Dietrich looked Markus in the eye before reluctantly letting him into the house. He tried thinking about the situation differently than before, especially everything he and Tully talked about in terms of the meaning of comfort food. After all, Markus had showed up on every occasion wearing his old uniform jacket. Had he not gotten anything new for himself in the seventeen years since the war ended? Dietrich didn't allow his flicker of concern to show on his face.

Markus looked hesitant to touch anything. His gaze first settled on Esther, who was bouncing Gunther on her lap. "You have a child, Hans?" Markus asked.

"Yes," Dietrich said.

"I have two. My oldest is ten, and the younger is seven."

Somehow, Dietrich couldn't comprehend that he was an uncle to Markus's children, but he was "Uncle Dietrich" to the Rats' children, and embraced it despite him thinking it was a bit silly at times. He still smiled at the memory of Hitch's daughter, Carolyn, who was the flower girl at his and Esther's wedding, walking up the aisle, throwing the flower petals, and pausing in front of the newlywed couple to say, "This means you're now Auntie Esther! Uncle Troy says so."

The Rats felt like family; Markus didn't.

"Would you like to meet Gunther, Markus?" Esther asked.

"You… are alright with that?" Markus's gaze switched between Esther and Dietrich.

"I suppose, since I am standing right here," Dietrich said.

Esther stood to let Markus hold the baby. Gunther waved his little arms, babbling as Markus held him. The way Markus began cradling Gunther suggested he did indeed have experience with children, but Dietrich still watched him with all the guardedness of a bear watching her cubs.

"He is very cute, Hans," Markus said. "How old is he?"

"Three months," Dietrich replied.

When Esther took Gunther back, Markus started looking around the shelves at the photographs framed on them. "Well, I recognize your friend Tully. You seem quite close with a rather interesting-looking group of people." A confused look came across Markus's face. "Um… Hans? Might I ask—" He pointed to a picture of Anah in a flowery hat. "Is this someone's pet snake?"

"I am not sure Anah could really be considered a pet. Her story is quite complicated, but she belongs to Jack Moffitt. Like Tully, I first met him in North Africa, but we did not become friends until a few years later."

"He must be a lunatic to have a snake."

"On the contrary." Dietrich's voice dropped to a growl. "He is far from a lunatic, and I would prefer you not make such assumptions about my companions."

"Well, Moffitt's definitely not a lunatic," Tully said from the kitchen. "Sarge, on the other hand…"

Dietrich pointed to a picture of Troy. The photograph was of him and Dietrich standing in front of the fence surrounding the horses' pasture at Troy's ranch. Troy was smiling broadly, while Dietrich's was a bit more subdued. "This is him. Sam Troy, once my nemesis in North Africa, and now—somehow—my best friend."

Markus looked more confused. "He cannot be that bad if you managed to be friends with him."

Tully frowned. "Uh… well… it's…"

"Troy is, without a doubt, insane," Dietrich said.

"I mean, he is smart, don't get us wrong," Tully added.

"The best-laid battle plans for him contain a great amount of fire and explosions."

"He's a really quick-thinker."

"He cannot cook to save his life."

"But he's loyal above everything else."

"He once drank pancake batter from a glass."

Tully looked at Dietrich. "Wait, what?"

"Yes. He did."

Tully was completely stunned for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "Anyways, Sarge is a good guy, even if he's a bit… well… unconventional."

"Yes. That."

Markus's confusion only increased. "I see. He sounds… fascinating."

"Yeah, you could put it that way," Tully said.

"Troy and I have a lot in common, shockingly," Dietrich explained. "We were both treated as outcasts by our own blood relatives. We have a strong moral code, a strong sense of loyalty, and we appreciate the simple things in life." Dietrich realized he wasn't going in depth with everything that made him similar to Troy, but that was because it mostly involved his battles with depression.

Markus nodded, but stayed quiet, even while dinner was being served. He didn't speak until tasting the soup. "This is… quite good. Different, but certainly not in a bad way. I am used to Flädlesuppe being made with beef broth."

