So I went back and re-read a lot of my old reviews and I'll admit that I was pretty regretful for having drawn this story out for so long – I know for sure that lack of frequent updates lost me a lot of readers. But in the end, the fact remains that if I had rushed this story or done it any other way then I know it wouldn't have turned out as well as it has. So I'd like to take this moment to thank ALL of my loyal readers, both old and new, for sticking it out and being so patient with me You guys are awesome and I will do my absolute best not to disappoint you!
Anywho…Ladies and jellyspoons, we are nearing the end of this tale. And we have finally reached the event – we are breaching the night of the Stolz der Nation premiere. Hang on to your hats!
P.S. Sorry for all the f-bombs. That Donny Donowitz, he sure has a mouth on him…and that just procured all kinds of wildly inappropriate thoughts. Ahem! Moving right along…
Disclaimer: Own nothing.
Donny found it absolutely amazing just how quickly things could go from being just shitty to being an absolute cluster-fuck.
When he and the rest of the Basterds had left for Nadine earlier that day their platoon was still wholly intact and everything had been going according to plan. They'd picked up Lieutenant Hicox without any hassle, had made it to the bar La Louisiane to meet up with the German movie star (and spy) Bridget von Hammersmark, and finally had some idea just what was in store for the Stolz der Nation premiere – von Hammersmark was somehow going to smuggle the Basterds into the premiere so that they could blow the damn thing, and every Nazi shithead inside, to kingdom come.
But everything had changed in the last few hours. Stiglitz, Wicki, Hicox; they were all dead now thanks to a terrible coincidence and a careless mistake on the Englishman's part. The plan – which they now knew had consisted of sneaking the German-born Basterds in under the guise of being von Hammersmark's escort and two German cameramen – had been forced to be altered, so now Donny's original job, setting up a stakeout outside of the premiere with the other remaining Basterds to ensure nobody escaped, had changed. It was up to him, Aldo, and Omar to take out not just the Third Reich, but also the man in charge – Hitler himself. The fate of the war, the fate of his people, they all rested in his hands now.
And now any hope that he'd had of living past this war or of having any sort of future with Klara Bathurst was quickly fading away right before his very eyes.
With a heave Donny raised a hand up to push it through his hair in agitation while he sat staring blankly into the deserted Nadine streets. He normally wouldn't have chosen such an open spot to help himself to a cigarette, but seeing as it was probably around three in the morning at this point he couldn't bring himself to care about how exposed he was – it wasn't like there were tons of people flooding the streets when it was this late at night, anyway. He raised the cigarette up to his lips again, sucked in a deep drag, and willed the tobacco to not only calm his racing thoughts, but also soothe the sick feeling that had settled in his stomach since the moment the tailor had begun fitting him for his death-suit – it didn't work.
Donny shook his head and cursed himself. It wasn't as if a part of him wasn't ecstatic about being the one to bring that mass-murdering shithead to justice – when he'd agreed to join the Basterds he'd dreamed, even yearned, for this very thing to happen no matter the cost. It was their task, their duty, to make sure that these demons were brought to justice and if they had to sacrifice their ownlives in order to see the mission carried out, so be it. It was sheer dumb luck that Hitler and the entire Third Reich were slated to be present and there was no way they weren't going to capitalize on such an advantageous twist of fate. By this time tomorrow the war could be over and by God it would be fucking over. It was what they'd been working towards this entire time and they could not throw in the towel now, it was as simple as that.
But any excitement he felt about bringing down Hitler was being rapidly overshadowed at that exact moment – he simply could not get Klara's face out of his mind right then, nor rid himself of the churning feeling in his stomach at the thought of leaving her behind.
