconds, clearly not having slept a wink as he watched her timidly, eyes darting about as she sat on the edge of the bed. She was dishevelled, her face exhausted, and her body curved inward to protect her battered form from any further assault.

"Are you ok?" He whispered against the holy light of the early dawn.

"I think I've really hurt myself," she said matter of factly, eyes burning against him. "I need you to check."

He nodded earnestly and crept forward, kneeling by the bed before pausing. He watched her for permission and she tersely nodded as he scooped up her blouse, watching the flinch on her face as he studied the newly formed bruises she had created. He could see where her own fingers had gouged in, the skin still swollen and angry, looking foreign against her bones as it shifted with every minute movement.

"You'll need to bandage it," he told her quietly. "I can do that. Audrey… you… you really hurt yourself…."

"I told you," she said quietly, her voice positively hateful.

"I know," he conceded. He had wrapped her fresh with a large bandage around her waist, stabilising her so each movement wouldn't harm her so much. He'd told her to rest, laying her down on her side, the bed pressing against the tender flesh in an equally comforting but painful embrace.

To his credit, he had left her alone. She had spent her Sunday morning asleep on her side instead of praying in church, restless but desperate for the embrace of darkness. It had come to an end when Oscar had asked her to take two foreign tablets, held in the centre of his palm. She had, despite the hesitation, because the siren song of sleep was too much to say no to. She had slept uninterrupted for the rest of the day and night. Oscar had paused to watch her several times over, burning guilt to see the tiny woman curled to herself, crushed beneath the weight of sleep and pain and a million other unspoken hardships.

She had returned to work on Monday without any fanfare, ignoring entirely Oscar's exasperation that she should be still.

"If you want those papers," she bit back as she tied her wool scarf around her neck. "Then I need to go to work. Goodbye Oscar."

She had seen the shame consume him as he didn't argue, and she had shaken her head with such disappointment he had felt his heart hurt.

Audrey let the cool air burn her cheeks as she slowly walked down the quiet Paris streets. She had left half an hour early, aware that her aching and bruised skin would add time to her usually brisk and short walk. She tried to distract her mind as she travelled, thinking back on more pleasant times. A rare indulgence. Audrey had learnt to the best of her knowledge to snuff the past and the pleasant, but on occasion when it all became too much she would retreat into those warm and sweet memories and feel embraced by their pastel glow. She let herself remember her thirteenth birthday. Her mother had made a cake and a challah, her father had bought her some poetry books, first editions, all in their original languages. It had been the three of them at first and her mother had performed a strange and impromptu bat mitzvah at the kitchen table, much to the amusement of Audrey's decidedly unbelieving father. It had been a hodgepodge of Russian and Hebrew, none of it really what a Rabbi would prescribe, but her mother had been intent on making sure her daughter knew she was a woman while sat at that wooden table. That night their neighbours and friends had come and gathered in the warm and well-lit kitchen. Her mother had had too much wine and had sung happy birthday in Russian, clapping along to the line 'С днём рождения тебя!' which only served to deeply confuse the Luxembourgish neighbours and friends, and was sung with such sincerity the thirteen-year-old Audrey had begun to laugh aloud, tears rolling down her face as her mother had held her face and softly sung 'Y'varech'cha Adonai' in Hebrew against her daughter's forehead in front of the entire confused yet bemused party. Audrey remembered whispering the phrase 'Ani ohevet otah' to her mother and her mother saying it back, her mother's beautiful dark hair curtaining across Audrey and for a brief second the world being closed out. I love you. She was so young but even then, she knew the power that the strange sounds of Hebrew had. The sacred way she could speak to her mother, shrouded for just the two of them. For a fleeting second, Audrey had the overpowering memory of her mother's scent. Sweet and bitter like cardamom, burnt sugar and coffee.

Audrey quietly startled as the sound of a rumbling engine interrupted her daydreaming. It shattered from her mind's eye, draining to black as she blinked and glanced up to see the familiar glossy black car crawling beside her. She didn't slow her already slow rate, instead, she glanced it and continued as though she hadn't seen it at all, not needing to view his face to know which Nazi sat in the luxurious confines of that staff car.

