Certain Demolitions: Play a Fantasia

Summary: Another spin-off idea from CD: Berlin, Germany, 1940. Ema Skye thought her luck as she tried to escape her pursuer had run out. Then she ran into Klavier Gavin.

Note: This story is rated OT for older teen due to some of the themes in the story.

Chapter 11: In the Burning Heart

[Status: Non-canon in the context of CD.]

Berlin, Germany

1940

The sound of her feet on the road sounds too loud, and she's afraid everyone can hear it. But there's nothing she can do about it. Ema Skye was breathing hard and fast, but she knew she couldn't stop running.

Everything has gone wrong since the day her sister was arrested, everything. Sent off to live relatives in Europe, her elderly aunt had in turn sent her to a prestigious and expensive boarding school for girls in the Netherlands.

Which had been fine, and Ema would have even admitted that she liked it there. Right up until the war broke out and Germany invaded.

Ema hadn't really taken any languages while she was at school. English was the language of choice there, and she knows enough Dutch to make herself understood. So she hadn't really been prepared to be conscripted as slave labor and sent back to Germany to work.

And as an American, she wasn't going to stand for it, either, which was why she was on the run. That, and the businessman she'd been sent to work for had tried to force himself on her tonight. After that there was no more time to try and plan how to get back first to Holland and then to America. It was just time to leave.

Behind her, the sound of footsteps was drawing closer. She tried to increase her speed, but then she felt a hand on her arm. "No!" She shrieked, spinning around to face her attacker. "Leave me alone." But he was taller and had a heavier build, and he was using that weight against her.

She screamed.

And then her attacker was felled by the quick blow of a rifle butt to his face. Before cognition caught up to mental processing, Ema found herself looking into the face of a man not much older than she was. He had brilliant blue eyes and platinum blond hair, and was wearing a black uniform with a red armband bearing a swastika on it. He swung his rifle back onto his back, grabbed her by the hand, and pulled her away.

Because it took her a few seconds to process all of this, they're already a couple of blocks away from her attacker before Ema realized that the man she's with is a Nazi who still has her hand in his. And because she hates Germany, and the Nazis, she does the most logical thing she can think of: when they come to a stop so her rescuer/latest kidnapper can make sure that no one on the road will be paying attention to them when they emerge from the alley they're in, she pulls her hand free and hits him as hard as she can. She isn't very strong, but fear adds to her strength and managed to land a good blow on him.

"Achtung! Fraulien!"

"Let go of me!" Ema shrieked.

He looked alarmed and slapped a black-gloved hand over her mouth. "Fraulien. Would you rather take your chances with me, or with them?" He gestured at the guards patrolling the street.

She pulled his hand away from her mouth, and he let her. "Fine. I'll follow you," She said reluctantly. Even though his English has an obvious accent, it's the first English she's heard since she was shipped to this wretched country. Until now, the only thing she's heard is scattered words and commands that sounded like someone was reading them out of a book.

So Ema let him take her hand and guide her through the alleys and back streets of the city, until they come out to a street that he takes them both onto the sidewalk of.

"Abend." A soldier on the street said, nodding at her escort.

"Abend," He returned, touching the brim of his hat.

They walked to a solid, squat building with guards stationed outside. Her guide ignored the guards and went in.

Inside, they take an elevator up to the highest floor of the building, and Ema realized that this was an apartment building. "Where are you taking me?" She asked suspiciously once they were on the elevator.

"To where I'm staying," He said. "You can't stay on the streets. The guards patrol everywhere."

This is enough to heighten her alarm, but there's nothing she can think of to do right now. There's nowhere she can go in a city in the middle of a country whose language she can't speak.

She followed him out of the elevator and down a quiet hall to the last apartment on the building.

He opened the door. "I'm home."

Ema couldn't understand what he's saying, but a moment later a tall man who looked like a slightly older version of her rescuer came into the room. This man was wearing a blue suit and glasses. "Welcome home, Klavier," He paused when he saw Ema and switched languages. "What in heaven's name are you doing? Who is she?" It was English, but considerably less accented then the first man's. Ema suspected he was speaking it because he thought she couldn't understand it.

"Ach…um…" Her rescuer looked confused. "I don't know. She was in trouble, so I stopped to help."

The man in blue shook his head. "Wonderful. We can't even help ourselves out of the mess we're in, but you have to stop and help people on your way home from work." He looked at her. "What is your name?"

She stared at him blankly. He frowned and switched languages again, back to English.

"What is your name?"

"Ema Skye." She retorted.

"Fraulien Skye. I am Kristoph Gavin, and you've already met my younger brother Klavier," Kristoph said. "Where are you from?"

"America. But I was in school in Holland when your country invaded." Ema spat back.

"I see," Kristoph said grimly. He turned to Klavier. "Tell me what happened."

Klavier did so, and kept it short. When he was finished, he said, "If you have no more questions, please excuse me." He turned and went down the hall and vanished through a door.

Kristoph and Ema looked at each other. Ema turned and started back towards the door that led into the apartment.

"Where exactly do you intend to go, Fraulien Skye?" Kristoph asked behind her, and Ema came to a stop, bitter in the realization that there's no place she can go.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you're trapped here." Kristoph said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Just like we are." He turned and went into the kitchen of the apartment, and she watched him set the tea kettle on to boil.

(-)

When Klavier reappeared, he was out of uniform. He was still wearing black; his pants and vest, as well as his boots, are black. But his shirt under the vest was purple, and the sash tied at his right side was purple shot through with strands of blue and red-violet. A silver hoop earring that wasn't there before is in one ear.

