So after the most epically horrible case of writer's block known to mankind, I'M BAAAAACK! I didn't cover everything I really wanted to in this chapter, but when I tried it looked like crap, so I cut a few bits to be moved to the next few chapters. I'm so sorry about the wait, I hope you'll forgive me!
Still don't own Spring Awakening, nor can I bargain with Frank Wedekind for the rights. *sigh*
"Is that all of it?"
"Yes Hanschen, that's everything." Ernst said breathlessly, doing up the clasps on his suitcase. "Should we leave a note?"
"A note?" Hanschen's voice rose an incredulous octave. "Yes, I'm sure we can gloss this whole ordeal over with a note." he regretted the harshness of his tone immediately. "I'm sorry Ernst. You've done nothing to deserve this."
"It's fine, but I thought I should leave them with something, I know my mother will worry no matter what I've done." he shrugged, trying to seem unconcerned.
Hanschen sighed wearily at Ernst's sentimentality. "Look, if you really think it's a good idea, go ahead and leave a note. Just please be brief on the technicalities, alright?"
Ernst nodded gratefully and began scribbling onto a slip of paper, the scratching of the pen on paper becoming the only audible sound. It was an awfully long note, Hanschen noticed after the clock in the hall struck a quarter-past midnight, but he decided against saying anything. Finally, the scribbling ceased and the folded page was placed on an end table for Herr and Fraulein Robel to discover. "I'm ready now." Ernst whispered. They rose, shuffled around a little as they arranged bags over their shoulders, and, with one last glance around the house, turned to leave.
Hanschen opened the door to find himself staring straight into a pair of sharp, gray eyes.
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"Gabor?" Hanschen stepped back in surprise.
"Relax." Melchior whispered, pushing past him. "I'm on your side, what they're doing out there," he jerked a thumb at the door behind him, "It's sick. I made the mistake-yet again-of speaking up and...well, that's actually why I'm here. Ilse told me-"
"You still talk to Ilse?" Ernst cut in.
"Indeed. She kept me sane between what...happened with Wendla and the endless shit at the Reformatory. Anyway, she told me you two were heading off tonight but you didn't know where to go."
The couple exchanged a glance. Reluctant as they were to add on a third member to their trip, they truly had no idea what they were doing, and Melchior was the last person who would have an ulterior motive for helping them. "Well..." Ernst began hesitantly, "We do that issue to solve, yes. Do you have anywhere particular in mind?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. I found it when I ran from the reformatory, we could reach it by morning if we hurry. They'll take care of you until you figure out something more...permanent."
"What's the catch?" Hanschen inquired, eyebrow cocked.
"Well, everyone has their role to play in the community, you'll be expected to perform certain services. Also, certain members may not be very accepting towards your situation."
They thought it over for a moment before Ernst answered. "I'll admit, that's a better offer than we really could've asked for, I think we'll take it." Melchior nodded and gestured at the door, leading the way out of the village to what seemed like freedom.
"-just not sure we should trust him." whispered Hanschen, walking just far enough behind Melchior to remain out of earshot. "How do we know he's not leading us to the reformatory?"
The raven-haired boy beside him simply shrugged. "We don't. But think about it, he's been in our position before. The people we're running from are the reason he lost his best friend, his child, Wendla. I seriously doubt he'd sell us out after that. Besides, he likes me."
"But what if he thinks the reformatory is the safest place for us?"
The question hung in the air for awhile. Ernst thought back to the first time Melchior had dared re-enter the village, how lost he'd looked, how hollow. Something about the place had changed him, taken the inquisitive spark out of his eyes. "No." he said finally, "He'd never think that."
The sun had risen over the horizon when Melchior finally stopped in front of a large, albeit ramshackle wood building. Without a word, he sauntered to the door and knocked twice. There was a scuffling of feet from inside before the door opened and a whirlwind of red hair, bare feet and squeals exploded onto him. "Ilse!" he cried, covering her face with...Kisses? Was Melchior the one she'd been seeing?
"What the hell?" Hanschen exclaimed, though not angrily, in fact he was almost laughing.
"Oh..." Ilse's cheeks went scarlet in the new light as she disentangled herself from Melchior. "I...I'll explain. Come in!"
Yes, that's right. I ship Melchi/Ilse! I honestly think that without Moritz and Wendla they'd turn to eachother, so there you have it! I might write a companion story to this that focuses on that pairing, I'm not sure yet. Please review!