"Merci."

"Shush," Audrey uttered, shooting an imploring look to the young boy. He looked ashamed for a moment and she softened, pulling him close to her and wrapping an arm about his shoulders.

"Never say thank you for someone doing the right thing," she said softly. "Never. Do you understand? The right thing should never come at a cost to you, ok?"

He nodded softly, nuzzling close to her as the walked leisurely down the Parisian street. He was a lot smaller than she was expecting, but then she remembered how starved and small stress and pain and loss had made her. She recalled the shape of her wrists, just skin and bone, her cheeks looking as though it was taut fabric stretched across boning in a bodice. She had looked worse than this young man, covered in her parent's blood, and she felt a stab of guilt for even the mild judgement of 'small'. The world had made him small.

She had arrived with the papers at the nondescript apartment that Sunday morning and had felt panic to see the young man there. She had scolded Oscar that it was idiocy to have her, the papers, and the boy in one place, but Oscar had been unrelenting in his reasoning. She was to walk this little boy, as it would be too obvious if it were him. Her? She looked like a nanny. She looked as though she could be looking after him or a governess. She was naturally easy to look away from, especially now that her face was healing well and her neck was covered with a scarf.

Oscar would take the papers.

She would take the boy.

They'd meet at L'église de la Madeleine, the large and dark pillars of the church the perfect hiding space for their plan, and then the unknown contact would take the boy and the papers and whisk him from France.

She would have argued, she would have refused, but the boy's dark eyes had burned her, hungry and frightened and desperate, and she had recalled those feelings in her nineteen-year-old self and felt helpless.

She had said 'oui' and taken him.

Eli was small and sweet and soft. She marvelled at that, his ability to look upon her kindly. She felt as though kindness had left her when she was in his position, but perhaps youth served him well. The streets were the perfect amount of full in the Sunday sun, and she held him close as they walked slowly but not-too-slowly.

"How do you know Doctor Clément?" Eli asked, unable to sit in the silence.

"He is my boyfriend," Audrey said, unwilling and unable to explain whatever mess her relation to Oscar was now.

"Oh," Eli said, his eyes wide and interested. "Do you love him?"

"He loves me I think," Audrey said with a soft sigh. "I am not sure how I feel."

"I think you should love him," Eli said quietly. "He is very kind. He is very good. He is saving me-"

"He is doing the right thing," Audrey repeated, sterner then she intended to. "You should never love or reward for the right thing, Eli."

"Of course," Eli said, blushing and dropping his head. "Sorry."

"And never say sorry," Audrey said quietly, squeezing his shoulder once more. "Ever. Do you understand? You have never done anything wrong. France, Europe, the world has done you wrong. Never say sorry."

Eli looked momentarily steeled by such reasoning, nodding firmly, suddenly looking like an eleven-year-old, not a child. They walked slowly, eyes downcast, his arms sneaking to wrap around her waist. She wondered how long it had been since he had been held, treated with some kindness and some tenderness. Audrey was by no means warm, but she felt herself soften at his touch, her cheek coming to rest at the top of his head momentarily.

"In my faith… there is a woman called Deborah," Eli whispered. Audrey felt her heart still, the memory of this prophetess who her mother had revered and spoken of with such kind love so often throughout her childhood, that the memory seemed entwined with that of Audrey's mother. Indistinguishable from one another. "She is the woman of torches. She brings God by connecting us, solving our problems. You are like her. You are a woman of torches."

Audrey felt the tear slip without meaning to, battering it away with a breath of laughter.

"That is very kind Eli," she said. "But not true. Deborah was a warrior, and she conquered Canaan, I do not believe I have ever been so brave."

She felt Eli's eyes burn her, the recognition of her knowledge burning his gaze.

"But you are Aryan," he whispered excitedly, his eyes shooting between her blonde hair and her blue eyes.

"Have you seen Michelangelo's Prophet Daniel?" She asked. Eli shook his head, eyes shining with wild silent delight. "He is blonde-haired, blue-eyed. He is still a prophet."

