The years had passed for both of them. Gone were the days Liesel spent in Steiner's shop waiting for Max and the nights in which she and he settled down with the older man for supper. Herr Steiner had died a few months ago, most said it was a heart attack. Liesel knew better.

He didn't have a heart left. It had been crushed under the rubble of Himmel Street, drowned in the blood of his bomb-broken family and smothered in ash. He had simply moved through the days waiting, seeking his end. When it had finally come he had surrendered and for the first time in a long time a smile had graced his face. Liesel remembered finding him.

She had awakened to make breakfast. Something hadn't been right and without even needing to see or hear or any of the other senses humans like to use, she had known. Silently, her bare feet not making a sound on the warped wooden floorboards, she had walked to find Alex Steiner finally at rest. In his hands was a worn photograph, faded at the edges and slightly tear stained and on his lips was a faint smile as his glassy eyes had stared ahead.

At first Liesel didn't make a sound, she just stared in shock. Then she gripped his hand and held. Her eyes were perfectly dry. She remained that way for several hours in exactly the same position, Alex Steiner grew colder and she did to. It was the weekend; the shop was normally closed so she was left undisturbed.

Finally her silent vigil was interrupted by a knock, when there was no response a voice called out, but the book thief didn't hear. She was lost in another place, walking with the remnants and faded memories of those who had left her behind. Now she saw Alex Steiner among those ranks also.

"Liesel?" the voice called again and then a key jiggled in a lock. Max came in his hair was tousled, his eyes were searching and his face was creased with worry. Liesel's name died on his lips and instead he rushed forward. "Oh, god." He couldn't take is eyes off the dead man, as he tried to pull Liesel away. She awoke then; she turned to him and resisted his pull.

"Liesel, c-come now." Max couldn't keep the horror out of his voice, he had seen many deaths, but somehow this one was a little worse. Maybe because he knew how much that one connection to Himmel Street and everything she had, meant to Liesel.

Liesel clawed at max, she writhed in his grip. "No No."

She refused to let go; she refused to accept. Max finally pulled her away, and she fell slack. Her body shook as salty tears ran down her cheeks, her hands tightened into fists clutching his clothes and then she threw back her head and screamed. It was wordless, and it said so much, Max held her as the noise died in her throat like the silence of a wounded animal. He folded her in his arms and shielded her view, wishing he could do more because there was nothing that could shelter her from what she had already seen time and time again. Nothing that would bring back those that had been dragged away, mercilessly.

***PLEASE NOTE***

I'm not merciless

Sometimes what I do is the only mercy left.

I can't give back what's lost, but I can take you away from the pain.

That day had passed in a blur as had the week following in which, Steiner had been buried, and she had to contend with the mayor's wife wanting to take her in. But that old house, with its memories of delivered washing, stolen books and a golden-haired boy waiting underneath a window held too much, it was destroying. The finery it offered was suffocating.

Liesel preferred a rickety old flat shared with the Jewish man who had once lived in her basement to the mayor's house drowned in memories.

She preferred simple meals prepared on a rusty stove to the delicacies at the mayor's table.

Liesel preferred Max.

Tim had passed and things had changed. Her body had grown from that of a young girl into a woman's. At Max insistence she had started classes at university and gotten a job at a bookstore across town.

Max had changed to he had gained some of the weight he had lost in the concentration camps. He was still terribly thin, but no longer a skeletalness that was suggestive of death itself. He now worked at a small factory just outside Munich.

Yes, thing had changed a lot but especially between her and Max had changed to. Unintentional brushes that wound up with hands lingering on shoulders a little too long, awkward silences when they accidentally bumped into each other, eyes locked with burning intensity and then quickly averted.

And as much as things had changed, some things remained the same. Time hadn't erased the pain that had been etched into both of them like a diamond carving. They both still had lingering memories and nightmares of what they had lost. For Max it was ash-filled skies, firing squads, burned corpses, sunken starving bodies, and grasping hands of long-dead family members begging for help.

For Liesel it was the bomb-dusted Himmel street, Mama's crushed body, Papa's ruined accordion lying alongside his silvery corpse, and Rudy…Always Rudy, coated in a thick layer of ash, with pink lips marred with a streak of blood and a long awaited finally-gotten kiss.