"Salut Audrey!" She heard his familiar voice call from the car.

"Bonjour Colonel Landa," she called, her eyes forward. "Comment ça va?"

"Très bien Audrey, Merci," he chuckled loudly. "Ça va?"

"Oui," was her one-worded answer. He laughed so loudly she had flinched without her permission, wincing at the way of her body moved beneath her pained skin.

"How about you Zoller?" She heard Landa say. "Ça va?"

Audrey slowed to a pause, the car pausing beside her as her eyes drifted up to see the two of them sat in the back of the car. Zoller was watching her timidly from the far side of the car, his head tilted forward to catch a view of her. Audrey turned and walked slowly, her hands coming to rest against the open window, her fingers wrapping around the frame. She leant down carefully, looking past Landa and directly at Zoller.

"Bonjour Frederick Zoller," she said, making her voice soft. "Comment ça va?"

"Très Bien," he said, a twitch of a smile reaching his face.

"How can I help you, Colonel Landa?" She said, turning her gaze to his with a familiar and tired smile.

"Non non non non," he scolded, a deep growl of a chuckle rumbling at her question. "How can we help you, Audrey? Zoller told me all about finding you on the floor, and you are back to work already?"

She watched a flush catch Zoller's face but dragged her eyes back to Landa.

"My ribs aren't healing as well as I had hoped," she said quietly, her eyes dipping in a sign of embarrassment. "I apologise to you, Private Zoller. It was not very professional of me-"

"Oh Audrey, Non!" Frederick interrupted, eyes swelling in shock. "Non, not at all, non non, just concern that is all!"

"Very well," Audrey murmured. "Regardless… désolée. Can I be of any further assistance messieurs?"

The sincerity that she was able to conjure across her pretty face made Landa smirk softly. She had an uncanny ability to immediately soften that cold and contoured face of hers, making it young and sweet and gentle. He watched it with delight to see her eyelashes flutter, her lips softly part with a sad and sorry smile. He was well versed in using a friendly expression to disarm someone, but she had one better in that soft and sweet demeanour she could so easily slip into. He could see the twitch in Zoller, could see the young man wished to leap from the car and protect her. He wondered how many Nazi soldiers she had twisted without effort, turned to serve her. He quietly envied such a strong skill to manipulate.

"Audrey, let us give you a ride, oui?" Landa said, calmly patting her hand that curled around the window frame.

"Oh non," she murmured with a little smile. "Oscar told me I need to exercise if I want to get better."

"How is Oscar?" Zoller blurted.

"Well," Audrey said breezily. "I need to walk Colonel Landa, Merci for the offer."

"Well, then we will walk with you," Landa said with a benevolent smile and clap of his gloved hands. She caught the cruel little smirk that caught his mouth. She let a small smile twitch her lips at his absolute boldness before she nodded.

"If you wish," She said, stepping away from the car a little too swiftly. Landa saw the flinch that hit her. He knew that she was in terrible shape. He had seen it first hand, the injuries that Klutch had inflected were one's intent on causing death and destruction. Despite that, she still stood tall, smiling genially as Zoller leapt from the car and jogged to be by her side.

"I hope Oscar wasn't too worried about you being home late?" He said in a soft voice, watching her reaction carefully as Landa slowly climbed from the car, dusting off his hat before placing it atop his head.

"Ah… we had a little fight about it…" Audrey said softly. She had considered this at length. The fight had been loud and if the window was open she was sure it would have floated down to the waiting ears of one Frederick Zoller.

"I'm sorry Audrey," he said with a soft twist of his mouth. "I should have walked you up, I should have explained-"

"Explained what?" Landa asked as he came to stand half an inch too close to her. Audrey frowned quietly, fully aware that Zoller would have told him that already.

"I had a fight with Oscar," Audrey said unemotionally. Landa gave his characteristically animated frown, almost pouting at her.