"I know, but Aunt Miriam made hers with chicken," Dietrich said.

"Ah, this is her recipe. I see." Markus went quiet again, looking deep in thought. "I cannot say it surprises me that you keep her memory alive this way. She treasured you more than anyone else." He got partway through his serving before sighing. "Damn it, I am going to say this whether you believe me or not—when I sent you the letter telling you Aunt Miriam died, Mother had told me not to tell you."

Dietrich paused with his spoon in his mouth.

"I knew that if you mentioned it to Mother, I would be kicked out along with you. It was sheer luck that you said nothing, and she and Father brought it up instead."

Dietrich took the spoon out, and swallowed what was in his mouth. Swallowing a building sense of rage was proving a bit more difficult. "You expect me to believe you when you, just like our parents and Konrad, all joined in on telling me that now I had nowhere to go with Aunt Miriam gone?"

"No, and I do not expect you to believe me when I say that some of her belongings were saved. Our parents and Konrad destroyed and sold as much as they could. I did not. I gathered up as much as I could and hid it to give to you later. If they kicked me out, I would have lost everything, including that box. They could not suspect anything. That was why I acted like I was still one of them. It was wrong. I know that now. I should have had more courage. I should have tried to stand up for you."

Dietrich didn't want to start yelling in front of his wife and infant son. "Prove it. Bring me the box tomorrow morning."

"I will."

Dietrich had half-expected Markus to claim it would take time, which meant he ultimately wouldn't do it, and he was therefore lying, but Markus's confidence and the tone of his voice suggested that there was, perhaps, truth in his words. "Let me ask you something, since you said you planned on giving me Aunt Miriam's belongings… how did you find me?"

"By chance. I overheard a group of men—DAK veterans who are now in the Bundeswehr—talking about you. They said you had a reputation for being a loyal officer dedicated to the welfare of his men. I asked a few questions to make sure they were really talking about you. Indeed, they were. I asked if they knew where I could find you. They told me Hammelburg, near what used to be Luft-Stalag 13."

Dietrich looked down at his dish for a moment, then quietly sighed. "The odds of you happening across these men who were able to tell you where I live are astronomical, which makes me think this was no 'chance.'"

"I do not believe this was mere chance, either."

"I hope you are not just saying that to soften me."

Markus shook his head. "When I encountered those men, I was convinced you had either disappeared or died. I decided not to let this opportunity go. With Mother gone, I knew it was finally safe to talk to you. I had nothing to fear anymore."

Dietrich was now seeing that the choice was his of whether he wanted to believe Markus or not. He thought back to their earlier conversation about Troy. One of the things we have in common is stubbornness. I do not always like to admit to my stubbornness, but it is there, and it is something that needs to be tempered and used carefully. The question now is whether or not I am correct in my stubbornness here. He glanced at Tully, knowing the quiet Kentuckian would help no matter what. I would rather not fight with Markus. He has made no move to hurt me. He has been asking for a second chance. I should give it to him. He looked down at the table, bowed in silent prayer. Tully had mentioned yesterday that the biggest test for Markus's willingness to change would be his response to the knowledge that Dietrich had tried to commit suicide fourteen years ago. Dietrich certainly wouldn't discuss that right now, but he would let the topic come up naturally. He made eye contact with Markus across the table. "At least you have chosen to change. I will give you that."

Markus didn't look sure what to say next, and Dietrich didn't, either. He felt a similar feeling to when he and Troy had put their differences aside to truly start being friends. It made the rest of dinner a bit awkward with all the silence, aside from Tully asking if anyone wanted seconds. Despite how good the soup came out, Dietrich didn't have the appetite for seconds. He was more focused on how to move forward with his brother. He still felt guarded, but knew he needed to start letting his guard down if things were truly going to change.

Much like he had to do with Troy.

After dinner, Dietrich helped Tully and Esther with the cleanup, while Markus was still seated, looking like he was waiting for permission to do anything. Dietrich kept glancing over at Markus, and finally sighed. "You do not have to sit there the whole night. We have couches, and if you need to use the bathroom, it is upstairs."

