Hello all, thank you to all the readers and adoration to all the reviewers. This week's installment of Stalag 13's "What else can go wrong?" Olympics will include a few scenes, including one with violence(sorry Newkirk). I promise... other things will happen.

Regular disclaimer about how tragic it is that I don't own any rights to Hogan's Heroes and do not make money from the fanfiction that I write. I do however make a lot of great friends through a shared love of geeky things and old shows.

Also, my regular thanks to TinySprite for all her help, to LadyJaye1 for her assistance, to my regular Twitter crew for being awesome and to Bits and Pieces for her constant encouragement.

CHAPTER 5

LeBeau was shouting at Carter who stood hangdog in the barracks. "I know, Louis, I know, I should have kept my mouth shut, I get it! I'm sorry!"

"Don't tell ME! Tell Newkirk who is getting beaten again because you cannot shut up!" LeBeau was furious and refused to calm down. "You might as well be working for the Germans with all the trouble you cause and you're always 'sorry'!"

Kinch stepped between them. "Look, LeBeau, you know Hendrich was probably gunning for Newkirk anyway. Calm down. Carter can't unspeak the words."

LeBeau went to his bunk, still muttering in French. His glare at Carter was still hot.

"I really am sorry." Carter sat on his own bunk and twisted his hands. "What are we going to do?"

Kinch sighed. "We do the same thing as last night. We sit around feeling lousy until Newkirk comes back and we make sure he's okay. I'm sorry, Carter but life in a German POW camp isn't daisies and butterflies."

"I know but..." Carter started to reply.

Uncharacteristically, Kinch cut him off. "But nothing. Go to bed. I swear, if I thought you were even capable of it, I'd order you to keep your mouth shut for twenty-four hours just to teach you how it's done." The short burst of anger passed quickly. "Look, Carter, I don't mean to snap at you. But you're not the only person who wishes they could go running out to the rescue and make things all safe for everyone. So just go to bed."

Carter still had a hangdog expression as he crawled into his bunk and curled up facing the wall. Kinch tried to feel bad about hurting Carter's feelings but he really was irritated about his outburst and guilty himself for not trying to help Newkirk. Logically he knew that stepping up to interfere would probably have resulted in prisoners getting shot. One man stepping forward would have triggered the rest of the prisoners to rise up and even Klink's humane nature wouldn't save them.

Olson appeared at his elbow. "Hey Kinch, don't beat yourself up over this." He shifted uneasily, watching through the window with him. "Old Newkirk can take whatever that Kraut wants to dish out." He lowered his voice. "He knew it was going to happen again."

Kinch met his eyes. "That doesn't make me feel better." He inhaled. "How does he jump out like that, knowing what could happen?"

Olson gave a little rueful shrug. "Because to him, it would be worse to know one of his buddies is going through the pain when he could have stopped it."

Kinch sighed and watched Schultz coming to call for lights-out. "Then why are we standing here when we could have stopped it."

Olson reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "Because we have to think about all the other guys that would have suffered too. Just like Newkirk was thinking of them. He'll be fine. Our Cockney is too stubborn to quit."

H H H H

Once again Newkirk found himself trying to take a beating stoically. Hendrich enjoyed hitting the same bruised spots all over again. The first blows to his ribs had alerted the German to the tape bandages. Newkirk found himself quickly stripped of his uniform blouse and woolen pullover. Otto had gleefully ripped the tape off. Newkirk now got to deal with shivering in the chill as well as the beating.

Newkirk made himself a mental note to only get his ribs wrapped with cloth bandages from now on. Tape was too precious to waste if some Kraut was just going to remove it. Also, it was painful. He was certain that he'd lost a layer of skin with the tape.

A sharp blow into his broken rib made him gasp and cry out in pain. Sadistic. Why were so many German officers sadists anyway? Maybe it was a requirement to move up in the ranks. Of course, officers in general tended towards sadism. Another fist to his swollen jaw made darkness creep into his vision briefly. Why, even RAF officers seemed to be experts at making errant enlisted men miserable. His head snapped back and he felt blood begin to trickle down from his eyebrow. Letting out a soft moan, he struggled weakly in Otto's tight hold.

"Please, herr Major-General," His voice sounded rusty. "Please stop, I'm sorry."

"Liar." Hendrich hissed at him, coming close to glare into his eyes from inches away. "You don't think I am aware that you deliberately provoked me?" Hendrich sneered when Newkirk's eyes widened. "You think I am stupid, ja?"

