Disclaimer: I no own glee, or grammar good, or syntax good apparently c: Mrs. Coon (My last English Teacher and probably my favorite) would mortified be, lol.
Oh yay! Another chappie coming up and I am so excited. I already have the epilogue to this story started, but the rough draft I have going is subject to change because at the moment it is missing two characters I may or may not include in it depending on how the rest of the story goes, but at least I have everything basically planned out, right? That means I won't have quiet as much writer's block as I normally would have.
Anyways, thanks again for all your guys support, it means more to me then you'll ever know. I may actually write historical fiction with my own original characters someday because of all of you guys. So thank you, and please enjoy this next chapter.
As March 1945 turned into April 1945, the weather got just a degree warmer, the weather turned wet and rainy, and their dwindling supply of fuel for the fires got even smaller.
The biggest change was Blaine's mood. He no longer worried as much. Whatever happened was going to happen, no matter how much he worried about him and Kurt and the end, whenever that would be. He couldn't do anything, stuck behind the guard towers, the electric fences, and the moat around Dachau, so why worry about what you couldn't change.
He even learned to smile again, at least on the inside. His face felt stuck in a perpetual blank state.
Kurt remarked once while they were working that it was lucky that the bodies were in a building so they were dry. That comment at any other time, or any other moment would have sounded too morbid to be coming out of his mouth.
However considering the conditions they were under, it didn't sound morbid at all, it sounded strangely to Blaine like optimism. The silver-lining out of all of this.
He admired Kurt for it. Everyday was a surprise for Blaine. Everyday he noticed something different about Kurt. This just went further to confirm the stirrings he had been having in the back of his mind since sometime back in December. Blaine was like Kurt, and not only was he like Kurt, but he liked Kurt as well. Of that he was sure, he didn't know exactly how Kurt felt about him, but suddenly Blaine couldn't see his future without Kurt in it, in a very big way.
Then something happened to dampen Blaine's brightening mood a little bit.
They ran out of coal!
Blaine's worst nightmare come true! They were sent to their barracks early that day and they were not given food that night. All they could do was lay on their bunks, somewhat silently as guards stood watch outside.
The authority of the camp was tensing, and all of the prisoners could tell something was going to happen, and soon.
The next morning, they were about halfway through April, Kurt and Blaine were shoved toward the Typhus barrack and told, "gather the dead and stack them with the others near the ovens."
Their job had just changed, saving their lives...for now.
Blaine took a deep breath as they walked among the sick and dying, separating the dead from the living.
His second worst nightmare, catching typhus, was suddenly at the forefront of his mind, more so for Kurt than for himself. He was pretty sure Kurt's runny nose was actually pneumonia, making him even more susceptible to typhus.
He watched as Kurt knelt down next to a body and tried to find a pulse, any pulse, hoping he had found a live one. Hoping this person was simply trying to sleep off the fever, a symptom of typhus.
He shook his head and pushed his arms under the legs and head of the body and standing slowly, walked towards the door.
Blaine didn't know how Kurt had the strength to do it, he looked to fragile to be carrying any body, live or otherwise, but somehow he managed it.
Blaine followed Kurt's example and looked for someone who was actually gone before picking them up and carrying them to the pile of bodies.
When they got back to the typhus barrack, there was a 'doctor' there. He pointed to two people and said, "Grab them and follow me."
Kurt and Blaine glanced at each other, before hurrying to grab the still-living skeletons and following the doctor to another barrack close by.
As they entered they saw other prisoners, scattered about, some were shivering from cold, others were sniffling from runny noses. The doctor pointed to two uncomfortable looking cots and said, "There." Then he turned his back to Blaine and Kurt who tried to hurry out of there.
"What are they doing in there?" Kurt asked Blaine.
Blaine looked back at the barrack and said, "I don't know Kurt. I don't think it was anything I want to find out about personally."
Kurt nodded and they continued, along with the other furnace workers, to carry bodies to where the rest of the bodies were stored.
The next morning they were told to russel up the dead from inside their barrack and then do the same with the other barracks before going back to the 'hospital barrack.' Apparently, some of the other barracks had started quarantining themselves because of all the sickness going around.