Klara had been completely unexpected. He wasn't supposed to come here and become involved with some tenacious, German woman and he sure as hell hadn't meant to fall in love with her; it had just happened. They'd met under the strangest of circumstances, somehow managed to fall in love with each other, and even though he knew he shouldn't have allowed himself to think such things, somewhere along the line Donny had allowed himself to start hoping for a future with her beyond the war. He imagined he could have convinced her to move to America, where he would have undoubtedly married the fiercely determined yet unbelievably amazing woman, had a dozen children with her, and they would have happily bickered at and loved one another until they were old and grey.
Donny smirked to himself as he suddenly pictured a rowdy brood of children, some with his dark hair and others with their mother's blonde tresses – he could only imagine what their kids would have been like. His quick temper mixed with her tenacity and strong-mindedness? They would have been absolute monsters.
But in the next moment all thoughts of marriage or children vanished and an all-encompassing fear settled throughout his body when he remembered that she too was supposed to be in attendance at the premiere. He couldn't let her go, no – he wouldn't let her go. As God was his witness, if Klara walked through that door then he was going to drag her right back outside himself, no matter who was watching. And no one would be able to stop him; not Landa, not her brother, not even Hitler himself.
His slightly deranged thoughts finally came to a halt when he heard the door behind him open and close a few minutes later. "There ya are, Donowitz…" Aldo said as he appeared at Donny's side. The man let out a long heave and then plopped himself down onto the curb only a foot or so away – when Donny turned a look on his commanding officer there was an expression on his face that seemed both slightly sympathetic and shrewd, as though Aldo knew exactly what Donny was brooding over.
"What's the word?" Donny asked as he took another drag from his cigarette, shifting his eyes away again in a futile attempt to keep Aldo from deciphering anything else he was thinking of – the last thing he needed was for his Lieutenant to think he'd gone soft the night before they were supposed to murder the most evil man in the world.
"Suits'll be ready no later'n noon." Aldo answered. He then reached into his pocket and produced a flask, taking a long sip before offering it to Donny. Donny accepted it with a nod and knocked back a generous helping. "We'll rendezvous with von Hammersmark at 'er hotel 'round six thirty, pick 'er up, then head in'ta that premiere. After that…show time."
So that was that. They'd waltz in with bombs strapped around their ankles, pray to everything holy that they could pass themselves off as Italians, and as soon as he was positive that Klara Bathurst was far away from the Stolz der Nation premiere then they were going to blast the place apart like it was the Fourth of July. So long Hitler, so long World War II, and so long Sergeant Donny Donowitz. Donny nodded in understanding and finished his cigarette before flicking it away. He then took another drink from the flask and passed it back over to Aldo, skillfully avoiding the man's gaze.
For a long moment neither man spoke, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts. But after a couple of minutes Aldo reached over and patted Donny on the shoulder. "I know this ain't easy fer you, Donowitz. I know how ya feel 'bout that woman'a yers." He said slowly, surprising him with the almost consoling tone to his voice. Donny tensed in response to the subject change but didn't say anything in response, finding it too personal and too uncomfortable to discuss matters such as these with a man like Aldo – or anyone, really. "Why don't ya get on outta here, go spend one last night with 'er – it's the least I can do considerin' the sacrifice yer 'bout'ta make. I'll send Omar 'n Utivich'ta pick ya up at first light."
Donny immediately looked at Aldo in astonishment, not entirely sure he'd heard him correctly. "Lieutenant?"
"Ya heard me." Aldo responded in an unaffected tone. He took a moment to pull out a familiar looking container of powdered snuff from his pocket, not even bothering to look over at Donny. "And that ain't a suggestion." He added, inhaling some of the snuff into first his right nostril, then his left. "That's'n order."
Donny only hesitated for one more second before snatching up the gun he'd set off to the side some time ago and hopping to his feet, having caught his second wind at the thought of seeing Klara one last time. "Thank ya, sir." He told him, a rarely felt (at least these days) wave of gratitude washing over him in light of his commander's unexpected leniency.
"Yeah, don't mention it." Aldo said with a dismissive wave – Donny thought he spied a smirk on the corner of the man's mouth, even though it looked like he might be trying to hide it. When Donny stuck his hand out to his commander, the man eyed it for only a beat before shaking it firmly. "Now git."