Their nightmares awoke them both with strangled screams, thrashing sweaty limbs, and gasping breath. Neither acknowledged the other except to wait until they heard the others waking moment. Then silently Liesel would creep out to the front room and find Max sitting up on his cot, head in his hands, shoulders bowed. The kettle would be put on and at the table each would stare at the steam rising from their mugs and think about their nightmares. Separate but together, different but the same. It was a connection forged by loss and strengthened by each other.

/O\

Liesel arrived home, that was what she thought of the rickety flat, habituated by more mice than people. A paper bag of packaged groceries was balanced in one arm as she struggled to open the door. She finally managed to get the key in the lock and opened the door. She started to unpack the bag of groceries and stopped as she heard a sound and turned to find Max, sprawled in one of the chairs at the table. His head was resting on his arms and his hair had fallen into his face. Liesel froze, the heavy paper bag still resting in her arms. She watched Max as he slept; it was one of the few times she ever saw him look truly relaxed.

He looked like he had the day she had read the word shaker and came down to the basement to thank him and he had been fast asleep. She shifted as she thought of that day, and then inevitably of Papa and Mama, and then Rudy and all the others. The groceries slipped in her grip. The bag, shifted and fell to the table. Max sat up with a strangled gasp, his eyes snapping open as he straightened up. His eyes met Liesel's in a panic, and then the look faded as he realized where he was.

He yawned, and stretched his arms, "you're home early."

Liesel quickly picked up the spilled vegetables and bread, and avoided Max's eyes as she spoke. "It started snowing, so Herr Berg closed the shop." Her voice trembled slightly at the end and Max noticed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Liesel moved away, pulling a pot from the cupboard. She didn't speak again and ignored Max as he went into the back room. She had just started the rudiments of a meager soup when she turned to find Max was standing behind her. His hands were clasped behind his back, and lips had the ghost of a smile.

"Jesus, Mary and…" The familiar phrase faded away as she thought of the woman who had said it. Instead she said. 'You startled me Max."

"Sorry, here." He pushed a packet wrapped in parchment into her hands and waited nervously. Liesel examined the small paper lined parcel and the carefully opened it. Inside was a set of pens, and a neatly bound journal in black leather. She stared at the journal, in silence. Remembering another book. Max was speaking.

"It's past your birthday now, but I know you liked to write and I thought, maybe…" he trailed off as Liesel silently remained staring at the leather-bound book.

Liesel swallowed sharply trying to forget the book Ilsa Herman had given her and the words she had written in them, only to lose them in the rubble of Himmel Street. She tried to forget how that book had saved her life and …made her the one left behind. Her eyes burned with the effort of holding back the liquid threatening to seep from them. Carefully she raised her eyes from the journal and offered Max a wan smile.

The journal was obviously expensive, as were the fine pens that went along with it. The reason for Max staying late at the factory for the last few months made sense. They barely made enough between them for food and rent, and it wasn't his fault that what he had gotten her as a birthday present was so similar to another book from long ago.

Liesel reached across and hugged Max, she didn't trust herself to speak. The tears spilled from her eyes, dampening his shirt, but he didn't say anything instead he rubbed her back gently. Liesel didn't let go and slowly his arms encircled her. The hugged deepened until Liesel had buried her head in his shirt, breathing in his odor, hearing his heartbeat, Max's head rested on hers; their warmth was share in the cool flat.

The embrace was broken by the whistling of the tea kettle and self-consciously Max pulled away, this time he avoided Liesel's eyes. Liesel felt her cheeks grow red and hastily turned away, and back to the soup simmering on the stove.

Later that night after dinner. Lisle finally told him, how words had saved her life. She told him about the book she had been writing that night heaven was destroyed and how it had saved her life. They both didn't speak afterwards, there was nothing to say. Max was silent as he wrestled with the memories of how he had been saved time and time again and others had died in his place. Liesel was remembering all the people who had left her behind.

When the time came to go to sleep, Liesel put out light and Max banked the fire. It was silent in the tiny flat, with whispered goodnight's they crawled into their own beds. Sleep didn't come, in the dark, each stayed awake as long as possible. Night wasn't restful, more often than not, it was time plagued by memories.

Slowly, reluctantly, each drifted off to sleep and to their own nightmares.