Ema was sitting in the living room, on the sofa. She sat rigidly, holding a cup of cooling tea that Kristoph had served her. When he came back with the cup, she noticed the slightest limp in his walk, like he was hesitating before putting his weight on his right knee.

Klavier paused, and watched his brother move around the kitchen. She realized that he had picked up the fact that his brother was uncertain about putting his weight on his knee. The blond played with his bangs for a moment, muttered "Achtung!" again under his breath, then saw her and flashed her a warm smile.

"I'm sorry I did not get a chance to explain things to you properly, Fraulien Ema." He said as he sat down, and she was glad that he was sitting in the chair and not on the couch. "But I was in a hurry to get home, and it seemed better if we were not followed, yes? So I waited to explain until later."

"Thank you for saving me," Ema said, grudgingly.

"You are welcome, Fraulien."

"If you're done flirting with our new houseguest," Kristoph said from the kitchen. "Come help me set the table."

Klavier grinned at her, then got to his feet and went to help Kristoph.

Ema frowned and considered the situation she was in. She wanted a way to get back to Holland and find out if her Aunt was still alive. Then she wanted both of them to be free to go back to America.

But right now she wanted to know what Kristoph had alluded to about the brothers being trapped here too.

(-)

"I expect it will rain tomorrow?" Klavier asked at dinner that night.

The three of them were sitting around a small table in a small dining room. Klavier had been dispatched to find an extra chair, and had given up thirty seconds into the task, choosing to move the chair from the living room over to the table. This left Ema sitting opposite Kristoph in one of the proper dining room chairs. Kristoph has the other, and Klavier sat between them in the chair he moved in from the living room.

"Yes. But I haven't heard the official report from the Ministry of Weather yet."

"According to the Ministry of Weather it will be nice tomorrow." Klavier reported.

"Did Herr Hitler smash the barometer? Or does the Ministry get their reports by throwing darts at a weather map?" Kristoph asked.

Ema perked up a little at this. She had suspected that her hosts were hiding more than they were letting on, based on Kristoph's earlier comments. But she hasn't found a good way to bring the matter up yet.

"I'm sure it's darts that they use." Klavier replied glibly, but there was a note of anger in his voice.

"Are you working tonight?" Kristoph asked.

"No. But I'm to go in tomorrow."

Kristoph's expression was veiled, but he seemed unhappy at this news.

After dinner Ema sat in the living room again while Klavier and Kristoph clean up. She could hear them talking, but they were speaking German again, so she couldn't understand what they're saying.

She's started to think that she might be safe here. But she's afraid to trust that thought.

In the kitchen, Klavier is washing the dishes, and Kristoph dries them and puts them away. This allowed him to move around the kitchen and tray and keep his knee from getting any stiffer. He had been prepared to wash, but Klavier had volunteered for the job.

Kristoph tried to limp as little as possible these days. But it's hard not to sometimes, like tonight, when the weather is changing.

"Where do you intend for our guest to sleep?" Kristoph asked.

Klavier had been considering this problem off and on throughout dinner. "She can have my bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

"Which floor?" Kristoph asked incredulously.

"The living room floor." Klavier suggested. There is a rug on that floor, and with enough blankets he should be comfortable.

Kristoph frowned and put the plate he was holding in the cupboard. "You're going to go to work tomorrow morning after having spent the night trying to sleep on the floor." He sounded like he didn't believe it, or that he thought Klavier had lost his mind.

"Do you have any better ideas?" He can't sleep on the couch, it isn't long enough for him to stretch out and actually be comfortable on. And he can't imagine Ema sleeping on the floor, and there's no way he'll let Kristoph sleep there.

"Yes. Two people fit in my bed. It looks like we're rooming together again, little brother." Kristoph finished drying the last of the three glasses and put them all in the cupboard on the other side of the sink.

Klavier grinned. "Just like old times, Kris?"

"Yes," Kristoph agreed dryly. Last time something like this had happened, Klavier was eight. "Just like old times."

After the dishes are done, Kristoph went and sat in the living room. By now he was limping in earnest. Klavier vanished down the hall and reappeared with a guitar.

It looked a lot more natural in his hands then the rifle he had held earlier.

His hands seem to work of their own accord, tightening pegs and testing the strings. He perched on the arm of the chair his brother was sitting in. Kristoph gave him a long look but said nothing about it.

"We have two choices in the evening, Fraulien," Klavier said. "We can listen to the radio or I can play something."

Ema considered it. "I don't suppose you get the BBC here?"

"Not that we'll ever confess to." Kristoph answered.

"Well, whatever you want to play is fine."

"Thank you, Fraulien." Klavier sounded pleased, and embarked on playing a lot of music she had never heard before. But he was good at it, and it was nice, though she hasn't applied that word to anything in this country yet.

Once Klavier started, he kept going. Kristoph listened with his eyes closed, and Ema finally relaxed, just a little bit.

Ema had lost track of the time by the time Klavier finally stopped. "You must be tired, Fraulien. I can show where you'll be sleeping, if you would like," He said.

"I would," Ema replied. He held out a hand to her, and after a moment, she took it and let him pull her to her feet.

They went down the hall that she had seen Klavier go down earlier that day, and stopped at the first door on the right. Klavier pushed it open. "You'll be sleeping here tonight."

He entered the room and Ema followed, looking at the largely bare room. The furniture was functional and simple, and there were no pictures on the desk or anything on the walls. "This is …plain."

