Chapter 1

Chloe Beale came from a wealthy family living in the heart of Germany. Her father owned a successful law firm. As a child she never had a want for anything. She would grow up, marry a boring man who made tons of money, and have posh diner parties gossiping with other women about the personal lives of others.

Except... Chloe did want one thing. She wanted to be happy.

The day she met Beca Mitchell her life changed forever. The snarky, sarcastic and beautiful brunette set her heart and her body on fire in a way nothing and no one else could. Or ever would.

The odds of them finding each other like they did, and falling in love, were inconceivably against them. Not in this day and age. But they did. The day Beca kissed her, she realized the one thing that she was missing. She didn't know what it meant, why this was so different than everything people talk about, how this could be. But the one thing that mattered above all of that was that she loved Beca with all of her heart. All the other issues... it didn't matter. She would give her entire world to be with Beca.

Her parents were terribly unhappy with her choices. Time after time she shut down every single eligible bachelor that came knocking at the door. And there were indeed many. With Chloe's status, her beauty, and her personality she could have her pick of some of the brightest, most popular and most attractive men in Berlin. None of them mattered to her, none of them affected her the way Beca did. Finally, Chloe was old enough to move out and they got a small relatively run down apartment (compared to the Beale standards) in a mediocre neighbourhood. And of course, she didn't tell them everything. The nature of their relationship... that was something that could never be openly discussed, it was only between Beca and herself. But not getting married and spending her whole life "living with a friend" until she died an old maid was NOT what they had in mind.

People talked. Of course they did. The both of them, moving in together, declaring they would remain unwed. And then there was the fact that Chloe's family was well respected, and Beca was pretty much a nobody. But it didn't matter. Not to them.

And then... the changes came.

He was dangerous. It was a dangerous time. But it started out very slowly, at least in Germany, and nobody realized it until it was too late for many lives.

Chloe wasn't afraid for herself, but she was for Beca. She was big in personality, but it was fit into a tiny body. Now, Chloe did worship that body, but she still worried about her. Beca wasn't Jewish... or, actually she might have been without knowing it. She had been adopted off the streets at the age of 8 to a poor baker and his wife. She had no idea of her true origins. For all they knew she very well might be Jewish. Whether she was or she wasn't, she certainly wasn't the blond hair and blue eyes (well, maybe the blue eyes part, just a little darker than desired) of Hitlers masterplan for humanity. It was her red flag. It made her a target. With the rumours flying around about their relationship, Chloe had every reason to worry.

As she war progressed she heard... rumours. The few openly gay men were disappearing. Some were being turned in. They took them to... where? No one really knew where the disappearing people went. They weren't supposed to worry, told they were safe. Or they were made to feel okay about the population being "purified". That didn't stop the rumours of the death camps flying back.

Chloe was putting together the very meagre daily meal she could make from their rations. She was humming a song she heard on her parents radio. Glancing at the clock she saw it was 6:20, and Beca should have been home from working at her parents bakery ages ago. She lifted the blinds of the parlour window which faced the street below, trying not to worry. It would soon be dusk, and then the curfew would be in place. The heavy rain that they were having the last few days cast everything in a gloomy light.

Where is she?

At 6:35 Beca came crashing through the door. Chloe raced to her, pulling her into her arms not caring about getting all wet.

"Beca! You had me so worried, you were supposed to be here ages ago!" Chloe's relief was short lived when Beca stiffened as soon as she wrapped her arms around her and refused to look at her. "Beca? Beca. Look at me."

Beca stared at the ground for a few minutes longer, sighing as she realized she could never hid from Chloe. She pulled off her hood and turned to her love. She sniffed but she looked Chloe right in the eye.

Chloe gasped. Beca's face was beaten up. She had bruises all on the side of her cheek, like someone had been kicking her face, and on the other side of her head, closer to forehead. Not even the heavy rain had washed all the blood away that had been pouring from the gash on the top of her head. Her hair was matted and wet. Her eyes were droopy and nothing like the confident woman who kissed her goodbye that morning before leaving for work. Immediately Chloe was filled with anger at whoever did this to her, and was extremely worried seeing her girl all busted up.

"Who." Chloe's voice cracked. "Who did this to you? What happened?"

"It was just a few teenaged boys. They stopped me on the way home from work. With the four of them I didn't stand a chance."

"Why did they want to hurt you." Chloe whispered, afraid of the answer which would be bad news no matter what it was. Beca looked down. Not wanting to say. But her refusal to answer was enough of an answer. "Oh."

