It was a warm dream. A happy dream. A park, maybe, or some other pristine natural setting, rolling green hills sparkling with rainbow flowers and a sapphire lake in front of him. Eren sat under a tree, sunlight filtering in with yellow and green from young leaves, and best of all, Levi in front of him, naked, partially submerged in the lake.
Eren had watched him bathe like this all through the summer, but it was different back then. He was a soldier, Levi was a prisoner, and there was the understanding that if Levi tried to leave, he might be forced to shoot him.
Not anymore.
The water gleamed on his skin—not scarred and bruised, but as smooth as cream. His wet, raven hair gleamed in the sunlight. Eren did not feel like he was on a knife's edge, holding back his attraction, fearing someone might question why his gaze drifted down to that tiny, firm ass.
Now, he could simply gaze at him, adore him, and smile that he was so lucky to have such a beautiful, powerful man all to himself.
Yet clouds moved in, massive and white, blocking the sun, slowly turning gray and darkening the fields. The flowers wilted, the lake turned black, and a wind pummeled Eren from the side, knocking him over. He pushed himself up and gazed at the lake, worried for Levi.
The black water was wild, frothing, like the worst storm hitting the North Sea. Levi still stood in the midst of the maelstrom, as if even a hurricane could not knock him over.
Eren cried out to him, but his voice was instantly carried away. He tried to scream, but the wind was louder. His hand reached out, fearing Levi might sink from view.
Levi began to turn around to him, looking over his left shoulder. He seemed unperturbed, only blandly realizing Eren was screaming for him. Slowly, his head turned more and more, until his right side was revealed.
The entire half of his face was covered in blood, dripping down to his chin and turning the black lake red. Eren stared in disbelief.
What happened? So much blood!
Then there was an explosion, like a torpedo went off in the water. Where Levi had been, there was only a red mist raining down into the lake.
Eren howled in horror. It was just like how Gunther had all but vanished into bloody mist right in front of him. Then the explosion created a fireball that hurtled toward Eren, burning his hair, his clothes, and melting his flesh.
Just like the flamethrower he used to kill Americans.
His cries of agony blended with those of his men as they burned to death.
Carried on the wind were the final pleas of his mother begging for Eren to be spared.
* * *
Eren bolted up screaming in terror. Just then, he saw a blinding flash, and seconds later a massive crackling boom rattled the windows.
Hands reached out to him, but Eren battled them. The enemy would not take him!
"Eren."
"Nein!" he screamed in rage.
"Takhshet."
That word jolted him. He looked over, but it was too dark to see anything. Then another flash of lightning lit the sky, and he briefly caught a glimpse of Levi beside him, his face pinched in worry. The crackling explosion of thunder that followed made Eren cringe, reaching for a gun that was not there. Levi took hold of his wrists.
"It's okay. It's the storm."
Eren suddenly reached forward and held Levi's face, feeling around his cheeks. No blood. No injuries. He ran his fingers through Levi's hair, but there was nothing amiss.
Just a dream.
Eren felt like sinking as his fears washed away with the pounding rain, leaving him with nothing but hollowness.
"You weren't there," Eren said, still horrified by the nightmare. "Eine Bombe ... a bomb, and then ... you weren't there anymore."
Levi hushed him as he stroked Eren's head. "I'm right here. I'm not going away."
Lightning flashed again with an ear-piercing crack of thunder that seemed to rip the heavens apart as the rain deluged the city. Eren screamed and again tried to reach for a gun, only to realize he was naked.
"Thomas! Franz!"
Levi's hand was right there to comfort him. "You're safe, Eren. You're here with me."
Tears began to well up in his eyes. "Hold me," he said as emotions began to bubble up. "Verdammt, just hold me."
Levi pulled Eren up against his chest with his arms wrapped around him. He softly whispered comforting words, assuring him he was right there and it was safe, just a dream from the storm. He nuzzled Eren's neck, and that seemed to break something, a cry catching in his throat.
Levi whispered, "It's okay. Let it all out."
Eren began to sob. For the men he lost, for the tortures of pain they endured through those weeks, for the slow collapse of his once-proud nation, for the military career he was throwing away, for his mother, for every beautiful thing destroyed in this war ... he mourned it all.
Thomas. Franz. Moblit. Nack. Lauda. Luke. Ivan. Jurgen. So many!
Eren felt Levi stroking through his hair, and he sank deeper into those powerful arms. He hated to admit any weakness—he was supposed to be an Übermensch, a superman—but Eren knew he was allowed to be vulnerable around Levi.
Eren grumbled, "Are you going to say I'm a child afraid of some thunder?"
Levi kissed the top of his head. "Not when that sound still makes me jump at times. It happens after you've seen war, so I'm not going to tease you."
Eren snuffled up his grief and whispered, "What am I going to do without you?"
The loneliness in his voice ached Levi's heart. "You no longer have to worry about that. I told you, I can keep you here." He playfully kissed the tip of Eren's nose. "You're my prisoner now, remember?"
Eren smiled faintly. "Ja."
Two flashes struck, one after the other, and the noise rattled the windows. Eren let out a cry, and Levi squeezed him tightly, sheltering him from those painful horrors.
Eren was thankful that Levi was there. He knew, of all the people in this world, Levi understood exactly what it was like to survive a massacre and the guilt of living when others died. He knew what it felt like when the trauma of life got too dark for the soul to see any light.
Levi did not scold him nor tell him to calm down. He simply hugged Eren and rubbed his back comfortingly.
"Ich brauche ... I need a Zitrone. I don't know the word."