"Shame," he cooed.

"He is jealous," she said, with such finality that she saw Zoller flush in the corner of her gaze. Landa gestured gracefully and she nodded, walking as fast as her aching form could travel and her two companions carefully strolled beside her. Landa's hands pressed into his coat pockets and she watched his eyes flit across the street, enjoying the early sunshine. Zoller's hand hovered behind her lower back, his eyes watching her carefully with such compassion that it made her hate him even more.

"Private Zoller said you did a wonderful job on his coat," Landa mused.

"Merci," Audrey responded lightly, her eyelids heavy as she focused on each step. The rising tension of being pressed between two Nazis, the whole of Paris watching her amiably walk with such monsters, laid heavy against her already aching bones. She did not need the reminder at present in her damaged body. She willed away the creeping pain, the press of her injured ribs against the bandage, jolted by each new step.

"Did you always want to be a seamstress?" Zoller asked. She glanced up, the small talk grating her already agonised nerves.

"Non," Audrey said politely. "I wanted to be a nurse."

"Oh!" Zoller said politely. She glanced to see surprise hit his handsome face. "What happened?"

"She had a change of circumstance," Landa interrupted with a dark chuckle. She saw the understanding flash across Zoller's face and he threw her an apologetic look. They had walked in silence after that but she felt the burning gaze of Zoller upon her. She did her best to look unaffected, but she was sure the pain was beginning to radiate from her. She glanced to see the joy on Landa's face that he had sunk everyone into such discomfort. She found his inability to allow any joy almost interesting. She had never met anyone so free of moral. He appeared to her to be living only on nerve and impulse, and each of those seemed to be pointed towards self-preservation with the cost of destruction for all else.

It had been a shout that had pierced the awkward trio. She watched Zoller's head snap to the sound while Landa's lazily drifted his eyes over to the scene.

It was a young woman and a child, the argument flaring between her and the two young Nazi soldiers. The child looked increasingly distressed, particularly when it escalated to one of the soldiers shoving the young woman.

"Colonel Landa," Audrey said quietly. "Stop them."

"Excuse me?" He asked, letting a burst of laughter roll from him without shame.

"They're going to hurt her," Audrey continued. "Colonel Landa, stop them."

She could feel Zoller tense beside her as the abuse increased, a heavier shove being levelled against the woman who looked no older than a teenager.

Landa watched her intently as Audrey stared up, looking exhausted.

The child cried out as a hand came down on him, and Audrey snapped to action without thought.

"Halt!" Audrey yelled in German, her feet carrying her without her consent across the road. "Stop that! Stop it!"

She could hear the woman talking in quick Russian and she felt a stab of familiar care. She knew they hadn't seen Zoller or Landa yet, because the two continued to smoke and smirk, chuckling viciously at the brave Audrey who ran forward without concern.

"What's wrong?" Audrey asked in Russian, watching a flicker of worry hit the young soldiers faces.

"I am a nanny," the young woman snapped, tears of frustration rushing down her face. "Of a diplomat, I'm just trying to get him to school-"

"What is she saying?" The young soldier bit at Audrey.

"What is the diplomat's name?" Audrey interrupted in Russian, ignoring him entirely.

"Aleksandr Bogomolov," the woman answered. The child went to speak but the solider shoved him hard. Audrey moved without thought, stepping between the child and the young soldier.

"Excuse me," Audrey snapped in German. "This is the governess of Aleksandr Bogomolov, you'd be a fool to lay another hand on her-"

"A fool?" He bit with a laugh. She heard the anger flow through him and she felt her body continue to move without thought, right into harm's way. Her hand moved to hold the boy behind her.

"Ja," Audrey repeated steadily. "You value your comforts? Your liberties? Put another hand on these two, I can assure you your commanding officers will strip them all from you-"

"What about you?" The other one called. Audrey's head whipped back.

"What?" She said, brow furrowing.

"You, you're a filthy fucking kommunistisch," he spat, anger taking over him as he flicked the cigarette away.