Markus nodded without saying a word before going upstairs to the bathroom.

"You doing okay?" Tully asked.

Dietrich shrugged. "Hell if I know."

"You're loosening up with him, I noticed."

"I am trying. I just hope I am not making a big mistake in doing so."

"Well, like I said before, you've got us to help you out if something goes wrong."

Dietrich nodded. "I know. Thank you." He paused to think. He didn't like this idea, because he felt like he was being too nice to his brother, but proposed it anyway. "I think we should make a dessert."

"What kind of dessert?" Tully asked.

"What is a quick recipe that never fails to make someone feel good?"

"Can't go wrong with chocolate chip cookies."

"Do that."

"Can I ask what brought this up?"

"I am trying to be… a bit nicer to Markus."

"Okay. I know a recipe by heart, so I'll get started on that once I get the soup leftovers put away. You got oats?"

"There is a large container in the cabinet by the refrigerator."

"Nice. Now, more importantly, do you have milk chocolate chips?"

"There should be some in the same cabinet."

"Perfect."

Markus came back downstairs a few minutes later. He didn't look sure of where to go. Dietrich gave another quiet sigh, and left the kitchen. He was certain everything from here on out would come across as awkward, but he tried anyway. "Are you capable of playing chess, Markus?"

"I played a little during the war. My wife, Liesel, is quite good at chess. I think you would have more of a challenge against her than me," Markus replied.

"Possibly, but you are here, and she is not. There is also no way you can be worse than Troy."

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?"

"Yes. At least, I think so."

"Well, if you insist." Markus still looked greatly confused, and Dietrich was beginning to wonder if Markus eventually met Troy whether or not he would just get even more confused.

After checking to make sure the table was clean, Dietrich took his chess set out of a cabinet in the living room and set it up on the table. He wasn't sure what to expect. Part of him wanted to dismiss Markus as being completely clueless at a game like this, but he reminded himself that he really didn't know who Markus was anymore. Perhaps he was better than Dietrich thought.

Dietrich paid close attention to Markus's first few moves of the game, watching for any particular patterns and especially places where Markus's strategy was weakest, and adapted accordingly. It wasn't a complete bloodbath, but it was going easier than Dietrich would have liked.

"Do you want to taste some of the cookie dough?" Tully asked.

"I would, thank you." Dietrich stood up and went into the kitchen to take the tiny sample that Tully was offering. He was greatly disappointed with how small the sample was, because it was absurdly delicious. "If this is how good the dough is, I imagine it will be even better baked." Even though sometimes the dough is far better than the cookie itself.

"Thanks. The first batch should be ready in about ten minutes, then." Tully turned his back to Dietrich to get a tray out, giving Dietrich the opportunity to dig the spoon into the bowl of dough and scoop out a huge chunk that he promptly stuffed in his mouth. He set the spoon by the sink and slunk back out to the living room.

Markus folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. "I saw what you did."

Dietrich couldn't argue with his mouth full, but he did give his brother a dirty look. He then turned his attention to the chessboard, and made a move that robbed Markus of his remaining knight.

The game ended in a victory for Dietrich. It wasn't the easiest win he had ever obtained in a game of chess, but it wasn't particularly challenging, either. Markus looked wiped out, and heaved a sigh when his younger brother stood to put the board away.

"Good game, Hans," he said. "I see I have a lot to learn."

"You do," Dietrich replied. "However, I appreciate you actually accepting the challenge, and you are not the worst opponent I ever faced."

"No. I imagine I am merely a step above your friend Troy."

"Oh, no, no, you are not that bad. You are much better than Troy is."

"To be fair to Sarge, though, he's really good at cribbage," Tully said, putting freshly baked cookies on a serving plate. "He's just not good at chess."

"And he knows it," Dietrich added. "And he does not care."

"Nope." Tully pushed the plate toward the two brothers. "Here. Take as many as you want."

Dietrich suddenly found himself hesitant to take any cookies while standing next to Markus, despite him having already taken two for himself.

"You okay?" Tully asked.