Sleep was a stranger to Klara Bathurst on this night.
No matter what she did, no matter how many times she readjusted her pillows and attempted to get comfortable, there was absolutely no hope for her to get any sort of rest. Her worry over what had happened in Nadine and her fear that Donny might be dead had left her terrified, anxious, and her mind racing as she fretted now, more then ever before, over the safety of the man that she had fallen so deeply in love with. For hours she tossed and turned until eventually she had grown frustrated and forgone her attempts to sleep entirely, choosing to find something to try and occupy both her time and her thoughts for however long she was going to remain awake.
But even then nothing worked – whether cleaning her home to try and remove any remnants of Kurt and Landa's visit, pacing the entire length of her house and then some, or mindlessly staring out into the quiet streets, her thoughts always returned to one thing: Donny.
Was he alive? Was he hurt? Or, by some miracle and the grace of God, was he perfectly fine and just biding his time until he could come to her?
She'd known all along that there was a very real chance of losing Donny to the icy hands of death – he partook in dangerous excursions with his comrades every single day. But never before had she actually known that a mission had gone awry and never before had Klara ever had reason to be this completely and utterly terrified that she might have indeed lost him. The mere possibility of it left her feeling as though someone had grabbed ahold of her heart and squeezed with all of their might. With each second that ticked by where he wasn't with her she felt as though she were being pulled under by a riptide of sadness, where there was naught she could do but let her fear come out in the form of her tears and try desperately to remember how to breathe.
It wasn't until nearly four in the morning, while Klara was sat near the front window with a hand placed protectively over the place harboring the life she and Donny had created, that she heard it – a tap on her study window.
The sound was so faint at first that initially she thought she might have either misheard the noise or maybe even made it up entirely. But when another tap sounded, followed by the distinct whooshing sound of a window opening, Klara all but flew from her seat and raced to the study. It didn't occur to her to be worried that someone might be breaking into her home; her hope that Donny had finally come to her was far too great to even fathom such an occurrence taking place. When she finally rushed through the doorway, blinking her eyes rapidly to force them to adjust to the dim lighting in the room, a very familiar figure was ungracefully half-climbing, half-falling into her study and pulling himself back to his feet.
"Donny!"
She couldn't have stopped the cry if she'd wanted to and didn't hesitate even a nanosecond to cover the space between them and throw her arms around him in a vice hug. Donny returned her embrace just as adamantly, one of his hands burying into her hair as she latched onto him like her life depended on it, and it was all she could do not to dissolve into relieved tears to be back in his arms. Just knowing that he was alive and breathing and seemingly unharmed made her want to sing with happiness – instead of singing, she began kissing every inch of his face that she could reach.
"I was," kiss, "so worried," kiss, kiss, "Landa and Kurt were here," kiss, "a man came to say," kiss, "what had happened in Nadine," kiss, kiss, kiss, "I thought you were dead!"
Donny finally placed his hands on either side of her face so that he could still her motions, taking a second to look her in the eye before pulling her in for a kiss. "I'm sorry for worryin' ya." He told her, his thick accent ringing clear and sounding like music to her ears. "Things…didn't go as planned." He added.
"I should say so." Klara agreed, finally managing to get a bit of a reign on her emotions. "I am sorry to hear of your comrades." She added softly, offering a sympathetic look.
A grim expression took over his handsome features for a moment before he shook his head, appearing as though he were trying to clear his thoughts. In the next moment he let out a heavy sigh before gently tracing the curve of her cheekbone with his thumb – as he did this his eyes swept over her facial features slowly, giving her the distinct impression that he was trying to memorize the way that she looked just then.