Klavier took a pile of clothing out from under the pillow on the bed. "This is my room. And you're right, it is plain. But Kristoph and I…we are just staying here. Our home is in Munich."

"What happened to bring you here?" Ema asked. For a change, she was genuinely curious.

"Ach…lots of things." Klavier hedged. "Gute Nacht, Ema." He said, and then he was gone.

Ema looked in the direction he'd gone. curious. But then she closed the door and shoved the bureau over a little bit so that the edge of it barred the door from being opened.

For a change, she doesn't think she's fallen in with monsters. But she doesn't intend to take any chances.

(-)

Kristoph had been lying in bed that night for hours, staring at the ceiling. Lights from the city outside reflect into the room through the chink in the curtains.

Finally, he slid out from under the blankets, carefully. Next to him, Klavier was asleep and had been for hours.

Kristoph went to the kitchen and fixed himself a cup of tea. It was one habit from his time in London years ago that he never got over, though to be fair, he never really tried.

He left the lights off once he'd brewed the tea and went to sit at the table.

Klavier, what have you done? He considered the newest development in their predicament as he waited for the tea to cool enough that he could drink it. Their situation was bad enough as it was, without the addition of more people.

Lt. Mander had struck faster than Kristoph had ever anticipated, showing up one afternoon at their home in Munich with officials from Berlin earlier that year.

"I'm here to invite your little brother to come work for us." Mander had said, after shoving Kristoph out of the way and letting himself and the officials and soldiers he'd brought with him into the house. He'd introduced one of the men with him as being one of Hitler's personal aides. Kristoph, not pleased when anyone who he wasn't related to by blood let themselves into his house, looked ready to protest, but something in the demeanor of the soldiers who were with Mander made him hold his tongue.

Klavier had heard the commotion and come downstairs to see what was going on.

Mander's grin when he had seen the younger Gavin was wide and manic. "Hello, Klavier. It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has," Klavier had said, cautiously.

"I'm here, along with," He had paused to introduce the Hitler aide standing there. "To tell you that we have a job for you to do in Berlin. You can become a member of the Nazi Party and serve the Fatherland."

"I appreciate the offer but I'm going to have to decline." Klavier put on a pleasant smile. "I haven't finished my last year of schooling yet."

"You're, what? Two, three grades ahead of where you should be for your age?" Mander had asked. "I think you can just sit for your graduation exams and then come to Berlin. In fact, you can take your examinations in Berlin. We'll make all the arrangements."

"That's very kind of you, but I don't really want to leave Munich." Klavier had replied. "And family policy has been that we don't take sides in politics."

Mander looked at the Hitler aide, who nodded at the soldiers, and a moment later, Kristoph had found himself on the business end of three guns.

"That's not the right answer." The aide had said. "But we're going to give you a chance to change your mind."

"Of course, I can always take my examinations in Berlin." Klavier had conceded, quietly.

"Wise choice," The Aide had said.

The tea was finally cool enough. Kristoph sipped it slowly. Their only saving grace so far was that Calisto had not been paid before the brothers had been relocated to Berlin, and when she hadn't gotten her money, she had come looking for them. Her disguises were many, and she had no problem getting herself into and out of the building.

Klavier worked for the Nazis now, doing what he was told, mostly propaganda work, since he fit the image the Nazis wanted to project. He also worked for Mander a lot, and Kristoph was sure that the man was enjoying being able to order the younger son of a nobleman around, and someday he intended to make Mander pay for it. Kristoph stayed at their apartment, working via letter on liquidating the family assets so that there would be money available to them when they were finally able to get out of Germany.

When he went out to shop, or on the rare occasions that he went to see one of the Fuhrer's speeches (the ones that Klavier always had to be present for), the guards posted outside the door of the building shadowed his steps everywhere he went. He had dealt with this by becoming friends with all of them and being on good terms with them. Buying the occasional stein of beer or meal for his guards if the opportunity arose while he was out was interpreted as a gesture of goodwill and a sign they could trust him, and he was banking on them continuing to believe that, right up until the appropriate moment arrived to stab them all in the back and flee the country with Klavier.

And then Klavier had come home with this girl.

Before Klavier had gone to sleep that night, Kristoph had asked him what he thought they should say when they were asked why Ema was there.

"Say she's here to …be domestic help! And do housework." Klavier suggested.

"And what exactly do you think I do while you're out all day other than write letters? It's not that big of an apartment, Klavier."

Kristoph took another sip of tea. Yes, this made everything more complicated. Now he was going to have to work Fraulien Skye into their exit plans as well.

(-)

The alarm clock that went off the next morning was a formality. Kristoph hasn't slept much. He turned it off and sighed. Next to him, Klavier stirred, rolled over and stretched before finally slipping out of bed and going down the hall to his room.

It was a grey day outside, and rain was beating against the windowpane. Kristoph heard his brother knock on the door to the other bedroom, and then Klavier was back in the room, in a state of alarm. "She won't open the door."

"Didn't you bring your clothes in here last night?" Kristoph asked, squinting at his younger brother. He hasn't put his glasses on yet.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I didn't think I would need to. Achtung! The door doesn't even lock! How was I supposed to know she would bar it?! Can we talk about this later, please? I don't want to be late."

"Yes," Kristoph agreed. Klavier sat back down on the bed, took his earring out and set it on the nightstand.

"Take my robe and go start getting ready," The older Gavin said. "And next time, try thinking a little further ahead. Preferably before you bring the girl home, please."

Klavier responded by picking up the other pillow and hitting Kristoph in the face with it.

"Very grown-up of you, Klavier." Kristoph said, his voice muffled by the pillow that was still sitting on his face.