Dietrich cast a wary look to Markus before taking a pair of cookies. His look didn't go unnoticed, as an expression of shame crossed Markus's face.

"I have no intention of taking anything from you. Not anymore," Markus said.

It took a great deal of strength to resist the urge to snap at Markus. Dietrich quietly refused to give in to his reflexive fear, and ate, keeping himself distracted by making conversation with Tully.

It was getting late at night when things began to wind down. Dietrich expected Markus to leave soon, but when the two were alone in the kitchen, while Tully was upstairs in the shower and Esther was in the bedroom, taking care of Gunther, Markus spoke up about something Dietrich hadn't been expecting at all.

"Hans, since it is just us, could I ask you about something?" Markus said.

"Yes. What is it?" Dietrich took a kettle off the stovetop, and added hot water to a cup containing a bag of chamomile tea.

"I noticed… all throughout the night, that… that you have scars on both wrists."

Silence crashed over the house apart from the water running upstairs. Dietrich set the kettle down. He had been hoping this wouldn't be brought up for a while, but now that it had been, there was nowhere to go but forward. Things have been going well. I do not want to be the cause of setting us back. "I do. What about them?"

"Well, first, I only saw one, on your right. I assumed it was from an accident. Then I saw the other. There was no accident, was there?"

Dietrich had lied to General Preisner and other officers he served with about where the scars came from. It wasn't until after his prophecy was fulfilled that he told Preisner, and only Preisner, the truth. He lied because he was afraid of ridicule, of being seen as weak or cowardly, of being dismissed as potentially unstable. Here, he was afraid of that once more, but this time, he decided not to lie. "No. There was no accident."

"Did someone do that to you?"

"You could say that."

Markus didn't respond.

"That 'someone' was me." Dietrich kept his back to Markus, looking down at the steeping tea. He didn't like how quiet everything had gotten. He braced himself for the worst possible reaction, and eventually turned to face his brother.

"You purposefully hurt yourself?"

Dietrich could tell from Markus's expression and tone that he really didn't know how to respond.

"How long ago was this?"

"Fourteen years ago. The beginning of April, 1948. I remember it… a little too clearly." Dietrich tried his best to come up with a summary of what happened. It was tempting to blame Markus for it, since he was the only person left alive in his family who contributed to his depression. That is your anger talking. Dietrich didn't let his anger take over, and spoke as calmly as possible. The only thing he left out was the prophecy. He wasn't sure Markus would believe him, and he felt that would be something better discussed with Anah present. In the presence of a talking snake, Markus would have no choice but to believe.

When Dietrich finished his story, Markus was quiet, an expression of shock, shame, and sadness etched on his face. He took in a breath, his face pale. "So… you… actually did that. You tried to… end your own life."

"I did," Dietrich said.

"All because of… what we did."

"Not entirely. There was a slew of factors, all compiled together to make me feel as worthless and detrimental to the people around me as possible. Yes, you and Konrad were one of those factors."

More silence from Markus. He looked down at the counter, then stood. "If I had known this had happened, I never would have tried to find you."

"Why?"

"Because I doubt my presence is helping you."

"I told you that was well over a decade ago. I am significantly better compared to back then. Plus, I am not being the better man by pushing you away. In fact, all I am doing is running the risk of pushing you down the same road I did. When I started to heal, I swore that I would do everything I could to keep someone else from experiencing the same thing."

"As much as I appreciate the thought, Hans, I expected you to push me away. Nothing you could have said or done would be overly hurtful, especially compared to everything Konrad and I did to you. I had my hopes, but that was it. Frankly, I should have brought that box of Miriam's belongings with me, just to show I was telling the truth. Part of me was afraid that you would simply take the box and demand I never show my face again, so I… I figured it would be best to try giving it to you under more… amicable terms, if that was even possible."

"Where is the box now?"

"In my hotel room. If things had gone poorly, I would have left the box on your doorstep before going home. Now… I wonder if I should have just done that in the first place."

Dietrich shook his head. "No. This was the way to go. After all, why would an opportunity with near-impossible odds of occurring present itself, only for you to walk away?"