Immediately the nagging feeling that hadn't fully left her for over a day came forth with a vengeance and Klara knew right then that something was wrong. As her eyes adjusted to the light some more she noticed that there was a splattering of blood adorning his clothes, evidence of the tumultuous night that he'd had – he looked tired, he looked worn, and he looked stressed as he continued to simply stare at her without uttering another word. It was only then that the fog of happiness began to fade away and that she remembered her strict warning for him not to visit her home now that both Kurt and Landa were nearby. Why had he risked coming here in the middle of the night when he knew it was unsafe? And why was he currently looking at her the way that he was?
"Donny, is everything alright?"
He blinked as though coming out of some form of trance. "Klare…" He said heavily. "Ya can't go to that premiere tomorrow."
Her eyebrows immediately came together in confusion. "I told you, I will try to – " She began to say.
"No." He interjected sharply, making her immediately snap her lips shut. "I fuckin' mean it – ya can't go, do ya understand? Promise me that ya won't." He demanded next.
Klara gulped as an uncomfortable feeling settled within her bones. She already knew something was going to happen at the premiere, Shoshanna had told her so herself. But had the Basterds somehow become involved in this plan or were they simply carrying out a mission of their own? "Donny, you are worrying me. What is wrong?"
"I wanna hear ya say it, Bathurst." He demanded gruffly. "Promise me that ya won't be anywhere near that theater tomorrow." With a frown, Klara opened her mouth to begin demanding answers from him. But Donny seemed to realize that she was about to do this very thing and cut her off again. "Goddammit woman, for once in ya life stop bein' a stubborn-ass and just do what I ask!" He said impatiently. When he saw that his snappish tone had offended her, he tried a different tactic. "It's gonna be dangerous at that premiere and I can't stand the thought of ya bein' there, alright?" He finally admitted. "Just…please don't go."
Though Klara was under the distinct impression that he wasn't telling her everything, she decided not to argue with him any further just then. "I will do absolutely everything I can not to attend the premiere." She agreed slowly, nodding her head. "You have my word."
Donny let out a sigh of relief before he swooped in and claimed her lips in a fierce kiss. The intensity of it surprised her some but she recovered quickly and returned the gesture just as fervently, threading her fingers into his hair as he pulled her close and held on to her as though he never wanted to let her go. A sound of approval welled up in his throat at her ministrations as he locked his hands underneath her rear and hauled her into the air, anchoring her against him before beginning to head in the direction of her bedroom.
Their lovemaking was different this time. Klara had never once been unsatisfied when making love with Donny, in fact being with him left her feeling far more satiated then she'd ever thought could be possible, but this time Donny took his time with her. Unlike in the past, he didn't seem to care that they only had a short while and there was no frenzied rush to rid each other of clothes or reach that final moment of completion – they made love slowly, passionately, clinging to each other desperately and whispering sweet words of love as they worked towards that final precipice together. Even though Klara had been certain she'd figured out all there was to know about Donny in the months that she'd known him, this was a side to him she'd never seen before. His eyes held hers the entire time they made love, his lips constantly showered every inch of her skin with tender affection, his fingers remained interlaced with her own as he reminded her over and over again how much he loved her – she'd never felt so wholly connected to another human being.
But as they lay in bed afterwards, both thoroughly exhausted but trying valiantly not to fall asleep, Klara felt a real fear beginning to creep into her mind. Because try as she might, she could not shake the feeling that this night – him coming to her when he knew it was dangerous, their passionate lovemaking, the constant reminders of love – was Donny's way of saying his goodbyes.
Between Shoshanna's plans and now the Basterds', Klara knew the premiere was going to be dangerous. But was Donny going to be directly involved in something and just couldn't find the courage to tell her about it? The thought that he had come just so that he could have one last night with her had her heart twisting violently, but as the sunlight finally began to creep in through her window and Klara lifted her head from his chest to look at him, he seemed completely at peace. His eyes were closed as he lounged in her bed, his chest was rising and falling evenly, and he looked the picture of relaxation – surely if he had come to say goodbye then he wouldn't be this peaceful, right?