"Lick me." Klavier shot back, before grabbing his brother's robe and darting out of the room.

Kristoph took the other pillow off his face and set it where it belonged. Then he stood up, limped over to the bedroom door, and closed it so that he could get dressed.

He came out of the room minus his suit jacket and tying his ribbon on. The shower in the bathroom was running. He limped down the hall to the door to Klavier's room and knocked on it. "Fraulien Skye, I need you to open the door."

There was no answer.

"Fraulien Skye, there will be a direct correlation between how late Klavier is in getting to work and how many Nazis show up here to ask uncomfortable questions. So unless you feel like coming up with a very interesting story about why you're here, please open the door."

After a moment, he can hear something sliding across the floor and then Ema opened the door and looked at him suspiciously.

Kristoph isn't bothered by it, instead moving past her, into the room. He took Klavier's clothes and uniform and made a neat stack of them on the edge of the bed.

"How do you know Nazis will show up here?" Ema asked.

"Klavier was sick one day, very sick, and he couldn't go into work. The Party didn't believe me when I called to tell them that and they showed up half an hour after he was supposed to be at work to check." Kristoph set his brother's hat on top of the stack and looked at Ema. "Keep in mind that he was genuinely sick and in bed when they arrived. Three hours later, they left. Klavier was sick the rest of the week, and we had doctors coming here every day to check on him tell us what we already knew."

Ema considered it. "Why do they hate you two?"

"That is a long story," Kristoph said, picking up the stack of clothes. "Best saved for another time." He departed the room with the clothes.

He dropped them off on his bed, which he stops to make, and then he takes his cane and goes to the kitchen to make breakfast. Klavier will find the clothes when he's done.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, apart from Klavier's hurried attempts to make up for lost time. He was trying to button his uniform shirt when he arrived at the table. Then, when he had finished that task, he remembered that he had left his guitar in the living room, and jumped up from the table to go put it away.

"Would you please sit down and eat?" Kristoph asked, wondering where all this manic energy had come from lately. Ema sat very quietly in the other chair and tried to make herself as small as she could while she ate a slice of toast.

"I cannot sit, we do not have a third chair." Klavier noted. He stopped at the table long enough to take a bite of his toast, which was sitting on the edge of the table where his plate had been last night.

He was about to dart off again when Kristoph stood up and grabbed him by the arm. He pointed at his own recently vacated chair. "Sit down and eat." He ordered. "You're not going to be that late," He added the last part in German.

Klavier sat down, reluctantly. "Guten Morgen, Fraulien."

That much German Ema can figure out. "Good Morning."

"I hope you slept well."

"I did, thank you."

Kristoph stood in the kitchen, his weight on his good leg as he sipped coffee.

They didn't have much else to say to each other after that. When the meal was finished, Klavier vanished into the interior of the apartment again, reappearing with his hat and rifle. Then he departed.

Kristoph cleaned up the kitchen slowly, hindered by his knee and need for his cane. Ema helped out a little, feeling obligated, moving all the dishes from the table back into the kitchen.

"Danke, Fraulien Skye," He said.

"You're welcome." She loitered around the kitchen, waiting.

Kristoph kept her waiting until he was almost finished with washing the dishes and had them sitting in a towel to dry. Then he dried his hands, reached for his emerald poison ring that he'd left sitting on the counter, and slid it back on his right ring finger. "I suppose you're wondering about the story behind how Klavier and I came to be here."

"It would be nice," Ema admitted.

Kristoph reached for the tea kettle and set it on the stove, the flicked the burner on. When the gas was going under it, he turned back to her. "As you may have determined, Klavier and I are not supporters of the present regime."

"Then why are you still here? And why does Klavier run around in the uniform of a soldier?" Ema demanded.

Kristoph adjusted his glasses. "Klavier wears the uniform because he's been conscripted. Nothing more. If he had a choice, he wouldn't. We're here because there are guards outside the door. Otherwise, we would be back in Munich."

This is a bit of a surprise as far as Ema is concerned. The idea that not everyone supports the present government has not even occurred to her.

Her surprise must have shown, because Kristoph took one look at her face and nodded. "Yes, we don't all support the Nazis." If only he'd acted sooner, before Mander had had time to strike... "But I promise, that if you try and use that information against us, I will deny everything and ensure your destruction. There is only one thing in the world I have any obligations towards, and that is Klavier. I will try my best to make sure that you leave with us when we go, but in the meantime, remember that if you become a liability, I will throw you to the wolves. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Ema said flatly.

"Good." Kristoph replied. The tea kettle was whistling. He took it off the burner. "Tea?"

(-)

Kristoph and Klavier end up sharing a bed again that night. Ema was still in Klavier's room.

Kristoph woke in night, looked up at the ceiling, and realized that he can't feel his left arm. A moment of investigation let him determine that he can't feel it because Klavier is curled up on his shoulder and clinging to his arm.

It makes him feel sad, somehow, and disappointed, but he doesn't know what he's disappointed in. Klavier had come home late that evening, long after dinner was finished, and given some non-committal answers about how work was. He's too young to have to put on a uniform and spend every day faking his way through life. But Mander had made it abundantly clear to both of them early on that Klavier could deal with the present situation or Mander would quite cheerfully put Kristoph in front of a firing squad.

Once, Kristoph would have been able to get Klavier to talk about what had happened by finding some trace of the issue Klavier was trying to avoid, and pressing it as hard as he could. Usually it was enough to get Klavier to talk about what was bothering him. But not anymore. Now Klavier stays quiet about what he sees and does at work.