"Maybe that was all it was—a chance to have answers, even if they were not what I was hoping for."

"You had no idea about what happened until tonight, so there is no point in worrying about it. You know now."

Markus nodded, and sighed. "Growing up, our treatment of you was considered acceptable. You would either sink or swim. It was justified as a means of teaching you to swim. I did not think about how damaging it all really was, not until many years ago."

"You do not treat your children the way our parents treated me, do you?"

"No. Good gracious, no. No, I want to give them something better. Much better."

Dietrich realized he had neglected his tea, and turned to remove the bag and add a bit of honey and vanilla. "Could I ask what you are doing now, career-wise?"

"Nothing nearly as impressive as you. I work at a sawmill."

"That is still an important job. I would advise against putting your work down as 'unimpressive.'"

"Liesel says the same thing sometimes. I try. I do know that my work is important. The pay is alright. I am able to make sure my family has food and decent clothing—"

"When was the last time you purchased decent clothing?"

"I have no need for—"

"When, Markus?"

"A… A long time."

"Can you afford it?"

"Well, yes, but I—"

"Then go get something nice for yourself. Have you seriously been wearing that jacket for the last seventeen years? You have had it longer than there was a war on!"

Markus looked like he wanted to deny that, but instead shrugged and said, "Alright, you got me there. I kept this after the war ended. I take it you did not keep anything?"

"For a long time, the clothes I acquired in the military were the only clothes I had, along with some donated clothing from when I was a prisoner-of-war."

"You were captured?"

"Surrendered. I sought out the Rat Patrol to help me leave Germany, and they took me to American lines in Belgium just before Christmas of 1944."

"I suppose you were the lucky one—somewhat, given everything you were experiencing, mentally. My unit did not surrender until the very end, and we were then made part of a taskforce to clear mines in France. Days blurred together, I remember that. I watched… watched people die, or get maimed. I had a period of about five years where I would constantly have nightmares about digging up mines and failing to disarm them. Those dreams will come up occasionally, but less frequently now."

Dietrich nodded, thinking back to the numerous incidents that replayed in his dreams. "There was an incident where I was trapped under my vehicle in a sandstorm. Even though I was able to be rescued, I have had dreams where no rescue comes, and I am just lying there, calling—sometimes screaming—for help."

Markus went quiet for a moment. "I was not keen on discussing certain things whenever I went home, but I tried, just so I was not labelled a coward. Konrad… Konrad discussed his 'exploits' quite enthusiastically. Worryingly so."

"I cannot say that is a big surprise. He was always a needlessly cruel person."

"He did not have to be that way, though."

"No. He was raised that way, and no one ever showed him that it was wrong. No one ever gave him the chance to think about his actions, and now he never will."

Markus shook his head. "Now, it is just… you and me, Hans."

"Yes. The question remains, where do we go from here?"

"Maybe think about it tonight. I will be back in the morning with the box of Aunt Miriam's things."

Dietrich nodded. "Perhaps we could spend a bit longer together, tomorrow. I will make breakfast and then we can go into Hammelburg and get you some nicer clothing."

"Please, Hans, there is no—"

"I insist."

Markus sighed. "Alright, alright." He gestured to the plate of cookies on the counter. "Could I take some for the walk back to my hotel?"

"It is dark out. I can drive you there, but you can still take some of those." Dietrich took another cookie for himself before going upstairs and telling Esther that he was driving Markus to his hotel. He went back downstairs to find Markus had put his aging greatcoat on and was ready to go.

The drive into Hammelburg was short and quiet. Dietrich suddenly found himself in disbelief about what had happened over the last few hours. He had expected having Markus visit for dinner would end in disaster, and he was wrong. He was glad that he was wrong, as this was preferable to being angry.

Dietrich parked behind another car in the street in front of the hotel. He continued trying to comprehend what changed, but also began wondering if he needed to stop overthinking it and just accept that things were changing for the better. He unlocked the car doors. "Alright, well, I suppose this is goodnight."

