Hello all you lovely people!
My apologies for the super long delay for this update, I've been struggling with some serious health issues. But let me tell you, remission is great. Like really great. So I'm back!
But enough about me, you've done enough waiting. Get reading!
Ludwig didn't know how long he stayed curled up on the shower floor, with the icy water streaming through his hair and into his eyes. An hour, two, three, he didn't know and didn't care. When he finally tried to move to stand, his legs were stiff and his feet cold, and they wouldn't support his weight. He only crumbled to his hands and knees on the slick tile more exhausted than when he first started. All of the strength in his body had fled. His shoulders couldn't stop shaking, no matter how hard he tried to steady himself.
The world was spiraling out of his control. Everything was so wrong. In fact, it nearly felt as if it were not life at all. Not life, but a mere existence in time and space.
His body felt as if it were ripped in two. His heart, his very soul ached with this fresh and gaping wound.
The image of Gilbert's eyes was seared in the forefront of Ludwig's mind. Wide open. Glazed over. Dull. Lifeless. He couldn't free himself from the empty stare. Those eyes, always sparkling with both unbridled passion and an underlying gentleness, instead gazed out into empty space, seeing nothing, and yet strangely, seeing everything.
Ludwig promptly threw his body forward and vomited what little was left on his stomach up onto the slick tile. His body shuddered as he heaved and retched, sour bile dripping from his lips. Hot tears stung at his eyes and mingled with the cold water that ran down his face.
Ludwig was emptied of himself. He felt nothing, yet every emotion imaginable. He thought that his body would both explode, rip into shreds, and cave in all at once. He tried to ask himself how one man could hold so much inside of himself and survive, and he came to the conclusion that a man couldn't. It would kill him slowly and painfully and reduce him to an empty shell of flesh and bone. This feeling… It stripped a person of their humanity.
With every passing second, he felt himself die just a little bit more. His life was slipping through his fingers, and he was watching it fade away in complete misery.
He had lost his brother, his best friend, his rock, his right hand, his other half. Never had he felt so helpless in his life, never had he felt so alone.
But he hadn't just lost Gilbert. No, Monika was gone as well. Both lives snuffed out in an instant with the flash of a gun. And Miriam… She might as well be out of his reach as well. There was no way that he would be able to take her away from here safely, not after this.
If Germany won this war, then he could kiss her goodbye too. In fact, he had probably signed her death certificate the moment that he swept her and her sister off of their feet that bloody day in the village of Oradour-sur-Glane.
Had he thought that that split second decision would lead to all of this?
No.
Had he thought that he would fall in love with these two little girls and end up loving them more than he loved the woman that he thought that he was going to marry?
No.
Had he thought at all?
Absolutely not.
If he was honest with himself, Ludwig hadn't thought about his ex-fianceé at all since he received Eva's letter in the mail that informed him of her feelings for him, or lack thereof. He just simply had been focused on more pressing and important matters, nothing more. But wasn't this exactly what she had said? "Germany has taken the place in your heart that I thought was mine", those were her words, were they not?
Ludwig shook his head. He hadn't realized just how true her words rang until now. It wasn't fair for her, it wasn't fair for him, it wasn't fair for anyone. Nobody won like this.
But he had lost everything now. His fianceé was gone, his brother was dead, Monika was dead, Miriam was as good as dead.
It was all so wrong, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Ludwig bent his neck back so that his face was pelted by the stream of icy water from the showerhead. His eyelids were cool against his bloodshot eyes. His lips, which were slightly parted, let water drip onto his tongue, water that tasted like rust.
"God, why did it have to happen this way?"
The tiny whisper was drowned out by the water that rushed into his mouth and the murky gray light around him.
As like every other time he had beseeched the Creator, there was no answer, nothing outside of bathroom echoes, running water, and the sound of his own splintering heart.
Ludwig needed no further confirmation that he was, indeed, alone. If that was the case, then he really had nothing to lose now, did he? He had no more family, he had no friends, there was nobody. It didn't matter what happened to him now. No one was relying on him to come back in one piece or to even come back at all anymore. There was no one left to care.
That settles it then, he thought.
At eight o'clock in the morning, he would be standing before his superior's desk with a transfer request in his hand. His destination? Vercors Plateau. He had heard word that the fighting against the French Resistance had really picked up in that area in the last few weeks, and there he had a chance to do what he did best. Probably better now, actually.
Nothing to lose, after all.
-x-x-x-
The next morning at ten minutes until eight, Ludwig sat in the hall outside of his new superior's office on one of three wooden chairs that were set up along the wall just beside of the door. His uniform was spotless and pressed to perfection just as it always had been. His arms were crossed, his crystal blue eyes stared unflinchingly at a crack in the wall, and his knee jumped up and down with a rapid beat. Clutched between his fingers was his formal written request for a transfer of duty station. If anyone had seen him in the empty hallway, they would have assumed that the imposing German was nervous about this upcoming meeting. In reality he was eager with anticipation. Ludwig had no lingering doubts that his request for a transfer would be granted. He was asking to go into a fierce combat zone that no one in their right mind would volunteer for, and he had a stellar record to follow him, so he was confident that he would be received with open arms without problem or delay. The brass would understand him needing to leave. He was positive that the story of his Jew-loving Nazi brother had spread to the higher ups like wildfire, and they would understand him 'needing to escape the sphere of his traitorous brother's influence'.