This is not what should happen to the son of a nobleman, whose family history is as old and distinguished as theirs. Their family should have been nobility in the service of the Kaiser. None of this should have ever happened.

Kristoph breaks out of his melancholy thoughts by reaching for the alarm clock on the nightstand, and bringing it close to his face to make up for the absence of light and his glasses. There's enough dim light in the room from outside that he can just faintly make out the hands: three a.m.

If he pulled his arm free, Klavier will wake up. Instead, Kristoph flexed his fingers to make sure he still can, and then laid back and looked at the ceiling. If his arm hurts in the morning, he'll take some aspirin. For now, Klavier needs to sleep.

It's been a long couple of days. Their new houseguest was magnifying this problem.

Thank you for this one, Klavier.

When the alarm went off at a considerably more reasonable hour that morning, Klavier stirred and released Kristoph's arm, curling up around the pillow instead. "I don't have to go to work today," he said.

Kristoph gave him a curious look, and he went on. "Lt Mander and everyone who works with him was invited to a party tonight that Herr Himmler is giving. Mander said that those who didn't want to come didn't have too, and he gave everyone the day off." Klavier hunkered down under the blankets again. "I'll be up in two hours."

"If you don't have to work, don't worry about being up." Kristoph said, tossing off the blankets and standing up. "Get some more sleep."

(-)

The rest of the day passed quietly. Ema worked on sewing herself a skirt with material that Kristoph had procured. Klavier had given her some clothes as hers were largely past saving, but having to roll up pants legs all the time had started to drive her crazy. He was a lot taller than she was.

A skirt was simple enough to make. She was debating whether or not to try and make a shirt, or just take in the one Klavier had given her. Shirts took longer to make, and she wasn't sure there was enough material.

Kristoph had been up early and spent the day reading and writing letters at the kitchen table.

Klavier had risen later than normal, well after breakfast was finished, and had spent most of the day curled up on the end of the couch opposite Ema, reading a book. He had mentioned in passing that he didn't have to work today.

The day passed quietly and uneventfully, until after dinner that night.

Klavier had been picking chords out on his guitar while Ema watched and Kristoph listened. Ema was in her new skirt but still in the oversized shirt, and she was resting her knees on her chin when suddenly there came a banging on the door.

Instantly, they were all alert.

"Ach du lieber Himmel," Kristoph muttered, his glasses going shiny in the light, before he got to his feet and turned to Ema. "Go to my room. It's the door on the very end of the hall. Be ready to hide if the need arises." He said in an undertone.

Ema nodded and darted down the hall with the speed of a frightened rabbit. She closed the door behind her, all the way but a crack, so that she could see what would happen next.

Kristoph turned to Klavier and said something that she either couldn't hear or couldn't understand. The older man walked to the door, but before he could open it, it was flung open and five men, all in black uniforms and red armbands, entered the room.

(-)

Lt Mander looked annoyed when he strode into the apartment that had been assigned to the Gavin brothers. His arms were clasped behind his back. Behind him, four men filed into the room. He looked at Klavier. "Herr Himmler has been wondering where you've been. And look at you, you're not even ready to go."

Mander had to give him credit, Klavier didn't back down. The musician's spine stiffened, and he drew to his full height. But he thought he shouldn't be surprised; nobility – even former nobility - didn't get pushed around without pushing back. "You said those who didn't want to come didn't have to." Klavier pointed out. "I didn't feel like attending."

"Well, that's a shame, because you've been invited. Explicitly. So you have," Mander paused at this junction and glanced at his watch, "Ten minutes to get your uniform on. And if that's too short of a time period for you, I've brought help." He nodded at two of the men, who moved forward and grabbed Klavier by his forearms.

"Don't you think this is a bit excessive?" Kristoph asked behind him.

Mander smiled. "When I want your opinion, Herr Gavin, I will ask for it. Now, Captain," He looked at Klavier and stressed the military title Klavier had been given, "Time is wasting."

The two soldiers started to drag Klavier towards the hall and his room.

"I must protest this breach of," Kristoph didn't get to finish his statement, as the soldier behind him suddenly kicked him, hard, behind his bad knee. Kristoph's leg gave out under him, and he was on the floor a moment later, gasping in pain.

(-)

Ema doesn't need to be able to speak German to understand Klavier's cries of outrage and protest after that, but his protests are to no avail. The two soldiers dragged him into his room, and Ema backed away from the door for fear of being spotted.

There were more sounds from the outer rooms, but now Ema was earnestly afraid of being caught here – look what they had done to the Gavins who were at least German. What would they do to her, a foreigner, if she was caught? – and stayed away from the door until she heard the sound of voices in the hallway again, and then the front door slammed shut.

When there had been silence in the apartment for awhile, Ema cautiously opened the door and crept out.

Kristoph was sitting on the table, looking pale and drained. He looked up when he saw her, then looked back at the table.

Ema didn't know what to do, so she went into the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove to boil.

"Danke, Fraulien Skye," Kristoph said.

There was nothing else to say.

(-)

Evening became night. Midnight passed.

Ema had retrieved Kristoph's came for him from his room, but even with it, he was still limping badly as he made his way to his room and crawled into bed. He couldn't put any weight on his leg, and had begun to realize that he needed crutches to deal with what had happened tonight and he needed to wrap his knee as well, but for now the best he could do was rest, and hope that he was doing better in the morning.

At one-thirty that morning, the door opened, and Klavier stumbled back into the apartment. Ema was still up, curled up on the edge of the couch, with the radio on and the volume turned down. She couldn't understand the broadcast, but she wanted the background noise.