Max shifted in his sleep and woke up. He glanced around, and then sat upright. Only then did he notice that instead of seeing the tiny front room of the flat, he was surrounded by hundreds of other skeletal bodies. They were packed tightly around him. He saw the striped pajamas and rough wooden bunks, and without having to ask he knew where he was.

Auschwitz.

He got down off his bunk and quietly walked past the rows of bodies, they were silent, sleeping quietly. As he passed another bunk, he realized they weren't sleeping, they were dead. He hurried forward, wanting to get out. He couldn't close his eyes, instead he was forced to see the open staring eyes and the slack mouths; he smelled the decayed flesh and released waste. When he finally made it outdoors, it was freezing, the courtyard was full. He pushed his way through the crowd, only to be beaten back, by a Nazi guard.

"In line, in line"

Max subsided, it was roll call, nobody moved except when ordered then, not unless you wanted punishment. When it was finally over, they still weren't allowed to move.

Max knew what was coming next, but he couldn't escape, he was forced to watch as a group of prisoners was lead up to a wooden stage. People drew back and he suddenly found himself the only person watching. He stared at the prisoners and they turned their faces towards him as ropes were fitted over their necks. His breath caught in his throat, it was his mother, Sarah, his cousins, Isaac, his entire family. Max couldn't move, he could only watch as the ropes drew tight and then with one order their bodies were writhing, struggling to break free. Then the scene changed and he watched them in front of a firing squad, He tried to move, and before he could reach them a crack sounded and their bodies toppled forward, streaming blood. Scene after scene repeated. Death after death and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

/O\

Liesel was back in the basement of Himmel Street. Her journal was held tightly in her hand. She was rereading the last words of her story and then she heard a sound like the world was being destroyed. Dust settled in the small room, the kerosene lamp shook, paint tins tumbled to the ground. Liesel dropped the journal and raced toward the steps calling out for her family.

She struggled to push open the basement door and when she emerged it was into a pile of rubble, everywhere she stared was a mess of twisted, stone, wood and metal. She ran, trying to find her family. Finally she reached the first body. It was Hans, lying sprawled and broken, next it was Mama, then Rudy, Frau Diller, Rudy's brothers and sisters, more and more, and still they came. Liesel continued walking past the bodies of the people who had lived on Himmel Street and then she saw another body. She stopped at this one. He shouldn't have been there; his death was years earlier on a long train ride. But did it matter? Death was death; the way of the meeting was hardly a concern. It was her brother Werner. He was slumped forward against a piece of rubble, in much the same way he had been slumped in his train seat. A lifeless body with staring eyes.

Next to him was her mother, she had never found out what had happened to the woman. But she had always had hope, even after the years went by and no word came. She stared at the bodies for innumerable seconds and then she straightened up and continued forward.

She had nearly reached the end of the grotesque display of wasted humanity, but, there was one more body lying a little ahead, and she dreaded to see who it was.

She stopped next to this one and kneeled down. Hard stone gouged into her skin. Her eyes traced the hair that was like twigs and the sightless staring murky eyes, and then her fingers gripped the cold hands. They were stiff in her grasp.

It was Max. Max was dead, Max was gone; the last person she had left was gone. Liesel felt tears dripping down her cheeks. She traced his cold face with her fingertips. She whispered his name and then she screamed.

Max awoke with a gasp, limbs tangled in covers and slick with sweat. His breath was catching in his throat as he sat up. He glanced around the dark flat. His fingers gripped his blankets, feeling the soft wool, instead of the rough blankets at Dachau. He smelled the faint lingering ash of the fireplace and the scent of fresh snow instead of the smell of half-dead bodies packed into a room with no space to move and little air to breath. He heard his own harsh breath and not the muttered fevered nightmares of others and the gasping breaths of the dying.

He was home, not at Auschwitz, or Dachau or any of the places before. He was safe, but that didn't stop his heart from hammering in his chest, that didn't take away the memories of his nightmare. He still saw over and over again his family dying. There was no amends that he could make, no solace that he could find. For even though he was free, he was alive, his family wasn't. His life had been given with their deaths. He felt unclean …tainted.

Max sat in the darkness, hands wrapped around his knees, dampened shirt clinging to his back and a mind roiling with memories. His reverie was disturbed, by a whimper, which soon grew into a scream. Max hesitated for just a second, and the he started to Liesel's room.