The very sentence made Ludwig want to vomit.
The sooner I get out of this city, the better, he thought. I can't stand to be here anymore. I see him around every corner, lying against the wall, his blood running into the street… I can't even go back to care for his body without giving myself away. He's just going to lay there in the gutter and rot and I can't do a thing about it…
Ludwig shook his head to clear the image from his mind's eye, but just as always, it was no use. He sighed and rubbed the quickly welling tears out of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
Playing the apathetic brother is impossible. The sooner I get away from these people, the better off I'll be. I just hope the subject of this meeting stays on my transfer request and doesn't wander to Gil. If it does, I'm not sure how well I can hold it together and keep playing this despicable part.
The door to Ludwig's left squealed open. He looked up and saw a young receptionist in the doorway, clipboard in her hand. She read from the paper in front of her, then looked up to greet Ludwig.
"SS-Sturmanbannführer Beilschmidt?"
Ludwig stood quickly to his feet and tucked his cap under his left arm. The girl smiled, then glanced down at the clipboard again.
"You're early."
Ludwig nodded, forced a smile, then replied, "Better ten minutes early than ten minutes late, I say."
The secretary nodded, scribbled something on the clipboard with a short pencil, then beckoned for him to follow her through the door. Once inside of her small office, she pointed to a large oaken door to her left. "Brigadeführer Lammerding will see you now."
Ludwig thanked her and strode across her office to the door. He rested a hand on the door's handle and paused to take a breath.
You can do this, Lud. You've got to sell it.
He turned the brass handle, pushed the door in with his shoulder, and stepped into the plushly furnished office space.
Showtime.
Ludwig plastered on a stern look and stopped just inside of the doorway. He clicked his heels together and threw his right arm forward into the salute of the Party. "Heil Hitler," he barked, while trying to swallow the nausea that swept through his gut.
Brigadeführer Heinz Lammerding, a harsh and imposing-looking man in his early forties, waved off Ludwig's salute from where he sat deeply in his chair behind his large maple desk. Ludwig lowered his arm and placed it at the small of his back, waiting for permission to approach. He glanced down at how his superior's uniform cap had been placed gently in the front corner of his impeccably organized desk, and Ludwig instantly felt himself fall under a scrutinizing eye. The man had one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, and his fingertips were pressed together in thought. His eyes roamed over Ludwig from top to bottom, inspecting every aspect of him. After a painfully long few seconds the man gestured for Ludwig to sit in one of the two chairs opposite himself that were facing the desk. Ludwig stepped forward and uneasily slid into the dark leather of the chair on the right.
Lammerding wasted no time with small talk. He reached into a drawer on his right and withdrew a file emblazoned with the national emblem, an eagle holding a swastika between its claws, and Ludwig's name along the top. He flipped the folder open and started to absentmindedly leaf through the many pages documenting Ludwig's life as far as the Party was concerned. "I heard that you were requesting to meet with me this morning, so I pulled your file and could hardly believe my eyes. Your service record is impeccable, your men have some of the highest morale on record, you've been awarded the Black Wound Badge, you're being considered for the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross for valor shown in battle, and you are one of the most dedicated officers I've ever seen. I must ask why you've requested this meeting, as I cannot think of a reason myself."
Ludwig cleared his throat and reached forward to hand Lammerding the paper in his hand. "I would like to request a transfer, sir."
Lammerding raised an eyebrow and took the paper, opened it, read, then frowned. "Vercors Plateau? Is there any particular reason why you're requesting a transfer specifically to here?"
Ludwig chewed on his lip for a moment before he answered. "To be honest sir, I need a… Change of scenery."
Lammerding furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, then widened his eyes a moment later when he understood. "Oh," he murmured. "That was your brother?"
Ludwig swallowed hard and nodded. "If you wouldn't mind sir, I'd appreciate it if we did not discuss the matter."
Lammerding nodded in agreement. "I understand. I wouldn't want to discuss such an undermining of Party principles by my own blood either. I couldn't imagine what you must be going through. Such a despicable betrayal." He redirected his attention to the file in front of him just quick enough for Ludwig's flinch to escape detection.
"I see no reason to deny your request," Lammerding sighed as he reached into another drawer of his desk and fished out a transfer form. He withdrew a fountain pen from its place on his desk and filled the form out quickly and stood to his feet to hand it to Ludwig before the ink had time to dry. "You leave Monday morning. Best of luck." Ludwig took the form in his hand, thanked Lammerding, and turned to leave. Lammerding's voice from behind stopped him, however.
"Heil Hitler," the officer said.
Ludwig stopped, clenched his jaw, turned to his superior, and replied with a smile.
"Heil Hitler."
He hoped that he would never have to say that name again.
Gosh it's good to be back. You know the drill, if you liked the update, then please leave a review. Or shoot me a PM, I love to talk. About anything, really. You like bagels? Great, me too! Let's talk about that. You struggling through something in your life and just need someone to talk to or just an ear to listen, or living with an illness like me? I'm always here and always ready to help. Seriously. I care about my readers, and if there's anything that I can do to help you out, then I will gladly do it.
I can't thank you all enough for your time and faithfulness to keeping up with my stories. You're the best!
Love as always,
HarleyMarie