"I'm Luxembourgish-"

"Why do you speak such good Russian then?" The first one called. Audrey looked back, feeling the nerve run down her spine. She turned to call for Landa but she felt the strangers hand collide with her mouth, the back of his hand causing a sharp shock of sound to radiate from her skin. She heard a shout, but the soldier ignored it, ordering her to get away from the child. She moved without thought to protect the boy and a sharp punch had reached Audrey's already tender ribs. She felt such pain that her vision fizzled for a moment, a little gasp leaving her lips as she fell forward, her arms wrapped around herself.

Audrey heard Zoller shout again as she rolled forward onto her knees, her eyesight shorting for a second longer as the solider behind her cursed loudly in shock at her two companions.

"Audrey?" Zoller was whispering, his hands on her back as she curled one arm to her rib, her hand pressed to the asphalt beneath her.

"I'm ok," Audrey was whispering. She felt the pain shiver through her as she fought to keep her bile at bay.

"What is this?" She heard Landa lazily call.

She heard the boots scuff the ground as they leapt to attention, their arms flying high as the yelled: "heil".

"Audrey," Zoller worried.

"Frederick I'm fine," she whispered, a cold sweat hitting her as she sunk further to the ground, clutching her injured side.

She looked up through her forward fallen hair to see Landa lazily walking forward.

"She's the governess to a Russian Diplomat," Audrey whispered in French, feeling her teeth clench and her jaw stiffen. "That's his son Colonel Landa-"

"Is that true?" Landa said with a little smile, interrupting her with a look of wild delight.

"Do you speak French?" Landa asked the little boy. He nodded timidly, moving closer to the governess. "Who is your father?"

"Aleksandr Bogomolov," the little boy said softly. Landa let his brows shoot up, nodding softly.

"Good catch Audrey," he said with a soft laugh. "Well done."

Zoller crowded her and pulled her to her feet and Audrey felt hateful as herself for feeling her fingers sink against the uniform of the Nazi private, her legs painfully weak beneath her.

"On you go," Landa was gesturing condescendingly to the nanny and the boy. The woman's eyes shot between Landa and Audrey and Landa let a nasty smile spread.

"Russian only?" He asked. The woman tentatively nodded.

"Audrey," Landa said with a literal snap of his fingers. "Translate, oui?"

Audrey nodded weakly, her eyes unfocused as she felt Zoller's too familiar form crowding her further, one hand on her back, the other hovering on front of her as she sunk her hands to his forearm.

"Tell her Colonel Landa valiantly ceased this ordeal," he said swiftly. Audrey let a twitch of derision hit her face before she turned to the young woman.

"He says, he stopped this," Audrey said in perfect Russian.

"Nyet," the woman said, shaking her head in confession. "You did."

"Nyet?" Landa asked.

"She said I did," Audrey uttered in French.

"Ah," he chuckled. "An honest Russian? A rare treasure. Tell her she is to say exactly what I have said."

"You're to say what he said," Audrey translated.

"Nyet," the young woman said, becoming increasingly upset. "They hurt you. Are you ok? Do you want to come with us?"

"Come with us," the little boy blurted in Russian, nodding emphatically in tune with his nanny.

"Audrey?" Zoller whispered.

"What are they saying, Audrey?" Landa asked, a sly grin hitting his face. He was delighted to not know what was being said, though from the increasing panic in her eyes he could see that it wasn't anything that would benefit or preserve the life of one Audrey Loewe.

"You say that Hans Landa saved you, and punished these two little, pathetic Nazi boys," Audrey said, an intensity hitting her tone.

"Sestra," the young woman said. "Master Bogomolov is a very powerful man-"

"Nyet," Audrey begun.

"He can protect you-"

"Sestra please," Audrey interrupted, eyes beginning to swell with panic.

"These Nazi's would not dare stand against the might of Russia," the woman continued, her voice furious with national pride. "You are to come with us, you-"

"Hans Landa is the Jew Hunter," Audrey interrupted in harsh Russian tones.