"N-no... no, herr Major-General please..." Newkirk panicked just a bit. He didn't want to try to outwit a smart Kraut. He really worked better with the stupid ones, or greedy ones. Sadists that were smart were a different species and his brain was entirely too foggy to be having conversations with one right this moment. Dealing with smart Germans was Hogan's job. Why was he doing Hogan's job again? Oh... yes... Carter. Newkirk sighed softly. Perhaps he would give Carter a good thump when he got back to the barracks. That would make him feel immeasurably better. And here the smart Kraut sadist was talking to him and he really should pay attention.

Hendrich leaned closer. "Ja, ja. I knew what you were doing. You wanted to keep me from taking one of your 'pals', ja? Do you feel... responsible for the men here? For your friends?" Hendrich switched sides, still in Newkirk's face. "You wouldn't like it if I sent Otto out to get one of them, would you?"

"No." Newkirk blinked suddenly. Why had he answered the damn Kraut? Don't answer the psychopath. His panic began to intensify. He needed to clear his mind. Wasn't thinking right. Wasn't thinking much at all.

"Nein, you wouldn't want me to punish one of them instead of you? I'll be nice to you." Hendrich stepped back and smiled and that smile had no humor and no happiness in it. "I'll let you pick which of your fellow prisoners you want Otto to get. You tell me which one and Otto will bring him in here and then I'll let you go."

Newkirk stared at him and wondered how many POWs in the camp would take that choice as a chance to punish someone in the camp they didn't like. He thought about the bigot that harassed Kinch every chance he got. About that lousy Italian that spat in LeBeau's soup that time. His eyes narrowed slightly. About that bastard that had lied and gotten Newkirk a long cold thirty days in the cooler for stealing.

"Ja? Now you just tell me a name." Hendrich leaned forward. "Anyone?"

Swallowing carefully, Newkirk shook his head. Hendrich made a questioning noise and he shook his head again. "No. No one."

"Nein. There must be someone..." Now the German paced a short distance and then turned back, snapping his fingers in a mockery of an appearing idea. "Oh I know. That American friend of yours." He watched with pleasure as the color left his victim's face. "Sergeant Carter, I believe. I can just send Otto out to fetch him and we shall continue our lessons with him and you... you can go back to your dirty little bunk and sleep."

"No." Newkirk struggled to control his temper and his breathing. "No, it's fine. I 'aven't learned my lessons yet." He tried to straighten up and Otto's grip tightened and bent him slightly forward. "Uuuhhh... okay, I don't want to name anyone." He wondered if the bones in his arms were able to actually bend as that is what it was beginning to feel like.

"Nein... you wouldn't like it if I had your friend in here instead of you." Hendrich stepped over and looked at him with an intense excitement. "You would prefer to stay here, rather than know your friend was taking your place." Another step and he was again face-to-face. "Why don't you prove how cooperative you can be?"

"Cooperative?" Newkirk tried again to twist further away from the crazy officer but Otto's relentless grip kept him still.

"Ja, Corporal. Either I send Otto out to bring your friend... or you get on your knees and prove just how cooperative you want to be." Hendrich's teeth shone as he smiled again.

Newkirk went cold as he began to realize just how much he'd messed up on his estimates of this particular German. It was going to be a long evening.

H H H H

Kinch's forehead was leaned up against the cold window as he half dozed. Suddenly he could see light as the guest quarters' door opened and shut. Blinking he reached up and rubbed the window glass a bit. Olson had gone back out to try to get close to the building again but had turned back when it was obvious that the guards were more alert tonight. He'd tried using the tunnels and had returned to the barracks again having failed that way as well. Kinch had sent him to bed finally.

Kinch blended into the darkness of the barracks easily. Listening to the familiar noises, he thought most of the men were asleep. He didn't hear Carter's snores which meant he was probably awake and Olson slept only fitfully, tossing and turning. Kinch would bet that LeBeau was wide awake but the Frenchman was too good at pretending to be asleep for Kinch to ever be able to tell.

Moving to the doorway, he cracked it open carefully to peer out. He could see a thin figure on the ground on his hands and knees near the steps of the guest quarters. The quiet of the night meant the sounds of retching were clear even across the compound. The softer noise of a German guard trying to get him onto his feet wasn't clear enough for Kinch to tell exactly which guard it was. He could tell the voice wasn't angry or threatening and tried to relax and wait patiently.

Soon enough he was watching Newkirk staggering across the compound slowly. The German guard turned out to be Langenscheidt and he held Newkirk up by one arm as they walked. As soon as they reached the barracks, Kinch took his friend in hand. "Thanks Langenscheidt." As the door shut firmly, he felt Newkirk begin to collapse and immediately got an arm around his waist to hold him. "Easy... come on." Getting Newkirk into Hogan's empty quarters took a bit longer than he would have liked. "Sit on the bunk... let me get some water." Kinch lit the little oil candle and brought in a bowl of water. By the time he'd walked back into Hogan's quarters, Carter was there as well.