"That went better than either of us expected," Markus said.

Dietrich nodded in agreement. "Much better, I would say."

"Indeed." Markus got out of the car. "What is a good time for me to stop by in the morning?"

"Since I will do breakfast for you, come by at around eight."

"Alright. Goodnight, Hans."

"Goodnight, Markus." Dietrich waited until his brother was in the hotel lobby before pulling away from the sidewalk and heading back home. He returned home to find Esther and Tully in the kitchen, talking over cups of tea.

"I had hoped things would go well," Tully said. "I didn't think they'd go that well."

"Neither did I," Dietrich replied. "Part of me… does not believe it."

"This is a big change for you," Esther said. "I remember you mentioning that you had no interest in finding your blood family."

"No, I did not. Markus sought me out, and I do believe things have changed."

"I wasn't expecting you guys to talk about what happened with… you know." Tully gestured to his wrists. "That was your biggest worry."

Dietrich nodded.

"I mean, I was thinking throughout the night that you didn't hide your scars very well."

"Part of that is because I am used to not feeling like I have to hide them anymore, but I also thought if I made it too obvious, Markus would suspect something was wrong. It came up as naturally as it could have."

"So, do you know how you want to go forward?"

"I want to see how tomorrow goes before I make any decisions. Right now, I am a bit concerned about how he does not put much care into himself, though he cares for his family tremendously. He seems to have not found that balance."

Tully grinned. "Gee, this sounds familiar."

"Yes, this is very much like how you and Hitch pestered me about making sure I was eating and telling me that I needed to get new clothing since most of mine was old and damaged. I will try to be a bit less annoying."

"We weren't annoying. You're thinking of Sarge."

"True. I am. Troy was greatly annoying during the first year or so after we made amends."

"Yeah, but it all paid off."

"I do still plan on being less annoying compared to you and especially compared to Troy."

"I find it hard to picture you as being annoying."

"Ask Troy. I was quite annoying to him when I took him on a road trip a few years ago."

"Based on what you told us, it sounded like you kinda had to be annoying."

"I did, and I hope I do not have to do that with Markus. We will see how tomorrow goes."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

The whole house was quiet once Dietrich and Esther were in bed and Tully was in the living room recliner. Dietrich thought back to how nervous he had been the night before. There had been nothing to be worried about at all, he thought. Everything worked out far better than expected. He was pulled from his thoughts when Esther snuggled up to him. "Everything alright, my dearest?" he whispered.

"Yes," Esther whispered back. "I'm very glad things are working out between you and your brother."

"Oh, trust me, so am I." Dietrich pulled his wife closer and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

"Are you at all worried this is a trap of some kind?"

"Not really. I think that will always be on the back of my mind, but for now, I am willing to give Markus a chance."

"If you feel he can be trusted now, I will trust him as well." Esther put her head on her husband's shoulder. "Does this mean you will be able to get some sleep? I noticed you left last night."

"I think I will." Dietrich gave Esther another kiss. "Besides, I have you all cuddled up to me. How could I not sleep?" He nuzzled her hair. "I know I have rough nights occasionally, but overall, I have slept better since we married."

"I have slept better, too." Esther smiled at him before kissing the left side of his lower jaw. "I love you so much, Kuschelbär."

"I love you, too. Words alone cannot express that."

Esther turned to get comfortable with her back pressed against Dietrich, who kept his arms around her. He managed to fall asleep, and hoped it was full of pleasant dreams. His sleep was dreamless, and he awoke before Esther the next morning. They had both shifted during the night, with her more on her own side of the bed and him somewhat in the middle. Dietrich let his thoughts wander while getting back alongside Esther and initiating a lazy snuggle. The sleep still soaking his brain allowed thoughts he didn't necessarily want to make their way to the forefront of his mind, and he soon found himself thinking about his discussion with Tully about Markus's plans for their parents' home. On one hand, Dietrich really didn't want to ever go back there, but on the other, he felt he should. He didn't want to be afraid of it anymore.

For now, he decided to just enjoy his time with Esther, and worry about his past when he was more awake.