"Are you..." Chloe didn't know where to begin, what she should ask or what she would do. The hospital was not an option. Beca's identification papers were barely enough to keep her out of trouble when she was stopped. Her details were a little complicated for the system to decide if she was good or bad.

"All they did was beat me up a little Chlo. They didn't... y'know." She shifted her eyes trying to relieve Chloe's worries on the nature of the assault. No rape. That at least, was a positive.

Chloe grabbed her hand, gently pulling her to the kitchen, trying to avoid the bruises and bleeding knuckles and pulled her to the kitchen. Putting a pot of water on their old Victorian cooking range, she began to get it to boil. Then she began to strip Beca's garments taking stock of the damage. As she peeled away every layer her heart broke every time Beca would wince or cry out for her to stop touching a particular area. The worst of the damage, thank god, was the visible stuff. She did have a nastily bruising area on the side of her abdomen. Chloe put the wet, dirty and bloody clothes away and started to wash Beca with a warm, wet rag. Beca sighed as Chloe washed some of the dirt and blood away, beginning to feel more human again. Chloe brought a fresh pail and began to wash out Beca's hair, completely avoiding the gash. Then she washed the dirt away from that as gently but as thoroughly as she could and pressed a clean rag to it. Some pain was unavoidable, she had to get the wound clean. She tied a towel around Beca's head, effectively holding the rag in place until the bleeding stopped.

Beca was completely exhausted from the whole ordeal. By the time Chloe had been gently washing through her hair, her eyes were dropping shut. She whimpered when something made her hurt, but the exhaustion made the pain almost a moot point.

Chloe sighed, having done as much as she was able to for the time being. She guided Beca to their room, pulling a nightdress over her head and put her to bed. Beca whimpered until Chloe herself had finished dressing and gotten in as well. She wrapped around Beca as gently and as securely as she could. Beca sighed once before her breathing had completely evened out and Chloe knew she was asleep. She herself stared out into the darkness thinking for a bit longer.

Chloe did worry about the gash on Beca's head. The biggest danger at the moment was infection, but Chloe was pretty sure she had cleaned it well. She also worried about the kick, or potentially multiple kicks (Chloe considered with anger and a sick feeling) she had taken to her stomach. She didn't know if there was a possibility for internal bleeding. What Chloe was the most worried about was Beca's head. She'd clearly been kicked a few times. Judging by the bruise on her cheek. One couldn't take so many kicks to their head, and a person shouldn't have to.

Chloe decided to take Beca to her parents house first thing, where they could call the physician.

But there was nothing she could do about it now. Going out at this time of night was suicide. The curfew restricted them from leaving the house, and even without it she would be placing Beca (and herself, but more importantly, Beca) in more danger. Beca was so exhausted, there was no chance she would go willingly. And besides all that, her family would be asleep, and the physician far away and off duty at this time.

So she pulled Beca closer. She buried her face (making sure to avoid the areas that were still sore) in those, now mostly dry, brown curls, breathing deeply. If Beca were awake and not injured she would tease Chloe about that. But she couldn't help it. Beca meant home, and love. Her very distinct natural scent made Chloe feel so much better and not as afraid. And the brunette would never admit it out loud, but she felt the same way. One night, before the curfew and political drama had shut down many social gatherings that the Beale's held, Chloe would be gone to a late party at her parents house and would probably stay the night in her old room. Beca had refused to give up Chloe's pillow, offering her own to take instead. After the party Chloe chose to go instead of staying the night, and one of her elder brothers walked her home. When Chloe got in just before daybreak she found Beca curled up around her pillow, clutching it tight and as close to her as she possibly could. She only unfurled when Chloe herself slipped in bed.

She would worry about tomorrow in the morning. For now, Beca was safe with her.

A/N: Last night I finally got around to reading my grandfather's memoirs from his life. In them he talks about his life growing up in Holland during Nazi occupation, including running to air raid shelters during the night between burning buildings, keeping illegal radios, harbouring political fugitives, and allied fighter jets crashing in the haystack on their farm.

Loving history is something that runs in the family. One thing that I always consider, is what I would do living in that time period. Would I be able to find a girl and be happy? Would I be forced to marry a male? Probably. It's nice to think I would figure everything out, but odds are no. Could I hide my feelings for females, or would I be in danger?

Nevertheless, the inspiration of this story came from that. Because as declared by Amiphobic in their story Moirai "Doesn't matter which universe you place them in, Fate brings Chloe and Beca together each and every time."

I admire and respect all the people who came before us and lived quietly, unable to be who they truly were. I never will forget them, or take my freedom for granted.