"Donny?" Klara asked gently. He stirred a bit and opened his warm, brown eyes, peering at her curiously as he waited for her to speak. "What does Aldo have planned for tonight?"
Donny sighed and tightened his hold on her, frowning to himself while his fingers absentmindedly traced circles over her back. "I don't know if I should tell ya that, Klare."
Klara sighed and sat up a bit more so she could look him directly in the eye. "You should know that Shoshanna has something planned." She revealed. "She came to me two nights ago and told me so herself." Donny's eyebrows shot up at this. "Shoshanna did not go into detail but I believe she plans murder for Landa and the Third Reich. So whatever it is that you feel you have to do…perhaps, in actuality, you do not?" She offered lamely, hoping in vain that the knowledge of Shoshanna's plans would somehow change whatever plans he may have.
No such luck – Donny immediately frowned and then shook his head. "This is different, Klare. Its bigger then Landa, bigger then the Third Reich. What we've got planned…it has to be done." She was just about to ask him what could possibly be bigger then Landa and the Third Reich when a horn sounded out in the street. Donny heaved, pressed a kiss to her forehead, then moved out of bed so that he could take a look out of the window. "Utivich and Omar are here." He told her, his voice taking on a strange tone. "I have to go."
Klara felt rooted to her spot on the bed as she watched him move about her room and begin pulling on his clothes. The feelings of worry and dread were mounting so greatly within her that she almost began to feel sick from the overwhelming emotions, but she could not force a word past her lips. She didn't want to see Donny go, couldn't bear the thought of him walking out of her door never to return again, but couldn't put a voice to her fears. When Donny was finally dressed he came to the bed so that he could give her a long, love filled kiss, and when he pulled away there was an unreadable expression on his face that she simply could not decipher. He raised a hand to her face, brushed an errant blonde lock of hair away, and let out a heavy sigh.
"I love ya, Klare. Very much."
She had to gulp past a lump in her throat. "And I love you, Donny Donowitz. More then I ever thought could be possible."
Donny smirked at her in return, looking like himself again for a split second, then kissed her forehead before standing to his feet and heading for the door to her bedroom. He paused so that he could look at her over his shoulder for a long, lingering moment, then nodded to her once in departure before stepping into the hallway. She realized then that he was leaving and, for all she knew, this could be the last time she might ever see him. It was as though everything has suddenly clicked into place and she knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, that Donny had come to say his final goodbyes. He had no intentions of walking back out of that premiere tonight but hadn't been able to tell her. She was never going to see him again, their child would never know his or her father.
Their child!
Suddenly there was life in her limbs again. As Donny disappeared from sight Klara jumped to her feet, scrambling around to find something to throw on before chasing after him. "Donny, wait!" She said desperately, practically falling into the hallway in her haste to catch up with him. He froze at the end of the hall and turned to face her – she thought she spied a pained expression on his face for the briefest of seconds. "Do not think me a fool." Klara continued, hurrying up to him. "You do not plan to return, do you?"
"Klare – "
"Tell me the truth." She cut in quickly, fighting against the emotion welling up inside of her. "After everything we have been through, I deserve to know the truth."
Donny heaved and then shook his head. "Nobody goin' in to that theater's coming back out, Klare." He finally admitted slowly.
It was all of her worst fears confirmed – Donny was going on a suicide mission. As tears immediately filled her eyes Donny closed the gap between them and wrapped her up in his arms, whispering words of apology over and over again in her ear. But she did not hear them. All she could think of was the fact that she would never see him again after this moment. The man that had stolen her heart, that had made her feel alive again and had helped create the baby growing inside of her, was going to die tonight. Klara felt like her heart had been launched up into her throat as she clung to him tightly, felt like a part of her was being ripped to shreds. How could this be? Why, when there had been so much hope for them, was this their end?
A horn blared again outside, interrupting the moment. "Klare – " Donny started regretfully.