Landa watched the emotion and passion run dry from the nanny, her eyes swelling as she suddenly yanked the boy close to her.

"Jew Hunter," Audrey restated in perfect Russian, her eyes imploring. "Please…. Sestra. Please."

The woman nodded softly.

"What is happening Audrey?" Landa called calmly, smiling softly to watch the stress eat away at the strangers in front of him.

"She'll do it," Audrey whispered, her eyes still burning to the young woman. "She understands."

"Good girl Audrey," Landa said with a small chuckle.

The praise felt like someone had poured acid over her skin and she felt the strong bile of hatred rush up her.

Landa waved the two men off in German and stayed still as he watched the young nanny rush away, the little boy held tight to her grip.

Audrey stood, her jaw still tense as she held her nerve against her agonised side.

"You're not healing very well at all are you, Audrey," he tutted as she tried to straighten herself.

"Shouldn't you have disciplined those boys, Herr Landa?" Zoller asked quietly.

"That sounded suspiciously like a junior officer challenging a senior officer," Landa said with a chuckle.

"No… no of course not Herr Landa," Zoller said awkwardly. "But they… they really hurt Miss Loewe."

"They did," Landa agreed.

The tension lay between the three and Audrey let out a soft sigh.

"They didn't know that I was with you," she uttered tiredly, eyes down and fixated on the asphalt below her. "They think I'm just an angry Russian woman."

"You can't punish a man for something he doesn't know," Landa agreed pleasantly.

Audrey couldn't help the bristle and nasty breathe of laughter that left her at his comment, glancing up with pure derision that Landa would say something like that.

"You're right, Herr Landa, no disrespect intended," Zoller said quietly, eyes dropping down to Audrey who struggled to stand upward once more.

"No disrespect felt Zoller," he said softly, a nasty smile starting to spread his face. "It is hard to think clearly when you're so smitten isn't it?"

Zoller's face burned at the comment, eyes darting away as Audrey glared down Landa, her arm wrapped to her side. She attempted to straighten, but she froze against the weight of her pain, a sharp breath echoing from her throat.

"Audrey, I think you need to go to the hospital," Zoller said, the blush still scorching him.

"Non," Audrey said, fluttering him away with a wave her hand. "It's bark is worse than the bite, I promise."

She turned a sweet smile to Zoller, straightening up as best she could.

"She is not a woman you can pester Private Zoller," Landa laughed, flicking him away from Audrey. Audrey slowly moved, her whole body looking pained as she willed it away from her face, smiling amiably at them both.

"I'm going to be late gentleman," she smiled, starting the stride without concern, causing Landa to bark out a laugh.

The party of three had been silent for the most part. Zoller had blushed with embarrassment that his smitten behaviour had been so blatantly called out by Landa with such brash ambivalence, and Landa had held his gaze at Audrey with a hawk-like intensity that made her blood run cold.

Landa had sunk the talons in when they'd reached the front the atelier.

"You won't get up the stairs."

"Excuse moi?" She asked, blinking in surprise at the puncture in the silence.

"Mademoiselle," he said softly, false concern coating his words. "You look weak."

"I'm fine-"

"You look broken Audrey."

He said it so surely and he watched the anger spark on her expression. The silence of her face and the hatred in her eyes spoke louder than anything she could have said.

'And whose fault is that.'

He held his arm out to her, ignoring her screaming silence and smirked when her hand took the crook of his arm, eyes downcast to try and mask some of her growing rage from the prying eyes of Zoller.

It had been a slow ascended up the stairs, Landa stoking her rage by leaving her nothing but silence. She had kept her eyes down when he led her into the room, bristling at the silence that overtook the pleasant chatter. Staff and patrons alike lay silent in his wake and Audrey caught a view of herself in the nearby mirror, understanding exactly what had set the silence into motion.

She looked deathly pale, her bent body signalling her agony and pain to everyone in the room that she was a 'victim' and that Landa was the likely perpetrator. She looked exhausted, emotionally and physically, dark lines beneath her eyes and her gaze clearly dusted with tears.