It was dark the only light was from the moonlight spilling from the window. Liesel was almost perfectly still, no one would have known she was locked in the grip of a nightmare except for the scream. Max started as she screamed again and this time he realized it was his name. He leaned down and touched her shoulder, softly at first and then more urgently. Liesel gasped and awoke. Her eyes snapping open. She relaxed as she saw who it was. She sat up her nightgown clinging to her body.

"Are you okay?"

Liesel avoided Max's eyes and nodded. With trembling fingers she brushed the tears from her eyes. She knew Max was lingering beside her, she knew he had heard her screaming his name. She tried to explain. "I-I was back on Himmel street and…everybody was there, Mama,—P-papa, Rudy…" Liesel broke off and tried to hold back a sob. It escaped with her next words. "And you M-max."

She stood and crossed to the window, staring out at the snowflakes slowly falling. After a moment she turned around and asked so softly Max almost didn't catch the words. "Will I ever be able to forget?"

Max didn't know what to say, he moved closer to Liesel until he was standing next to her. He didn't know what would comfort her. Liesel's head was bowed; her arms were wrapped around her shoulders like she was trying to hold herself together. "I keep wondering if maybe, I hadn't been in that basement, maybe the radio did go off and…"Liesel trailed off and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Max hesitated and then he enfolded her in his arms. His own body was still shivering from the aftermath of his nightmares. He felt cold all over, he held Liesel tightly letting her tears soak into his shirt and her bodies warm him.

He waited until she had quieted somewhat. Liesel pulled away slightly brushing tears off her cheeks. Max waited until she had turned to look at him, then quietly he told her. "You don't have anything to feel guilty for, there was nothing you could have done. It wasn't your fault…not like me." He hadn't meant to say the last part, the words slipped out unbidden. A cold confession lying between them.

Liesel stared at him, and Max turned his head away avoiding her eyes. His own were burning. He swallowed sharply trying to clear his throat. Liesel was staring at him, not understanding. He didn't look at her as he explained. He had never told anybody else, he had never told what he had done. Now he couldn't hold it back. "You why I'm alive? My friend Walter had a hiding place, but only for one of us. And so I left my entire family behind and went. I lived and they died." Max couldn't keep the self-loathing from his voice. "I tried to convince myself that it was the only option and they wanted me to go.. nobody else had wanted to leave. But you know the truth Liesel? I wanted to live." Max turned to look at her. "You know what that makes me? A coward…I lived and let my entire family die instead."

"Max…" Liesel trailed off. Max was staunchly avoiding her gaze. She grabbed his hands in her own, feeling his sweat dampened palms resting in her grip and his pulse beating against her wrist. He turned to look into her eyes, "You're not a coward. Not after everything you've done. You lived in hiding for years and then you went to the camps and nearly died, and you're still alive after all that…It's not cowardly to want to live."

***A FACT***

Liesel was speaking so of the truest words

It's takes little courage to die, especially if you choose it

The bravest people are those who are still alive, living, breathing, suffering and hoping

Life takes courage; it's long and seemingly endless

Liesel had tears dripping down her face. Max's body was shaking with quiet sobs. Before either of them was sure who had started it they were wrapped together, in a tangled mass of limbs. Holding each other, letting the feel of each other's body and warmth remind them they were alive. Tears were dripping down both their faces. They were fractured halves of what they had once been. Max had been chipped away by losing his family, the years of hiding and the horrors he had endured at Auschwitz and Dachau.

Liesel was slowly unraveled by first the loss of Werner, then Mama, Rosa, Hans, Rudy, Frau Diller, Herr Steiner, and so many others.

Both Max and Liesel were shadows, each trying to find something to hold onto. Max, felt it a little each day, his grasp on whatever he was holding onto was slipping. It was fading away, and he wanted to let it go and be free but at the same time he never wanted to let it go. The day he had arrived at Herr Steiner's shop he had been searching for Liesel, he hadn't know why then. Maybe for how she had saved him, given him something to live for when it would have been so easy to give up. Maybe because he needed to see a familiar face. Maybe because everybody he had loved was gone, destroyed in a war that made no sense, and he wanted a friend.