The hospital barrack held medical supplies, but there were only so many actual doctors in the camp, and half of them didn't have the supplies they needed to help the sick prisoners.
They were also given orders to report to the doctor from the day before and ask if he had anyone who needed moving.
When they asked the doctor, he looked them over and said, "no, none of my patients need to be moved today."
Blaine got chills up his spine as they walked away and went back into the hospital barrack.
As they carried bodies, day in and day out, Kurt grew short of breath more often and Blaine just began to worry all over again. Kurt assured him, he had nothing to worry about. It was natural for him to be out of breath sooner than Blaine. Blaine had been doing this for months while Kurt had simply pulled open a heavy oven door, pushed in a rack and let the door swing shut. It was a lot less strenuous physically than what Blaine had been doing for 5 or so months.
When Blaine remembered he'd only been there for 5 months, give or take a few days, he sighed and felt his bones ache. He felt more tired than he ever had in his lifetime.
Kurt patted his shoulder sympathetically and went in search of his next corpse.
They continued working through the week and Blaine thought to himself grimly, fuel we may run out of, but bodies are endlessly supplied to us.
Their days became routine to them again, and while Blaine watched out for Kurt and always made sure he could handle carrying the body he had found before selecting his own, he knew that if the SS guards were going to decide it was Kurt's time, there was not really much he could do. All he could hope, was that he would be killed beside Kurt.
Blaine knew if the camp ever was liberated, he and Kurt would be the first to be taken care of by the guards, before the camp was turned over in surrender. The NAZIs couldn't afford to have to many living witnesses of their crimes.
One morning, Blaine woke up and looked around. People were crawling out of their bunks over their bunk mates that had died during the night. They were moving the diseased prisoners and the dead bodies out of their barracks and into their respected piles.
There had been a strange lull in work for those that weren't carrying bodies or taking care of the sick. They had not been completely work free, but Blaine could tell something was up. There was a change in the guards attitudes. They seemed, nervous, as if they had received some bad news the night before and were still trying to figure out how to handle it.
Blaine and Kurt held a silent conversation as they transported bodies, through the looks they were giving one another, about the change in mood of the guards and indeed the whole camp.
Both boys vaguely heard a train pull up next to the camp that morning, blowing its whistle, but their minds didn't completely register that it was there. Whatever it was it didn't concern them. They heard several shots fired that day, just outside the camp, but they were too used to the sound of gunshots to really be phased.
What really surprised the boys and jolted them out of their routine, took place later that day, some time during the afternoon.
Shots were heard being fired from a guard tower, but they were not shooting down into the camp as they normally did. This particular guard tower was near one of the gates that led into Dachau.
Almost at the same time as the gunfire, on the other side of the camp, at the main gates, 3 men, two SS officers and a Swiss Red Cross officer entered the camp holding a white flag attached to a stick. Following them was a green jeep with three men dressed in green camouflage. Another jeep with three other men began entering the camp at the same time, and the prisoners cautiously walked out towards the fence that separated them from this miraculous sight.
The shooting from the other side of the camp stopped and Blaine and Kurt set down the bodies they were carrying to walk over towards the fence. Many of the prisoners were crowding around the fence now, hoping for a glimpse at what many of them were realizing, were their liberators!
Kurt strained unsteadily on his feet for a look at their saviors. Blaine became distracted by the attempt at a smile on Kurt's face, and cautiously, nervously even, Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand, giving it a slight squeeze.
Kurt stopped craning his neck and looked down at their hands, before looking up at Blaine, unsure if this was all actually happening.
Blaine was glad Kurt had stopped watching the fence, because at that moment, one of the prisoners fell into the fence and died from the electric shock still coursing through the chain-link metal.
However, Blaine saw this and protectively, pulled Kurt away from the fence, a little bit worried about the pushing crowd. On the other side of the fence, the men in the jeeps were yelling at the guards and were ordering the men down from the guard towers and the electric fence turned off.
Kurt noticed a commotion going on behind them and Blaine turned around to see what had Kurt so distracted.