"You must not do this." Klara immediately argued, tightening her grip on him when he tried to disentangle himself from her. She knew it was selfish of her to demand such a thing, but she simply couldn't stop herself. "You must come back – you have to come back to me, Donny!"
"I…I can't – " He started again in a thick voice.
"You can." Klara interrupted yet again. Then she grabbed his hand and pressed it desperately against her stomach. "For us." For a long moment Donny didn't seem to understand what she had just told him. But then, as her words sunk in and realization dawned on him, his eyes went extremely large and his jaw fell in shock. There was a stretch of silence where neither dared to say anything, then Klara finally mustered up the courage to speak again. "I – I wanted to tell you." She told him guiltily. "But I was afraid."
"You…you…you're…" Donny managed out through heavy heaves for air.
"Pregnant." Klara confirmed with a timid nod. "It was why I was so sick."
Klara fell silent after that and waited to hear what Donny would have to say. Would he be angry? Would he be happy? Would the knowledge that he was going to be a father be enough to sway his decision about the night's events? But Donny didn't say anything – after what felt like an eternity he simply dropped to his knees in front of her, grasped her by the waist, and buried his face against her stomach. Klara smiled as a few tears went trekking down her cheeks and rested a hand on the back of his head, cradling him to her as his shoulders began to tremble a little bit. When she felt him press a kiss against her stomach, she felt a renewed sense of hope.
"Do you see now? You are going to be a father, Donny – we are going to be a family."
In the next moment, as Donny got to his feet again, Klara was certain that she'd managed to convince him not to go through with this mission. There was a small smile on his face, a gleam in his eye again, and it was obvious that the news he was going to be a father had made him happy. He lifted a hand up to rest on the side of her neck before pressing a kiss to her lips. "Thank you." He said quietly, his free hand running over her stomach.
Then he pulled away from her and headed for the door, making her frown in confusion. "Donny?"
He paused by the door with his back turned to her. "Get out of town, Klare. Make sure our baby is safe no matter what." He instructed, casting a stern look at her over his shoulder.
Klara took a few steps in his direction, her dread returning. "And what of you?" She asked fearfully. "Surely you will not go tonight, not now!"
Donny squared his shoulders and reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly. "I'll do what I have'ta in order for you and the baby to make it outta this mess alive." He said resolutely, finally pulling the door open. "I love ya, Klare…but I'm makin' sure this war is over tonight."
And with that being said and before Klara could move fast enough to try and stop him again, Donny walked out of the door and slammed it shut behind him. For a moment she stood there in shock, unable to believe that he had just left her the way that he had, before she raced for the door. But it was no use – as she opened the door, prepared to call for him and beg for him to stay, he was already getting into a car that the two Basterds named Utivich and Omar had arrived in before the three of them drove off and disappeared from sight.
Klara didn't know how long she cried for after Donny left her.
The minutes and hours ticked by, the world outside of her home came to life and went about its day as usual, but she remained on her couch and crying her eyes out until she simply had no more tears left to cry. The life that she'd dreamed of, where she and Donny were both alive, away from this mess, and raising their child together in a time of peace, had been viciously ripped away from her in the blink of an eye. Someday she might be able to forgive Donny for his decision to see his mission carried through, but right then she could only feel angry with him. After everything that they'd been through, despite the fact that she'd begged him not to leave her and that she was pregnant with his child, he'd still chosen to participate in the suicidal mission that he'd been handed. It wasn't fair – not to her and certainly not to their unborn baby.
At some point she managed to drag herself to the bathroom to try and clean her face and she had to cringe when she spied her reflection – the woman blinking back at her was not Klara Bathurst at all. This woman looked the picture of depression and was a pitiful sight to behold, not the usual put together Klara that was full of hope and yearning for a brighter day.