Whatever the reason, he couldn't deny that now she had grown into more. He didn't want to admit that to himself. He was almost twelve years older than her, and she deserved somebody nearer her own age. He was ruined, a wreck that was plagued by nightmares and guilt. A body that was almost destroyed by years of near-starvation, hiding, sickness and fear. She deserved somebody whole and yet he wanted her. Their faces were nearly touching . Without meaning to Max leaned down and his lips brushed the side of Liesel's face and then her mouth. His hands reached up to grip her shoulders pulling her closer.

Abruptly Liesel raised her eyes and stared into Max' knew exactly what they looked like, but she wanted to see them again. He turned from her gaze, pulling his mouth away from her warm lips. He pulled his hands from where they were holding her. He resisted the urge to kiss her again.

"I'm sorry." He whispered the words, pulling farther away from her. He was disgusted with himself, she was much too young. He was a grown man, even though she was grown now too, it still felt wrong. He had known her when she was nothing more than a little girl.

"Max?"

"I should go." He pushed the words out roughly and drew his hands still farther from hers but still he didn't move.

"Max."

He glanced up to find Liesel's face dripping with tears. Automatically he reached out to wipe them off, he didn't mean to let her fall into his arms again or to pull her against his chest. He didn't mean for his own tears to fall into her hair. He wanted to let her go and yet he wanted to hold her forever.

Liesel inhaled his smell, she raised her head still wet with tears as she felt his shoulders shake and then still as he tried to hold himself together. She lifted her eyes to his . His warm breaths caressed her face and then without meaning to their lips were touching again. It was a chaste kiss and then a hungry one. Max pulled away, his hands fell down; Liesel leaned forward seeking his lips again, Max moved farther back; he was already shaking his head. "Liesel stop, this is wrong."

"Why?'

Max couldn't answer, he didn't want to tell her, he didn't want to give her the reasons he should leave, but he did "Because I'm almost twelve years older, I have a job where I barely make enough for us to live. You're young, you can start over, you need to find somebody that loves you."

Liesel's eyes burned, but she forced out. "You don't?"

Max nearly choked on the words, but he met her eyes and prayed she didn't see the truth, she deserved to be happy. "No…Not like that."

He hated the crushed look of defeat that crossed her face and the lines of sadness he had caused. He hated the muffled sob that she stifled. He tried again softening his words. "I want you to be happy Liesel, to have children, to find happiness, to have a life…and I have nothing to offer you…Others would gladly…"

He broke off as Liesel spoke. "I don't want riches, or anything, or anyone else…I just want you."

"Liesel..."

"Max, we're all we have left. " Liesel moved forward and grabbed his hands. " you're the last person I have left…"

"Liesel, please…"

"Don't leave Max…don't leave me again."

"I can't…" Max tried to speak but all the reason's he had died on his lips, instead he asked a question. "Don't you hate me?"

"Why?"

"Don't I remind you of all that's happened? I see the way you look at me sometimes."

"When I see you, I remember Mama, Papa, and Rudy, but I also remember, reading in the basement, the snowball fight indoors, nights by the fireplace the best times in my life…you remind me of being alive."

Max gently reached out and brushed the trails of tears from her cheeks. "You saved my life many times, Liesel. You don't know how many times in Dachau and Auschwitz, I just wanted to give up and then I thought of you…How I can ever repay that." Liesel didn't speak, her eyes bored into his.

"You don't have to."

Max swallowed. "Liesel, I ..." He broke, the words wouldn't come. Instead he pulled her closer and kissed her, this time, he lingered. His hands reached upwards to her tangled hair. She moved closer, their bodies were pressed together. Her arms were twined around his neck. He picked her up holding her slight weight. He could feel the contours of her body through her nightgown. Her breath was in his ears. His smell was wrapped around her. Finally they broke apart; Max rested his head in her hair, so softly she almost didn't hear it he whispered. "I love you Liesel."

Those four words were the next step on a long journey. It had begun that day he had arrived in the kitchen of 33 Himmel Street and it would end years later in Australia.

*** A FINAL OBSERVATION***

Love doesn't grow like a plant sprouting up overnight

It grows and sprawls and the longer it lies in wait growing, the longer it lasts

Sometimes an eternity.

A little one-shot while you wait for feathers to Ashes. Hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is welcome...I don't bite;)

Note: In this one-shot Liesel is 18 and Max is 29, yes a big age difference, but after everything's she's been through, she's a lot older than her years.