"Ach Fraulien, you're still here." Klavier slurred, dropping down onto the couch and curling up opposite her.

Ema had sat up straight when he came in. "Are you alright?"

"I'm tired." He replied.

Ema frowned at him. She got up, turned the radio off, and went to Kristoph's room.

The older man was still awake and looked like he'd been expecting her appearance when she showed up in the doorway. He set the book he had been reading on the nightstand when she appeared.

"I heard," He said before she could speak. "See if you can get him back here." It went without saying that Kristoph would be no help on that front tonight.

Ema nodded and went back to rouse Klavier, who had started to doze off on the couch. "Klavier. Come on, get up."

"Why?" Klavier complained. At least Ema thought he was complaining; she wasn't sure.

"Come on." She got him to his feet, and they started down the hall to the back bedroom. When Ema made it to Kristoph's room and deposited Klavier on his brother's bed, Klavier curled back up into a ball, this time with one of the extra pillows on the bed.

"Find his pajamas, please," Kristoph asked. Ema nodded and disappeared from the room.

Kristoph roused Klavier next. "What happened?"

"Herr Himmler wanted me to attend the party. Just me, not the others." Klavier muttered. "He wants me to be overly familiar with Frau Douree."

"Frau Douree?" Kristoph asked, looking slightly appalled.

"Yes." Klavier said. "They put us in a room by ourselves, and they gave us lots of wine."

"Did anything happen?" Kristoph asked urgently. He had begun to realize that this wasn't mere drunkenness; that Klavier had not simply had more liquor than he could handle. His drinks must have been tampered with more than once.

"No." Klavier said. He paused, then added in a thoughtful tone, "Mother would have called Frau Douree a slattern."

Mother would have had a few other words to describe that woman, too, Kristoph thought, adjusting his glasses. He was distantly familiar with the woman in question, a big fan of the Nazis, and a hanger-on to upper Nazis circles.

Ema reappeared with a stack of clothing, and Kristoph roused Klavier again. "Go get changed," He instructed.

Klavier took the clothes, and went back the hall to his own room. Ema and Kristoph looked at each other. "What did he do that for?" Ema asked.

"He's drunk," Kristoph said flatly.

Klavier did come back into the room a few minutes later, ready for bed, and curled up under the blankets.

Ema went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. She doesn't really drink, but she had heard from others that if one didn't want to get drunk, one should drink water while they were imbibing.

Kristoph took it from her and woke Klavier again. "Drink this." He ordered. "Drink all of it."

Klavier did so, looking quite put out as he did, and when he was finished, Kristoph took the glass from him and set it on his nightstand.

"We'll see you in the morning," Kristoph said, looking at Ema again. "Thank you for your help tonight."

Ema opened her mouth to say to something, then closed it, nodded, and left the room. She went back to Klavier's room and shut the door.

(-)

When Ema rose the next morning, Klaiver was nowhere to been seen. Kristoph was in the kitchen, cane hanging off the edge of the counter, limping badly as he went around making breakfast as quietly as possible. And fuming, if the way his jaw kept twitching and his glasses kept going shiny in the light was any indication.

"What happened last night?" Ema asked, wrapping her arms around herself. She hadn't rolled the sleeves of the white shirt up yet and so they came down over her hands.

Kristoph paused. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking, Fraulien Skye."

Ema blew out a frustrated breath. "Is Klavier alright?"

Kristoph paused. "He will be," He said after a moment.

"What did they do to him?"

Kristoph looked annoyed by the question. "Herr Himmler," Kristoph said the name like it disgusted him. "Believes in progressive eugenics," The last two words were accented in tone that made it sound like Himmler belonged to a group of heathens who ate the flesh of their victims, "and thinks that by breeding people he deems perfect with other people that he deems perfect, he can breed more of them."

"Breed them?" Ema asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Like animals?"

"Well if it works for cows and pigs and chickens, why shouldn't it work for people too?" Kristoph asked. It was a rhetorical question.

"That's what they wanted Klavier for?" Ema asked.

Kristoph gave her a long look, and nodded. "That is the only reason he was required to go out last night. So that Herr Himmler could throw a woman of "perfect features" at him and see what happened."

"Did anything happen?"

Kristoph set down the coffee grinder and turned to face her. "This is a subject that is in poor taste for a man to discuss with a woman to whom he is not related."

"There's a war going on." Ema pointed out. "Let's pick up civil society again when it's over, shall we?"

Kristoph frowned at her. "Klavier said last night that nothing happened. Not that I think it's any of your business, Fraulien Skye."

"I think I have a right to know. We're on the same side now, Mr. Gavin." Ema told him.

Kristoph frowned at that. "Yes. I suppose we are." He turned his attention back to the food on the stove. "Let Klavier sleep as long as he can. He needs it after last night."

Ema nodded and went to set the table.

Breakfast was eaten in silence; without Klavier there the pair had little to say to each other. Kristoph had set aside a plate for Klavier. After breakfast, they cleaned up the kitchen in silence too.

(-)

It was near noon when Klavier finally appeared. He still looked exhausted when he joined them at the table, and he spent most of the meal picking at his food between the glasses of water Kristoph kept putting in front of him.

"Keep drinking water. You need to get whatever they gave you out of your system," Kristoph instructed in German.

In spite of the frequent admonition, Klavier only drank a couple of glasses of water with his food.

Even though she knew the answer to her question, Ema thought she would try and start a conversation anyway. "Rough night?"