So lost was Klara in her turmoil that she didn't even notice as the day dragged on further and further, coming ever closer to the time allotted for the dreaded premiere. That was why when a knock sounded on her door around six o'clock that she was caught quite off guard. She'd been lying in her bed, unable to do much but stare blankly at the ceiling above her and try desperately to cling to anything that still held Donny's scent, and had not expected company. A flash of hope crashed through her as she thought that perhaps Donny had changed his mind and come back for her, and it was enough to send her to her feet and hurrying towards her front door. But when she yanked it open, praying that she'd be greeted with the sight of the man she loved, all of her hope was immediately dashed.
Kurt Bathurst was staring back at her with a quirked eyebrow.
"Why have you not gotten ready?" Kurt asked in a gruff tone, eyeing her critically. "The premiere starts in an hour."
Klara opened and closed her mouth for a moment or two, trying to remember how to speak while simultaneously trying to think of a way that she could get out of this situation. She wanted to curse herself for having sat around wallowing in her self-pity for so long – Donny had told her to get out of town and she'd had all day to do so. Now she was being confronted by Kurt and unsure how to get out of having to attend that God forsaken premiere with him.
"Well?" Kurt demanded impatiently.
"I – I told you last night." She finally managed out in their native language. "I am not well. Perhaps it would be better if I would not attend."
Kurt let out a long heave and she could clearly see him grinding his teeth in annoyance. "Hans informed me that herr Goebbels is expecting us – both of us." He told her in a measured tone. "Have you any idea how poorly it would reflect on the both of us should you not be on my arm tonight?"
Klara chewed at the inside of her cheek, trying to hamper down her own feeling of irritation with Kurt. The man would truly do anything to make himself look better, no matter the cost. "I have told you, brother, I am ill – do you not see me right now?" She demanded, motioning to herself. "I would make no good impression tonight in this state. I offer my sincerest apologies for not attending and you may tell herr Goebbels so. Now, I must get back into bed. Have a good evening, Kurt."
Though she knew being short with him wasn't exactly the best idea, sometimes being straightforward (and rather uncouth) was the only way to get through to him. But as she started to shut the door in his face, Kurt apparently was going to have none of her behavior – he blocked the door with his foot before pushing his way in roughly. Klara jumped back in surprise as he barged his way into her house and slammed the door behind him, pinning her into place with a glare.
"How dare you treat me in such a manner?" He growled at her. "After all that I have done for you?" She tried to speak up, but he cut her off before a word could get past her lips. "You are the most ungrateful woman I have ever known, Klara, and I am sorely disappointed in you." He continued on. Then he grabbed her forcefully by the arm and began dragging her back to her bedroom despite her protests. "But you will not disappoint me anymore from this day forward. You will dress, you will make yourself presentable, and you will attend this premiere with me whether you like it or not."
They'd reached her bedroom by now and he flung her inside carelessly, not paying her any mind as she stumbled and nearly went toppling face-first to the ground. She watched helplessly as he stomped over to her wardrobe and pulled out the dress that she'd hidden away, yanking it free from its confines before tossing it at her – the ugly sneer on his face made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and she had no choice but to scramble to catch the dress. "Kurt – "
"Dress - now." He snapped, making her jump. Then he swiftly made for the bedroom door. "I shall be just outside the bedroom door. We leave no later then six-forty-five, so I suggest you hurry, sister." Just before he left he turned back to face her and, for a moment, she was positive she had spotted a look of disgust on his face. "And be sure that your…mask…is firmly intact, Klara." He practically spat at her. "You might find yourself in great need of it tonight."
And with that he slammed the bedroom door shut.
Klara heaved for air, trying to fight through her tears, and stared at the door for a long moment. She knew Kurt could be cold and unforgiving, but this was far different from any past behavior. Had Landa gotten to him? Did he know something? She sucked in a shaky breath before finally beginning to change into her dress for the evening, seeing no way of possibly getting out of this situation.
Though she had no idea what Donny and the Basterds had planned for the premiere, it seemed that she might not haveseen her love for the last time after all – Klara would be attending the premiere of Stolz der Nation whether she liked it or not.
I'm becoming so obsessed with this story all over again. Reivew!
