I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

But this isn't about the freak show. This is a love story.

In the Absence of Light, Darkness Prevails

Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

"One day soon, when the land is at peace, I will take you away with me to Italy. We can lose ourselves in the beauty and simplicity of the countryside."

The street along the outdoor cafe was lightly traveled with pedestrians and bicycle riders moving from destination to destination. She nibbled on her fruit and cheese as he sipped coffee across from her.

She smiled happily at him, enjoying the fantasy of leaving behind dismal, heavy Germany and traveling abroad to lighter, brighter lands.

"And what will we do there, Massimo?"

He put down his coffee cup and reached across the table to take her delicate hand in his bigger one.

"I will take your hands in mine in the spring and marry you beneath the orange blossoms."

She stared at him, a crippled, healing woman to a strong and whole man.

"You would . . . marry me?"

He smiled gently.

"It would be the greatest joy of my life, cara mia."

Her eyes glowed. She could not find her voice for several minutes.

"And then what? Would we travel?"

He nodded, relinquishing her hand and returning amicably to his coffee.

"Wherever you wish to go. Carpenters are needed in all corners of the world, I would imagine."

She leaned closer, her attractive face eager and excited.

"America? Could we go to America?"

He smiled, gently, his dark eyes warm and inviting.

"Yes, cara mia. America."

America. It was a land of dreams, for anybody who dreamt of lights and stardom.

And freedom.

America. With Massimo.

It was a beautiful dream.

She decided to enjoy it a while longer.

And her fruit.

Some of Massimo's possessions had been damaged during the move from Berlin to Munich.

"Massimo, why do you keep these old things?" she inquired one day. "They are ragged and worn."

He glanced up from his work with the factory worker's wooden arm. It had movable fingers and even the semblance of a wedding ring upon the third finger of the hand.

"The material possessions of this world are not built to last forever, cara mia."

She scoffed lightly, her negative tendencies not entirely vanquished by his light.

"Then what does last?"

His brown eyes were deeper and warmer than ever until she thought she might fall into them.

"Love. Faithfulness. Devotion."

He smiled.

"Those are the things that endure, Elsa. Those are the things that matter."

She felt captured, entranced.

"And those things you have from me. Eternally, cara mia."

And she let her tears fall.

But they were beginning to be happy tears once more.

And so he did not fret. Simply gazed at her and watched the smile spread across her lovely face.

Though in his mind's eye, he could still see the blood that had painted it the first day she had lain upon his table.

'I've got you . . . under my skin . . .'

She sang quietly to herself as she moved about, preparing a simple evening meal for her and her carpenter.

'I've got you . . . deep in the heart of me . . .'

Some American song to which she was learning the words.

'So deep in my heart . . . you're really a part of me . . .'

Sometimes she sang aloud, sometimes she hummed.

'I've got you . . . under my skin . . .'

Mostly she did it when she thought nobody was around to hear.

'I tried so hard . . . not to give in . . .'

But Massimo could hear. Massimo always heard.

"I believe that tune is originally sung by a man, my dear Elsa."

She tossed a playful smirk in his direction, making him ghost a smile.

"Bah," she scoffed lightly over her shoulder. "Why should men get all the good songs?"

He smirked and came to her then, kissing her neck. Making her shiver.

"So that you can make them great."

She turned in his arms and kissed his inviting lips, savoring his touch, his taste.

Savoring his presence.

Then drawing back just a little, he murmured words that would have more of a lasting effect than either of them could realize at that moment.

"You should practice singing more, cara mia. Your voice could be quite lovely."

And she smiled and blushed and said nothing.

And found herself singing more often thereafter.

Massimo read the paper, among his other daily rituals.

He was also very observant of the world around him, though due to his casual demeanor, he sometimes appeared otherwise.

And so it was that he forsaw the doom and downfall of the world long before Elsa took the time to make herself aware of it.

And he saw the way the world was turning.

It was not good.

The chancellor of Germany, Paul von Hindenburg, placed himself in league with Adolf Hitler.

So deeply in fact that upon Hindenburg's death two years prior, the small, mustached Nazi fanatic Hitler managed to procure for himself the positions of both president and chancellor, bounding the two together.

To became de Furor.

Thus bringing the world a step closer to being crushed under his rolling Nazi machine of death.

Massimo saw. And felt the darkness growing.

And now, this very year, the Nazis had already marched on and taken control of first Nuremburg, then the Rhineland, thus effectively securing their holdings in Germany.

And began tightening the noose of all who did not adhere to their ideal standards and stringent systems and policies.

Sending droves and droves of civilians away to 'workcamps'.

Never to be heard from or seen again.

As if they'd never existed at all.

Massimo had noticed all this with growing disquiet.

And knew they were standing on limited time.

War would soon consume the land and its people.

And if they did not move quickly, they would be trapped and plowed under by the destruction that followed.

"We must leave Germany, cara mia. It will no longer be safe here with Hitler so strongly on the move. The Americans and the British will not stand for it. We must get out before we are trapped here."

She held no great love for the country of her birth, having fallen so far since its era of greatness. Only for the man to whom she now found herself considering grimly.

"Where? Where will we go, Massimo?"

His face was grim and set.

"Across the Atlantic. To America. You will be safe there."

The song Elsa's singing there is 'I've Got You Under My Skin' sung by . . . Cole Porter.

Catch the Freak Show reference? *winks*

And the chapter title is a reference to the book 'Of Mice of Men' by John Steinbeck, published in 1937, a year before Elsa leaves Germany.

Thanks to brigid1318, Mango Marionette, and my guest Gracie (I'll see what I can do, thanks for the plot bunny, sweetie) for your lovely reviews, you wonderful readers, you. :)