Klavier pushed his food around with his fork as though he hadn't heard her. Then he paused his pointless motion and said, "I used to get invited to parties because I would bring my guitar. Now I get invited for different reasons." Then he went back to pushing his food around on his plate.

After lunch, Ema cleared the table, while Kristoph washed the dishes and Klavier stumbled around the kitchen putting them away. Kristoph had watched him in the beginning to make sure he didn't drop any of the dishes, but he hadn't, and so Kristoph had said nothing and gone back to washing dishes.

When the last of the dishes were finished and put away, Kristoph made his way over to the couch and sank down on it heavily, relieved to be off his aching knee. Klavier dropped down next to him, and Kristoph silently fished out the small throw pillow that he had been leaning against and handed it to his brother. Klavier took it and curled up next to Kristoph.

Ema sank down in the chair in the living room and settled in to be bored. Then there came another knock at the door. She tensed, expecting a repeat of the night before.

But Kristoph only started to stand up, then he sat back down. "I know who it is," He muttered to Ema, and Klavier, who was giving him a blurry-eyed look. Klavier curled back up and closed his eyes.

"The door is open," Kristoph called.

A woman with long, straight hair and wearing a blue dress entered the room a moment later. She gave the Gavins an appraising look. "Long night?"

"You have no idea." Kristoph said, adjusting his glasses.

The woman turned to Ema. "I don't think we've been introduced." Her English was flawless.

"Fraulien Skye, this is Calisto Yew, an employee of mine," Kristoph said. "Calisto, this is Fraulien Ema Skye. She's…staying with us for the moment."

"Oh really?" Calisto asked, looking very interested. Kristoph frowned and pointed at Klavier.

"Oh, I see." She waved her hand as though she could wave the conversation away. "Heroism has no place in the New Germany." She snickered and pulled a compact out of her handbag. After a moment of checking her makeup, she put it away and turned her attention back to Kristoph. "I have what you've been waiting for." She announced, pulling an envelope from her bag and handing it to Kristoph.

Kristoph took it from her and opened it, then looked through the documents inside carefully. "Excellent," He said, his glasses going shiny in the light. Then he looked at Calisto again. "I need one more packet of documents," He said, and nodded at Ema.

Calisto crossed her arms over her chest and looked outraged. "Are you kidding me? Do you know how long it took me to get the stuff you asked for?"

"Two months and three days," Kristoph said, unfeelingly.

Calisto looked mildly impressed. "You counted."

Kristoph nodded. "Every minute in this wretched city. Surely one of your many, many aliases would suffice."

Now she looked appalled. "My aliases?"

"Yes, Calisto, since you only have about six on you at the moment."

"I'll want extra for it. I want…2,000 additional Swiss Marks on top of what you're paying me."

"Done," Kristoph said without hesitation. "Now find something that will work."

Calisto turned and went over to the table. She set her bag down on it and began to dig around in it. "If I had known you would agree that easily, I would have named a higher price." She muttered.

Ema had stayed silent during the exchange, having realized that the two of them were debating her future and ability to get out of Germany. The other woman extracted a packet and held it out to Kristoph for his inspection. He looked at Ema for a long moment, then peered into the packet, then nodded. "This will do." He looked at Calisto. "Wait here."

Kristoph got to his feet stiffly, then headed down the hall. He returned a few minutes later with an envelope, which he handed to Calisto. "You remember the next steps?"

"I do. But until you show up in Switzerland, I'll be relaxing." Calisto said, putting the envelope Kristoph had given her into her purse and slinging the bag over her shoulder. "See you."

Kristoph didn't reply, instead adjusting his glasses again. The door closed behind Calisto, and then there was silence.

(-)

That night, at dinner, Klavier looks better. His eyes aren't glassy anymore, and he's more alert and more willing – or able – to interact with them.

It made Ema feel relieved, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why.

(-)

The next morning, Klavier dressed in his uniform and went to work again. Ema helped Kristoph clean up the kitchen and then the rest of the small apartment. Kristoph was still limping, though not as badly as he had been immediately after the unfortunate party invitation the other night.

The day passed quietly into evening. Klavier came home and had dinner with them.

Kristoph did not discuss the visit from Calisto at all, other than to say, when Klavier asked about it, "We will be leaving soon."

Ema was sure, when she heard this news, that she felt as relieved as Klavier looked, but nothing more was said about it.

After dinner was finished, and the kitchen cleaned up, Klavier went to his room and was there for so long, that after awhile, Ema drifted back to find him. She found him packing a small valise. "You look like you're getting ready to leave," She said.

"Ja," Klavier agreed. "We will have to be ready to go at any time." He closed the small case and stood up, then brought his guitar in its case over and leaned it against the foot of the bed.

"Will you be sorry to leave?" Ema asked.

"Berlin? No. Germany? Perhaps. It was home once. I don't know what it is anymore, though." Klavier said as he stood up. "I don't know how quickly you will be able to get to America once we are across the border, Fraulien. You might be with us for longer than you planned."

"That's alright." She gave a small smile. "I think I'm getting used to you. Both of you," She added, because while she's been working hard on not letting herself like the cheerful, outgoing Klavier too much, his cold and aloof brother Kristoph made her feel like she was around a cobra, always ready to strike.

It had bothered her last night to realize that, even with Kristoph as a factor, the brothers weren't that bad, and that in another life and another place, Klavier is the kind of guy she would have giggled over with her girlfriends from school, and made silly bets about which of them he would notice first.

Ema rubbed her eyes and wondered when the world had stopped making sense. When the war had started, probably.