Carter went to his friend. "Hey, Newkirk, are you okay? It's really late, we were all worried..."

"Carter..." Newkirk's voice was low and hoarse. He reached out to put a hand onto Carter's shoulder and drew him in close. "Carter, mate, don't take this wrong. You 'aven't done nothing wrong, okay?" Carter nodded but looked confused. "I need you..." he paused to cough. "Sorry, I need you to leave me the 'ell alone for a while, okay?" When Carter started to protest, Newkirk shook his head gingerly. "Not your fault, but I want you to just stay away from me."

"Oh... oh, okay... then... okay..." Carter sounded hurt but he got up and went to the door. "But... if you need anything..." He stopped and cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm real sorry."

"Not yer fault." Newkirk was bent over clutching his middle as Carter left the room. He retched dryly a couple times but waved Kinch aside. "Is okay, I tossed up everything outside already."

"Newkirk, do I need to get Medic Wilson?" Kinch began to wash the blood away. "Where are you hurt worst?"

There was a soft laugh that held little humor. "I'm fine. Me ribs are pretty bad, they ripped all the tape off them."

"You're not fine." Kinch was quite aware of how good an actor Newkirk was and was perfectly capable of seeing right through even the Cockney's best efforts. Tonight had rattled him. He watched a tremor go through Newkirk's body, making him wince slightly. "Easy..." With the blood washed away, he could see the cut was minor and he settled next to him on the bunk and put one arm carefully around his shoulders to support him. "Tell me, what happened?"

"I... I can't..." His voice choked up for a second. "Just... don't. Hendrich's a monster."

"Yeah, I got that impression." Kinch sat patiently and waited. Newkirk wasn't shrugging him off and that was practically the same as anyone else clinging to him.

After a long moment, Newkirk tried to clear his throat quietly. "Hendrich offered me a chance to pick someone else. The bastard... 'e wanted me to trade places with Carter... I couldn't do that. Not to anyone 'ere but especially not Carter." He coughed again. "Be like tossing a puppy to the wolves."

"Yeah... still, that's hard. It's not your fault though, you never asked for this." Kinch drew him closer. "Just don't start blaming yourself."

"You were right... it's worse than the Gestapo. At least with the Gestapo, I can always choose to tell them what they want to 'ear. Hendrich just wants to 'urt me. Just wants to 'urt someone, nothing else." He swallowed carefully. "And 'ow do I deal with that?"

"You had a choice, Peter. You could have said 'go pick someone else'. You held out for all of us. You held out for Carter. It's the same as holding out against the Gestapo when they want you to betray the Colonel and tell them about the whole operation. You're too strong for any of these Germans." Through the arm around Newkirk's shoulders, Kinch could actually feel the slight relaxing of tensed muscles as the Brit accepted what Kinch told him. It helped that Newkirk usually accepted whatever Kinch told him as truth.

Newkirk's voice dropped to a whisper. "I 'ate Carter. I don't want to, but it's 'is fault..." His voice faltered a moment. "I know it's not right. It's not 'is fault, not really but..." His eyes found Kinch's in the low flickering light. "If 'e comes around me, I'll bite 'is 'ead off and that's not fair."

Kinch tightened his arm very gently. "No, it's not fair but there isn't a lot of fair going around these days. Carter will understand. I can explain it to him."

"No!" Lowering his voice after the one word outburst, Newkirk shook his head. "If Carter knew I was putting up with Hendrich to keep 'im safe, it would kill 'im. I just need 'im to stay away from me."

"Alright." Kinch sat quietly with him for a moment. "You want to tell me what else happened?"

"No."

"You okay?"

"Better." Newkirk tried to take a deep breath and regretted it. "I just want to lie down." He looked at the door and thought about climbing up onto his bunk and thought about having Carter right underneath him and he wanted to sigh in frustration but knew it would simply hurt more.

"You're sure that you're okay?" Kinch wasn't giving in without being certain.

"Yeah, Kinch old man, I don't really 'ave any more injuries than I 'ad last night. Just 'urt twice as much." Newkirk straightened himself up. "Thanks Kinch."

"It's nothing. Also, you should just stay in here. Colonel Hogan wouldn't object and it's a lower bunk. We'll have someone switch with you tomorrow so you don't have to climb."

"Okay." When Newkirk gave in right away, Kinch was even more alarmed at his state of mind.

It only took a few minutes to get him as comfortable as the injuries allowed. Kinch was resolved to sit and wait as long as needed for Newkirk to fall asleep, just in case. But the exhausted man was asleep quickly.

H H H H

End Chapter

Yes I know, sorry Newkirk. Also, poor Carter(although he should not mouth off at times).

Thank you for reading and as always, reviews are always appreciated.