"You are like me," Eli whispered excitedly. "Does Doctor Clément know?"

She shook her head.

"Only you," She whispered, unsure why she was sharing but feeling an immense feeling of calm that she had. "And now we carry each other's secrets. Just as we should. A Berakhah, of sorts. God led us to each other, perhaps?"

"Amen," Eli whispered, fizzing with excitement at the discovery.

There was a pinched silence before he blurted it.

"Come with me?"

"Excuse Moi?" Audrey asked, glancing him. His eyes shone with a commitment to his statement, his heart thundering in his little body that he would be so brave.

"Come with me."

He was firmer in his conviction.

"Eli-"

"You are my achot-"

"Eli-"

"It means sister-"

"I know what it means," Audrey said with a breath of laughter, smiling softly at him. "I have to stay. France needs me."

"France hates us," he said quietly, suddenly looking angry. "It hates you, it hates me. Leave it."

"It hates us," she agreed quietly. "But it is not enough of a reason to hate it back, you understand? Did your parents ever teach you about qārā?"

Eli nodded softly.

"It is my qārā to stay here in Paris," she whispered, the church coming in to view down the long grey street.

"What is my qārā?" Eli asked, his voice sounding unsure once more.

"To survive," she said, smiling softly at him. He nodded quietly, cuddling close to her once more.

"Ok," he agreed quietly, hurt at her rejection, but accepting of her reasoning. They walked the last few steps in silence, his eyes burning the floor in front of him.

"My qārā is to keep your secret," he whispered. She glanced at him and watched the hardness and purpose in his eyes.

"Toda Raba," Audrey softly blessed. "You have a wonderful soul Eli. Never lose it."

He nodded firmly, and she steeled herself, trying to look calm and serene for him as they walked the steps of the church, slowly entering the hallowed building together.

It looked like the painting she had imagined. There stood Oscar, by the alter, watching intently, the papers in hand. She stepped forward, smiling easily at Oscar, her hardened heart softening ever so slightly to see what Oscar would do to protect this child.

She opened her mouth to speak but it all happened so fast the voice was ripped from her.

Eli suddenly was not at her side, a hand wrapped in her hair, tugging her swiftly from the young boy who yelled out in terror, eyes swelled as an arm wrapped his throat, pulling him into easily to the front of the aisle, holding him still feet away from Oscar. Oscar, who let his eyes drift down in shame, unable to take in the scene.

It was the flash of brown uniform that made her blood freeze, words leaving her as her eyes swelled. She was being dragged to the front of the church, and she fought despite the hopelessness of the situation. She let out a shriek of pain when an elbow collided with her side, trying to still her.

"Careful with her," a voice tutted. "She is bruised like a peach!"

She looked up, ignoring everyone else to see Landa walk slowly, smiling like the cat that got the cream. His eyes burned black against her, thrilled with what he was seeing. Audrey's head whipped up to see Oscar ignore her still, a wave of soldiers suddenly infesting the space, running like cockroaches from the darkness of the church.

"What the fuck have you done?" Audrey hissed, eyes ablaze at Oscar.

He looked devastated, behind the wall of moving soldiers. She saw him enter behind Oscar, the soldiers parting for him like the red sea.

Hellstrom.

His blue eyes watched her, a wicked smile hitting his face to see her once again pinned back by one of his men.

"Audrey?" Eli asked, looking at her with increasing fear, the soldier's arm gripping him viciously.

"They're upset with me," she said, snapping her eyes to him, immediately radiating cool and calm. "Keep looking at me, Eli. It's me, they're mad at me-"

"Audrey-" Oscar began.

Eli's head begun to turn.

"Non, non, Eli," she called gently. "Mon chéri, look at me. Keep your eyes on me."

She pulled herself forward, causing the young solider holding her fall forward. She heard Landa yell out a bark of laughter, but she ignored him, eyes focused solely on Eli as she struggled as close as she could to him, till she was but feet from his form.

She could see the terror in his gaze and she smiled comfortingly, pouring her heart and soul into the goodness she shared with him.