A boy, about their age, although it was hard to tell since he was half-starved, along with a few other inmates were hurrying as quickly as they could towards the guards still on their side of the fence. They were latching onto the guards, pulling at their clothes and bashing their heads in with rocks and their bare hands, then when the guard stopped putting up a fight, the prisoners left them on the ground for dead.
Soon, more and more soldiers in green camouflage were entering the camp from two different directions and Kurt had started crying he was so relieved.
Blaine, still holding Kurt's hand, pulled him out of the way and they sat down on the ground, leaning against one the barracks.
He was so tired, and so relieved, it hurt. His mind and body were being flooded with more emotions than he had felt in so many months, they were giving him a headache.
Kurt leaned against Blaine's shoulder, his eyes already drooping as he realized he could rest for now and no one was going to yell at him. Blaine looked down on Kurt's almost serene, pale face, and then tilted his head back to look at the sky, leaning it against the building.
Just then someone walked slowly over to where Blaine and Kurt were. He was dragging his feet and he sat down quite close next to Blaine, who became alert, even though his personal bubble had ceased to exist months ago.
Blaine looked up and paused as he tried to figure out what the face looking down at him would have looked like if it had been healthy. Surprise sparked in his mind as he realized the man sitting down beside him was his father.
The older man looked at his son and studied his features before looking down at the boy who had his head on Blaine's shoulder and his hand in Blaine's.
"Blaine." The man, said, looking away from his son and out across the camp.
Blaine cleared his throat and rasped out quietly, "Father."
They were silent and Blaine felt Kurt slowly losing all consciousness.
"What is that on that boys uniform?" His father asked him.
"A pink triangle." Blaine answered, quietly but clearly.
"So why is he appearing so intimate with you?" His father asked, still able to sound stern, even though they hadn't spoken to one another in months.
"We've been each others company for months-" Blaine began but his father cut him off.
"Is that any excuse? If you let yourself be seen with him, you'll be branded one of them."
Blaine could barely register that they were having this conversation. He and his father had never been the closest. Blaine had always been much more like his mother, leaning towards compassion rather than strict discipline. However, there had never been this feeling of animosity between them. Blaine had always known his father cared about him, even if he didn't always show it.
Now though, those feelings of mutual trust, respect, and love were gone. Replaced with an empty hollow feeling that lingered in the air between them.
"He's my friend. I care about Kurt." Blaine said, defending the fact that he liked Kurt without coming right out and saying he was homosexually inclined.
Blaine's father found he couldn't even bare to look at his son. He no longer had anything further to say and while he still cared about his son, his feelings were confused, muddled and might have been changing. "This goes against something we believe in Blaine. This is not acceptable in our society."
Blaine could do nothing other than shrug slightly before remembering Kurt's head rested on his shoulder.
His father sighed as he strained to get to his feet. He watched his father, feeling emotionless and numb once again, before remembering there was something his father should probably be informed of.
"Dad." His father stopped and looked down with a blank expression on Blaine.
"Mother...she's...gone."
His father simply stared off into the distance for a moment before nodding to himself and walking away. Deep down, Blaine couldn't help but feel his father had already known that. This conversation between them left Blaine believing that his father had felt they were both lost to him the moment they drove under the gates of this godforsaken camp.
Kurt nestled his head a little deeper into Blaine's chest and Blaine watched his father walk away until he couldn't be distinguished from the other prisoners. Then Blaine rested his cheek on top of Kurt's head and closed his eyes tight, holding back the few tears that welled up on his eyelids. He didn't cry for his father as long as he cried for his mother, but he did cry, feeling his father's presence in his life slip away from him.
Okay, so I don't actually hold chapters back for lack of review. Even though at the beginning of the story I did threaten to. Hey, you can't hate me for wanting feedback, can you?
Anyways, I would love it if you guys would continue reviewing and giving me feedback, I absolutely love reviews, they are like my heroine, lol not that I use any of that stuff. So yeah, reviews are lovely and I love to read them!
Thankies for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the story is not quite over yet, THANKS!
OSK