"Are you tired, Fraulien?" Klavier asked. He had noticed her rubbing her eyes.

"No, I'm fine." Ema told him. Then they heard the banging knock on the door.

It sounded like the one from the other night when Klavier had been dragged out of the place to go to that party, and Ema felt her heart quail.

In the outer room, they could both hear Kristoph. "Ach du lieber Himmel…" He sounded angry.

Then there were the sound of voices in the outer room, and with a sinking heart Ema knew that the Nazis from the other night were back.

Klavier looked put out by this, but he suspected that they were there for him, and he wasn't sure what to do since he was with Ema. He put a finger to his lips to warn her to stay silent, and walked towards the door, when they both heard footsteps coming in their direction.

Ema turned and threw herself at Klavier. He caught her just as the door opened.

Lt Mander was standing there, and he looked momentarily thrown off. But only for a moment. "Captain, we need to talk," Mander said.

"Lt Mander," Klavier said politely. "Is there a problem?"

"I wanted to make sure that you knew that Herr Himmler will be having another dinner party tomorrow and you should be there, in your dress uniform." Mander said, looking at Ema curiously. From the way she was clinging to Klavier, all he could see was the back of her head.

"Anything else?" Klavier asked.

"You, uh, prefer brunettes?" Mander asked, as casually as he could. Casual didn't work for him, though, there was too much threat in his tone that there was something going on and he knew it and didn't like it.

"I prefer …free-minded women." Klavier said after a brief pause.

Ema would have liked to smile, because she thought Klavier had just alluded to something, either the fact that she was an American or the fact that she had freed herself from the man she'd been forced to work for, but she was afraid to, so she didn't. She had been a little shocked that they had spoken English, but realized that, like with Kristoph only a few days ago, the Nazi must have thought that her native tongue was German or some other Continental language.

"I see," Mander said carefully. "Well since you have already been interrupted, why don't you come to the front room with us. I'd like to speak to your brother about a few things."

There was nothing they could do but follow Mander and the other Nazis to the front room.

Kristoph had been sitting in the living room, reading a book or making a good impression of someone reading while listening for any sounds from the rest of the apartment. On the coffee table in front of the couch was the wine bottle that had been opened at dinner, and Kristoph's glass from dinner, still half-full. He set the book aside when they came into the room, and gave a silent sigh when he saw Ema.

"Herr Gavin, are you aware of what your brother has been doing?" Mander asked pleasantly.

Kristoph looked at Klavier, then Ema. "I don't believe I want to know, Lieutenant. I may be Klavier's guardian, but I am not his mother."

Mander frowned. "Very well. I will take the girl home, and-"

Klavier interrupted at that point. "Your chivalry is duly noted, Lieutenant. But I will see the Fraulien safely home."

Now Mander turned to look at him, suspiciously. Then he looked at Ema. "Papers, quickly!" He snapped.

Kristoph's jaw twitched. Calisto's different identities had been pretty flawless, but if there was a flaw in the documents, Mander would find them, and he hadn't thought until now that Ema would need to know the details about the fake profile in the documents to be able to pass as that person. He hadn't expected to need the documents so soon, either.

Ema looked startled, in part because she had no idea what had just been said and it had been clearly directed at her. Klavier spoke up, and answered in English. "She did not bring her papers, Herr Lieutenant. I did not think she would need them for such a short visit. Don't worry. I will vouch for her and see that she gets safely home."

"Well Captain Gavin you have made a grave miscalculation," Mander said grimly. He grabbed Ema's arm. "I will see that she gets home and I will check her papers when we get there and if anything is out of line, she's going to jail and if you're very, very lucky, I won't send your brother to a concentration camp. You seem to forget that I am the one in charge here."

Mander had been so busy ranting, though, that he had failed to notice that behind him, Kristoph had set his book down and gotten to his feet. He took the wine bottle from the table, and in a sudden move, brought it down on Mander's head. The man collapsed.

He hadn't hit the floor before Klavier lunged out and knocked the first soldier away. He had the man's sidearm away from him in an instant and shot the second soldier, who was about to shoot Kristoph. Then he swung back around and shot the soldier he'd disarmed.

The whole incident was over in less than a minute. Ema had fallen back against the chair, a hand pressed to her chest. Kristoph adjusted his glasses, making the lenses go shiny in the light. Klavier lowered the gun he was holding and looked at his brother expectantly.

"It appears we will be leaving tonight." Kristoph said as he took his hand from his glasses. "Someone will have heard the gunshots," He said, looking at klavier, who was taking the sidearms and extra ammunition from the dead soldiers. "We'll have to hurry."

[A/N:] The Bolivian Army Ending is entirely on purpose.

What do I need to note here? The beginning of this in regards to Ema being in school in the Netherlands was inspired by one of the WWII fiction books I read while researching CD. In the time period in which CD is set, I don't know that Lana would have gone to jail if it came out she was being blackmailed. I may be wrong because that's just conjecture, but I think that there would have been about no tolerance for a man doing that to a woman back then. But in this version, Ema does end up going to Europe.

People in occupied countries during the war could be conscripted and sent back to Germany as slave labor. In this story, we get to see what would have happened if Lt. Mander acted with more foresight than hindsight. And es, I did base this one on a throw-away line from Leitz about how Klavier should have been doing propaganda work.

I did put a warning in the front of this chapter...I have mixed feelings about doing that. I have mixed feeling about this chapter in general, so honest feedback on it would be appreciated.

Happy Memorial Day everyone. Please review!

Alright. Um...I think that's everything, but as always, if there's a question you have, PM me.