"Mon chéri," she said with a soft laugh. "Look, look they are speaking to me, it is me they are upset with."

She could see Hellstrom withdraw the gun behind Eli, raising it with expert hold. Her eyes stayed on Eli, panic consuming his young and sunken face

"Everything is très bien," she continued, face soft. "You're ok."

He blinked, focusing on her. She tugged herself forward once more, mere inches away, smiling softly.

"This is my qārā," she mouthed silently to him. A twitch of a smile crept upon his face.

The comfort reached the boy's face seconds before a bullet went through the back of it. The blood splattered out of his mouth and nose, spraying her dress, her hair, her face.

Audrey closed her eyes, feeling her body go weak for a moment, the soldier's hand holding her against gravity.

"A good liar," Landa called in English from behind her. A laugh ran from Hellstrom. She kept her eyes lowered, unable to look at the unrecognisable mass that was a child only seconds earlier.

"Audrey," Oscar called, his voice brittle and terrified.

She moved so quickly that the soldier's grip slipped as she ran towards Oscar, eyes wild, teeth bared.

A young, indistinguishable soldier from the wall of Nazi's caught her around her waist in a simple swing, but she ran at Oscar still, held back by the Nazi's arm. The rage she felt was so overpowering she didn't notice the shift of her fractured ribs and bruised skin pulled by the stranger's grip. Her entire universe was now narrowed down to only Oscar, her eyes black as she stared at him with hatred.

"You may as well have shot him!" She screamed. "You may as well have pulled the trigger!"

"I bargained for our lives Audrey," Oscar said, tears beginning to stream down his face.

A hysteric laugh broke Audrey as she shook her head in disbelief.

"You fucking idiot," she spat. "You fucking idiot! You have bargained for your life, yours, you may as well wear one of these uniforms!"

"Audrey," Oscar begged, looking devastated by her response.

"They'll kill everyone! Everyone that hid him, everyone that helped- because you're too fucking stupid to lie!"

Landa laughed aloud at her synopsis because ultimately, she was correct. He should have just said he'd never seen the papers. They would have been destroyed, nothing would have probably come of it. Killing a Red Cross doctor wasn't something he wanted done on his watch. Landa had bigger things than a little boy to hunt down. If Oscar had held his nerve the boy would still be alive under the floorboards instead of dead in a bloody puddle in front of them. He walked slowly to stand by the side of the scene, observing as though he were a patron at a gallery, instead of artist and architect of this destruction. It looked like a grotesque renaissance painting. Blood and passion and fury and betrayal. Framed by the beautiful painting that lined the walls and ceilings of the cathedral. It looked truly biblical.

"He knew," Oscar stuttered, throwing a hand to Landa.

"He doesn't care!" She yelled, the hysteric laughter interrupting her once more. "He is in charge of every swastika wearing soldier in the entire of Paris, and you think he would give a shit about this! He doesn't care!"

"His name is the Jew Hunter-"

"He doesn't care!" She screamed out, furious at Oscar's ongoing obsession with Landa. If she had turned her head to the left by even a quarter of an inch she would have seen a smile that graced Landa's face that confirmed everything she had said. He didn't care about the dead little boy on the floor. He cared about being stimulated.

"It was your idea," he choked out.

She froze, slacked in the young soldier's grip, shocked at what he had said. He could see the flood of pain at such a betrayal.

"Oscar," she whispered, feeling winded at such a cruel twist of fate.

"She planned it," he said, sounding physically pained by what he was stating. His eyes dropped from her, her form held up only by the Nazi's grip. She looked like a devastated marionette, as though someone had let go of the strings. She waited for him to look but cowardice held his gaze firmly to the floor. Her head snapped to look at Hans Landa, her eyes suddenly black.

"He's lying," she said simply in German. Landa grin slowly stretched his face, eyes flashing in delight and Hellstrom threw her a look of interest.

"What are you saying?" Oscar asked, panicked by her switch to German.

"He came to my house to get the papers that night, I didn't even know that they were there," she said quickly, almost laughing at the insanity of the conversation. "Arthur left them. Oscar bullied me in to bringing them tonight and at the last minute told me I had to get Eli. He is lying."

