Oh my goodness...It's the last official chapter! (I will add an epilogue, but, yeah...) Thanks SO much to everyone who Read and/or Reviwed this, you were the force that pushed me to finish this! This is the first story over Five chapters that I've actually FINISHED, and that's thanks to you guys. I hope you enjoy the rest of it! :) 3
The plan is awful, even worse than the one that landed them all here. Maxim and Joel's solution is to sacrifice their lives by disguising themselves as Hanschen and Ernst, as if Herr Robel wouldn't notice... And even if he didn't, nobody was willing to let them be burned at the stake for crimes they didn't commit. Granted, none of what happened should have been counted as a crime, but there wasn't much they could do about that. Yes, it was true that Maxim had the same blonde hair, piercing eyes, and solid build as Hanschen while Joel carried the same dark hair and pale skin as Ernst, but Joel's eyes were green, not brown, and Maxim's face was to soft to be Hanschen. It simply wouldn't work, and while they were touched at how much the two were willing to sacrifice, they didn't want it to. The plan went out the window along with most of their hope.
No one was certain how long they sat inside the attic. Occasionally a man with hair as red as Ilse's would bring them fruit or bread and water, but he left quickly and without speaking. Despair reigned in the dark air of the room, chased away only when Ilse broke the silence to sing quietly. For the most part Ernst and Hanschen simply held each other close and wondered why they haven't been burned at the stake yet. Hanschen, ever the strong one, clings to sound of Ernst's whispered prayers and hopes that they're working, and he also hopes nobody notices when he wakes from dreams of torment panting and covered in a sheen of cold sweat. (Ernst does, but keeps quiet.) Nobody else from the house in the woods arrives and it's decided they never will.
The man with the red hair had a name, Yero. He couldn't remember a time when he didn't work for Herr Robel, though it was often out of sight from the rest of the family, and he couldn't remember a time that he didn't hate it. He had known Ernst's secret almost a year before the Hanschen incident, and had made it a goal of his to protect the boy. Hanschen wasn't the only one in love with him.
Yero wasn't sure when he himself had discovered he was...different, but there were many boys in his heart, and no girls. He supposed that was something to be kept under wraps, and Ernst's beating (which had been an incredible torture for him) had only reinforced that belief. The image of blood striping across Ernst's shoulders wasn't something he could easily forget, but even more memorable was the guilt he had felt at standing by, helpless. When he heard they'd been found, he vowed to help them this time, no matter the cost. The question was simply: How? It became clear after two days that it would take drastic measures and now the true question was: how dirty was he willing to get his hands?
The damned man didn't sleep, at least not soundly. Five times Yero attempted to sneak into the attic at night. Five times he heard the creak of floorboards from Herr Robel's room and quickly ducked into darkness. His strategy then turned to tiring him out during the day, with endless streams of questions, requests for help with some of his tasks, and generally being a nuisance. After a week, he knew it had worked when he found Herr Robel slumped unconcious on his study table, in the kind of sleep that involves eye twitches, snores, and waking up a good ten hours later, if they were lucky. Yero bit back a laugh and retrieved the pistol he had bought so many years ago with a month's wages and crept up the stairs to the attic. Melchior seemed to be the only one awake, but he quickly caught on to Yero's signal and began shaking the others, pressing a finger to his lips to keep them silent. Hanschen led Ernst out first, then Ilse, Maxim, Joel, and Melchior brought up the rear. As always, Yero felt a pang when he saw Ernst's hand in Hanschen's, but he brushed it aside and began to lead the group downstairs.
Herr Robel was waiting for them at the bottom, knife in hand.
"What is this?" he sneered coldly.
"We're leaving." Hanschen, Melchior, and Yero replied in eerie unison. Yero, being at the front, took over. "You have no right to imprison anyone like this, and frankly I'm through working for you. You've never been anything more than an ignorant, cowardly, ba-" he ceased speaking at the touch of an icy blade on his throat.
"You will all return to the attic now, or I will personally make sure your deaths are slow, painful, and public. Do you understand me?"
"Empty threat."
Herr Robel whipped around to Ernst. "What did you just say, boy?"
Ernst stepped forward ignoring Hanschen's grip on his arm. "I said that's an empty threat. You've known Melchior, Ilse, Hanschen, and Yero for years now, Maxim and Joel are innocents and you now it, and I...I'm your goddamn son. You aren't that cruel."
For the briefest of instants, there was a flash of understanding, of sympathy even, in Herr Robel's face as he looked at his son, as if he was questioning his own motives. Then, just as quickly, the hatred returned and Ernst was somehow flat on his back, doe eyes wide with terror as he watched the blade rise-
Yero and Hanschen lunged forward at the same time suddenly unconcerned with their own lives. All that saved Hanschen was that Yero had a fifteen foot advantage on him. There was a collective gasp, then a soft whimper from Ilse as the knife plunged into the space between Yero's shoulderblades. Blood spattered onto Ernst's clothes, and Yero crumpled, lifeless, to the floor. It was Ilse and Joel who snapped out of the shock in half a second, her hands flying the pistol in Yero's pocket while Joel grabbed Herr Robel's wrists, keeping him on the spot.
"Ilse..." Melchior whispered as she lifted the weapon to the man's head, her eyes ablaze.
"He's put us through enough, Mel. It's time we end this." she cocked the gun, then hesitated, fingers shaking.
"Ilse..." Ernst's voice was small, shaky. "Just get it over and done with."
She waited until his face was buried in Hanschen's shoulder before she fired with a small cry.
The smoke cleared, and she carefully pulled Yero's eyelids closed before rushing to Melchior, sobbing. Ernst was beyond any kind of communication, clutching at Hanschen's shirt like a lifeline. Hanschen simply kisses him and whispers that it's all over now, they are safe.