The Heaven's Are Burning

Aiden Becker's world came down in a same single second the door was smashed in. He was in the kitchen, but he heard it loud and clear. The house packed pull of once calm folk, quickly turned into a horror filled nightmare.

Aiden knew in that moment who it was. The secret police had finally caught onto his parents, and they were here to end it.

They baby was crying, his mother rushed to the screaming child, terror and despair clearly evident in her eyes.

More screams, the intruders were in the living room now.

"Papa, what's happening?!" Maya cried, his sister reaching out for their father, "Papa!"

Mr. Becker was firm, pulling her into a strong embrace, "Stay strong child, you have to stay strong." he was talking his voice soothing, but he was looking at Aiden, "You have to stay strong."

Stay strong? How could he do that? Aiden's heart was pounding so hard against his chest he almost expected it to burst forth from his ribs. "P-" he's too terrified to be strong. Because he's old enough to know, know very well what is happening now.

Each shaky breath is now a precious gift, each second he is alive is a blessing. Each moment that he can still see his own family is now dearly treasured. Because the likely hood of him seeing the next sunrise, much less leaving this house alive, are very unlikely.

"P-papa..."he stuttered out.

"Stay strong Aiden. You must stay strong."

Axel Jones ever wonders if the war will come here, if his own world will ever come to an end. The president doesn't want to get involved; to bring the states to war would destroy so many lives. Axel is too young to remember the First World War. But his father doesn't speak fondly of it.

Would the Germans come here?

He stares solemnly out into the harbor. His dad's ship is out there. One of the gleaming gems on the string of pearls. He's out there right now, hoping for peace, yet preparing for war.

Axels' old enough to be drafted, he wonders if he has to fight. Will he be able to kill someone?

Across the world, Lukas Heinrich wonders the same thing.

He is born of a superior race, and Lukas is truly the ideal being that means Germany. Blue eyes blonde hair, he comes from a long proud family. His whole life has been the same speech.

Germany is the ultimate race. All less are disgusting ilk.

You must be strong, you must be better.

He isn't physically the strongest soldier in the Fuehrer's army. But he is one of the best, one of the brightest.

But Lukas has a weakness, he has doubt.

One of his school mates writes from France. He brags on and on at how easily the country fell. He boasts how soon, England would fall to the might of Germany and its Allies. Soon it will be the America's. The so called proud United States won't enter the war, they'll be easily conquered. There is talk of Japan bombing them soon, just to make sure they stay out of the war.

Will they?

The alliance with Italy and Japan is temporary, all the higher officers speak of it. Hitler with soon take the world.

Will he?

The Jews will be exterminated.

Should they?

Lukas fiddles with the rifle on his hands. He hasn't killed anyone yet. He's fired it at least a thousand times, and everyone knows he's an excellent shot. He raises it, aiming at the target, and tries to imagine someone there. Anyone, they've got a gun too, they will kill him if he gives them a chance.

But everytime he tries to imagine it. Lukas doesn't fire.

So he lets the image fade back into a target, and shoots.

Bull's-eye, right in the head.

But it's a targets head, not a person.

Lukas sighs and lowers his gun. He's grateful that no one is at the range with him yet. But he hopes soon that someone will come so he can go back to being a proper German. Because when he's along, Lukas fails to be the superior race that he is supposed to be.

But what frightens him, is if he's not sure if that is a good or bad thing.

Jesse's world ends much slower than most. At first it was only a surreal dream, something that now one believe was happening quiet yet.

But it was happening, and it was so so real, it was still going.

Six months ago, he had been much younger, innocence was something he wish he still had.

"Please don't go!" he begged.

His father Captain Stephen Hawkins of the Queen's Royal service smiled gently at him. But his voice was firm, "You know I have to Jesse." he said similar words that almost everyone seemed to be saying these days. "You're the man of the house now Jesse, you need to be strong. For your mum and sister..."

"Stay please!"

His father smiled that kind smile again, Jesse knew it would be a long time before he saw that smile again. He feared it would perhaps maybe be never, "You know I have to-"

"No!" Jesse grabbed hold, on the verge of tears, "You've done your duty to the crown. Father please!"

The response was gentle, and so was the hand on his chin. "Jesse...Please? For me? Whenever you can, look at the stars for me."

Jesse sniffs, "Why?"

Stephen kisses him on the forehead, "Know that when you look at them, when you see the stars. I'll be looking at them too. It will just be like when we went star gazing together. As long as you can find them Jesse, know I'll be looking."

He almost sobs there, "Okay."

"Promise to take care of everyone now?"

Jesse promised, God knows he didn't want to. But he promised, and then watched his father leaving. His father left, and joined the thousands of other fathers, sons and brothers off to go fight the bad dream that all hoped would soon be over.

Now what should have been a bad dream, or a simple delusion of a child's perspective on war, became a nightmarish truth.

He raced home, people were screaming, sirens were wailing. The Germans were coming. Everyone knew that after France was taken, they would come for England.

So much was gone, so much more was unrecognizable. Was this truly the city he had grown up in? Sandbags were stacked up everywhere trying to protect what was left. But what were a few mere sandbags compared to a thousand bombs and the number that still grew?

Jesse ran past the cathedral his parents said they married in. The roof was gone, burned by the fires. Whole buildings were gone now; his school had been bombed last month. He no longer had a solid source of education, thousands of children didn't. Yet the war didn't care.

Fire was everywhere, and so was the horrid smell that lingered in air. Oh the smell, it smelled of death and flames, it was constant.

There is another whistle of a bomb, the ground shook and Jesse stumbled. The explosion was close too close, and he knew another building had been destroyed. Possibly a life had gone down with it...

He's almost home, almost there. He runs down the long road towards his house. There used to be more houses on his street, the one leading up to his family's driveway. Most of his neighbors are gone now...

"Jesse! Hurry!" His mother cries. She's already at the bomb shelter. His mother has become a husk of her former self, grieving a husband off at the war and mourning a home that is no longer safe for her children.

Jesse leaps - jumps down all eight steps in one bound, falling into the shelter. His ears are ringing from the explosions. There is ash in his hair and it's so hard to breath. His sister wails as another bomb falls, cowering in a corner and praying to God they live just a moment longer. She's so young, and yet all her youthful life has been stripped by so much death, Jesse can't remember the last time he saw his sister smile.

His mother is struggling to close the door. Jesse hurries up to help her, and looks outside one more time. He looks everytime because it might be the last time he sees the night sky.

They sky is red, glowing from London's burning embers. You can see the planes, both England's and Germany's. Hues of black, orange and yellow flash through the sky with each explosion. This isn't the world he knew anymore. Six months of a slow burn, and Jesse's world has ended, his child-like innocence of the views of war long gone. This is hell.

The door finally clicks shut, Jesse taking one more peek before it does. He looks for the stars and tries not to scream in despair.

There are no stars, the heaven's themselves are burning.

ImmaGuest2 requested:

If you are still taking requests I got one: Any or as many mcsm characters you like
AU in one of your favorite history subjects!

Author's Section:

Had a little too much fun with this one, thanks for the request!