"What did she say?" Oscar asked Landa, eyes wide in terror.

"She says you're lying," Landa said pleasantly in French, shrugging almost theatrically as though he was sharing some fun gossip between friends. "That this was on your hands. That you made her bring Eli-"

"Non," Oscar choked out, terror coating his movement. "Non, Audrey, I've bargained for your life, I am doing this to help-"

"Lying!" She interrupted in german, shaking her head in wide-eyed agitation at Hans Landa.

"You bargained for your life," Landa called out. "Not hers."

"She was part of the deal!" Oscar cried, eyes turning wide as Hellstrom began to stalk towards her.

Audrey felt the soldier behind her force her down to her knees, his hand wrapping hard into her hair to keep her upright. She didn't struggle, she kept her eyes forward on Oscar, her spine straight, her face calm. Hellstrom raised the gun once more, hot blood still splattered on the barrel.

"Landa we had a deal!"

"He is lying," Audrey repeated in German, her voice incredibly calm and resolute.

"Non," Landa replied to Oscar conversationally, ignoring Audrey completely. "We had a deal for you. She's a traitor, and as a Colonel in the Nazi Party I cannot settle for anything less than prescribed justice-"

"Landa, you swore, you gave me your word!" Oscar choked, eyes wide in horror.

Landa watched Audrey intently, her eyes focused entirely on Oscar with such disappointment and disgust that the young doctor winced.

The gun barrel buried into her tousled hair, digging painfully against her temple, but she didn't flinch, unmoved by imminent death. She felt the blood of Eli against the iron, smearing against her blonde hair and skin.

"Landa! Landa!" Oscar yelled, scrambling forward. A soldier grabbed him, dragging him backwards.

"Auf Wiedersehen Audrey," Hellstrom mocked. He kicked the hammer back, the gun clicking against her head.

"She's telling the truth!" Oscar roared, tears rolling down his face. "I lied. She's telling the truth!"

Hellstrom frowned mockingly. He pulled the trigger and Audrey ever so softly flinched at the click.

For a fraction of a second, she queried if death felt like nothing, just a brief continuation of life, but when her eyes opened she saw Oscar sobbing in front of her, sunk to his knees. She looked up at Landa who smiled at her with a playful grin.

"Nerves of steel," he muttered in French, shaking his head with an impressed quirked eyebrow.

She was stood up the young soldier, and Landa grinned once more to see not even a tremor run her.

Oscar was beside himself, sobbing into his own hands and she looked on with contempt.

Hellstrom's hands were on her, roughly grabbing her as he clicked handcuffs on Audrey's wrists and shoved her towards Landa who carefully caught her, avoiding her bruised ribs.

"Careful," he scolded with a dark chuckle. She looked up at him, his hands clasping her shoulders as he smiled down at her with almost paternal pride. Her eyebrows furrowed in agitation and he let out a fresh breath of laughter.

"You are under arrest Fräulein Audrey Loewe, for acting against the German nation, and the Nazi Party," he said calmly in German, the sudden veer of authority across him. "Please come with me."

She nodded, unable to look back at Oscar whose loud sobbing filled the room.

Landa's hand sunk her shoulder as he guided her from the church, and she let the hatred still her heart. Her grief, her pain, her rage melted to nothing against the white heat that her righteousness burned. She saw him glance her soft expression as he dipped her head into the car, giving her a small interested smile as she looked forward, her whole-body firm and controlled.

"Ah, mademoiselle," he said softly, leaning forward with his pristine handkerchief in hand. He carefully and delicately wiped below her eye, her lashes fluttering at his touch. "You have a little… boy on you."

He let himself smile brilliantly at his joke, holding the stained cloth in front of her. She watched the blotch of red smeared across the white fabric, looking at it as though it were thick glass. As though it didn't belong to her or Eli.

It didn't, not really. It was a symbol. It was the beginning of a reckoning. She knew by the end of it, she would have Eli's blood paid for by Landa's.

She would have her pound of flesh.