"Ah Monsieur Landa!" Brodeur called, his face gleaming with greed as he rushed forward to warmly shake Landa's hand.

"Apologies Monsieur Brodeur," Landa said with a smile, looking condescendingly to Audrey. "Mademoiselle Lowe was struck in the ribs by an officer, due to a misunderstanding. She truly is the unluckiest young woman I have ever met!"

Landa interrupted himself with a sharp burst of laughter, eyes gleaming in delight to see Monsieur Brodeur smile unsurely, eyes glossing the pain-filled Audrey who appeared to be struggling to stand.

"Audrey, would you like to sit?" Brodeur said softly. Audrey watched the surprise spread among her co-workers that he would speak to her with any style of kindness, the act so rare she could see Madame Halphen was blinking as though she had hallucinated it.

"S'il vous plaît," Audrey said quietly. She looked to Landa who smiled with fox-like thrill, gesturing easily for her to pass him and sit down. She shrugged off her coat with a wince, requiring help from one of the other young seamstresses to pull on the white coat she donned with expertise. She was very gentle with her aching form as she lowered herself to the stool, focusing on her work, her mind focusing on the black coat in front of her as she returned to her needle and thread.

She could hear the murmur between Landa and Monsieur Brodeur but she did her best to drown it out, her mind screaming in pain and unable to tolerate more of Landa's nonsense.

"Adieu Audrey!"

His voice tore through the quiet atelier, and she jumped with a start, a gasp leaving her as she blinked out, eyes filling with tears of pain.

She didn't look up at his laughter, focusing entirely on her work instead.

"Audrey?" She heard Monsieur Brodeur ask quietly moments later. She looked up, watching past him to see Landa saunter out the door, disappearing to continue his terrorism of Paris. She looked up at her boss, suddenly more exhausted than she had ever been. "Are you ok?"

"I just want to work Monsoir Brodeur," he said quietly, barely able to make herself speak. "That is all. I'm sorry for the disruption."

"No need to apologise Audrey," he said uncomfortably, his eyes landing on her still bruised neck. "If you need to go home-"

"I don't," She interrupted softly, feeling a flare of rage to think of Oscar's concerned face if she were to grace her door an hour after leaving from work with yet another fresh forming bruise. "I just want to work."

Brodeur had nodded, leaving her alone to focus solely on her work. She was exhausted, but she stayed still for hours on end, stitching each stitch perfectly into each garment that was placed in front of her, eyelids heavy from agony but her gaze focused with a need for distraction.

She had stayed long after everyone had left and had dug the papers out of the floorboards with nil concern, breaking a nail and catching a splinter in the process. She stitched them into her coat and walked home with her head down, fast as her aching body would carry her. She had burst through the door, slamming it open to see Oscar scamper from the kitchen, eyes flashed with worry. She had shrugged off her coat, completely forgetting her pain for a moment as she ripped the collar of her coat and snatched the papers, face flushed with rage.

"I am finished," She snarled out, eyes wild as he stared almost frozen in surprise. She shoved them to his chest and he caught them, blinking in shock. "With Zoller, with Landa, with you-"

"Audrey-"

"I am done!" She interrupted, the rage crawling all over her, blinding her to anything other than wanting to satisfy the spitting anger in her stomach. "I will help you with these papers, and then I never want to see you again. Do you understand me, Oscar?"

"Audrey-"

"You hurt me," She continued, eyes ablaze with such certainty she watched him wilt beneath her gaze. "You hurt me as they did, and I don't want to ever see you again. So, I will help you and then you're banished. Do you understand?"

She watched the will to fight drain from him and he let himself do a defeated nod, eyes dropping down.

She walked past him, slamming the bedroom door as she went before sinking against it and wrapping her arms around her aching side, clenching her eyes closed. Whatever the future held for her, no matter what risks she was willing to take for the Bastards and France, she knew that she would never allow a man to touch her like that ever again.