Hey hey.

I've been AWOL for a bit, but I have been writing, bear with me. What I do is get a tiny idea, and write like a paragraph or so, and then forget about it =p I have pages and pages of those in my room, it's getting ridiculous =)

Anyway, this (chapter!) fic is going to be a bit depressing, in my other fics I've had Hanschen helping Ernst, but I envision this one as Ernst helping Hanschen. Everybody now: Awww.

I have read a fic similar to this before, themes and such, but I have had this in the pipeline for a while now, so don't blame me if you feel plagiarised. I think this is probably a bit darker than the other one, and a bit more twisted in the way that it goes to the extreme. That makes sense, right?

------

The day was Thursday, and the sun was slowly setting over the park that lay in the middle of the quiet German town. It was nearing the end of winter, meaning a cool wind was ever present: Not cold enough that people stayed in, but cold enough that certain couples used it as an excuse to huddle together.

In the park sat the group of eight teenagers, the still recent tragedies in the village scary enough that they met there most nights to try and clutch together at what was left of their childhood. Close to the park gate sat Anna and Georg, one of the couples using the wind to get closer, as were Otto and Thea, next to them. Martha sat awkwardly opposite them, nervously eyeing up Hanschen, who was leaning against a tree, beside Ernst and Melchior, who were observing the group, though the former doing it more fervently. The group had been there for a couple of hours, long enough that their conversation was fast disintegrating.

Melchior was the first to make his excuse and leave, hurrying away, probably aware that half the group was watching him. Anna sighed as he looked after him.

'Poor Melchi,' she said sadly. 'He looks so tired, so upset, still.'

'It's not fair,' Martha agreed. 'He needs some good in his life. Maybe we should treat him?'

'Treat him how? Poor sod doesn't find anything fun anymore.' Georg said.

'What about a trip to Berlin?' Thea suggested, getting into it. 'I was there with my sister last month, it was lovely'

'My father would never let me,' Martha said forlornly.

'Your father never lets you do anything,' Thea tutted. 'What about you boys, Ernst, Hanschen?'

'I don't know...' Ernst said, playing with a tuft of grass. 'Maybe.'

'Hanschen?' Martha asked.

'Hm?' Hanschen looked up from his book, unaware of the conversation that had been going on around him.'

'Would your father let you go to Berlin?'

'Oh, um, I don't know. We'll see.'

'Isn't your father the bank manager?' Otto asked. 'I swear he's stricter than Sonnenstich on a Monday.'

'I saw him when I was at the bank with my parents once, he was shouting. Red in the face, he was.' Georg went on.

Hanschen bit his lip. 'I should go.' He stood up. Ernst watched him, a little concerned.

'Are you...' he started quietly, but Hanschen had already walked off. He stared after him, silently debating with himself about whether or not to follow him. But then he was out of his sight.

It didn't take Hanschen long to walk home, but as he got there, opened the door and heard some voices floating around, his heart sank.

'Shit...' he muttered under his breath, closing the door. He bit his lip as his father appeared in the hallway.

'Hanschen!' he said in a hushed shout, closing the living room door. 'You are late! You knew your Aunt was visiting tonight; you were under strict orders to be here. What is your excuse?'

'I... forgot.' Hanschen said, looking down.

'You forgot?'

Hanschen stayed silent.

'You will stay in your room tonight. I don't want to hear anything before morning.' Herr Rilow grabbed his sons arm and marched him upstairs, dragging him into his room. Once in there he closed the door, though Hanschen knew what was coming and was sure his father would waste no time in this.

Herr Rilow struck his son round the face, sending him flying onto his bed, where he lay still, trying to hide the imminent tears.

Hanschen knew better than to make a sound.

-----

My leg hurts.

Reviews would be lovely!

X