Levi raised an eyebrow. "Zitrone? Do you mean a citron? A lemon?"
"Ian Dietrich said eine Zitrone keeps away ... um, Albträume ... bad dreams? Sorry, I can't think," he sighed, realizing that his brain was in too much of a fog to remember foreign words.
"Nightmares." Levi looked around. "Carly has that bowl of fruit. I don't think there are lemons, but I saw an orange. Will that work?"
Eren whispered wearily, "Vielleicht. Maybe."
Levi rolled over and turned on a lamp on the nightstand. He walked to the table with the bowl of fruit and found one of the oranges. He brought it over.
"Cut it in half," Eren explained. "You ... um ... smell. You smell it."
Levi went to where he had set aside his knives, pulled one out of its sheath, and sliced the orange in half. He brought it over to Eren, who pulled the orange up to his nose, inhaling the sweet, citrus aroma. Like the lemon, it brought his mind out of phantom visions of the past and pulled him back into the present. He realized it was juicy, so he licked the orange juice on top. It did not have quite the same biting reaction as the lemon, but it did help to ground him in the moment.
He looked around the room, the scarlet drapes, the oak wardrobe, the rumpled red and gold duvet, and then over to Levi, who sat beside him, softly caressing his shoulder to help ease him out of the fears. Eren smiled faintly in gratefulness.
All the horrors of what he had seen in battle melted at the warmth of Levi's gentle gray eyes.
"Don't waste that orange," Levi chided.
Eren smirked, slid his tongue out, and sensually licked up the juice on the top. Levi let out a scoff, but his cheeks flushed at seeing Eren so sexy.
Levi took the other half of the orange, pulled away the peel, and separated the wedges. He held one out to Eren, who opened his mouth and slowly sucked the wedge in past his lips, trying to be sensual about it. He saw from the way Levi's jaw twitched, it was working.
"It's sweet," he whispered with an enticing look down to Levi's lips.
Levi took both halves of the orange and set them aside. Then he took one more wedge, crawled back to Eren, and slid it into his mouth. Eren again sucked on it, and Levi softly pulled the wedge in and out of his lip.
"Damn, Eren," he whispered. How could this brat make even this so erotic?
He shoved the wedge in, then leaned in to kiss him. Eren had juice from the fruit bursting in his mouth, while Levi's lips smothered him and his hands began to roam. Eren quickly chewed the orange and swallowed it down so he could part his lips.
Levi's tongue plunged in, tasting the sweet orange. Eren pressed Levi back, leaning on top of him, their tongues swirling, tasting, each plunging into the other.
Levi's hands slid down Eren's lean body to his hips, and he pulled Eren to climb on top. Eren's leg swung over to straddle Levi, and his hips made a thrust against him. He was not aroused yet, but he felt that Levi was.
Eren pulled up with crimson cheeks, breathless and his heart racing.
"Are you okay?" Levi immediately asked, worried if this was too much for Eren, given the shell shock trauma.
Eren leaned down over him and begged in a whisper, "I need you! I need to feel alive."
Levi reached down to Eren's flaccid penis. "Tell me what you want."
Eren pulled his hips back away from Levi's hand. "Not me. You. I need to touch you. I need to know that you like it. Myself being pleasured, that isn't something that makes me feel alive. It's giving pleasure to you, Levi. That lets me know the world is going to be okay."
"So, you want me to hand over my body for you to play with?" he asked with a teasing smirk.
Eren panicked as he realized how bad that sounded. "Not like that!"
Levi chuckled at his horrified face and pulled Eren down into a kiss. "I've given you my heart. Of course I'd give you my body." He ruffled up his brown hair and teased, "My greedy takhshet."
"Then, is it okay?"
Levi kissed him again. "Make me feel good. That's an order ... prisoner!"
Eren chuckled at the mischievousness in his face. Levi did not used to be like this, but as they grew closer, Eren got to see this playful side.
He kissed all along Levi's throat, eliciting hums of pleasure. Just as he was kissing up toward his ear, there was another flash of lightning, followed by thunder. Eren flinched and grasped hold of Levi, who hushed him and stroked the fear out of him again.
"It's all right. Keep going."
Eren knew it was just the storm, and he was frustrated at his mind's own fears and nightmares.
"How about you suck my dick?"
Eren laughed at how nonchalant Levi sounded. He was just trying to help Eren get out of the sinking fear, but it was so funny to hear him say that like it was suggesting what meal he might like off the menu that was his entire body. As for Eren, he loved devouring that particular dish.
Eren slithered down and gave Levi's cock a long, slow lick. His tongue swirled around the head before plunging down.
Levi groaned loudly. "You really are addicted to that."
Eren hummed, not bothering to refute it. This was his way to pamper Levi, to feel alive and useful and wanted for all the good he could not, not just his skills as a soldier.
However, as the sky flashed again, Eren yanked back, and not even a second later, another window-shaking explosion of thunder left Eren curled in a ball and screaming. Levi rushed to his side and held him.
"Verdammt!" Eren screamed, punching the bed in frustration. He hated this sort of fearful reaction, and he wished he could push it aside like he had so often pushed other emotions away.
"Come on." Levi took both of his hands and pulled Eren forward. "Into the bath. The sound of the water will drown out the thunder."
Eren let himself be guided into the adjoining room. He sat in the massive tub, and Levi turned on the water. Not on full, though. The water filled slowly, and the sound dampened the thunder. He had also seen a gramophone in the corner of the main room. He brought it into the bathroom, put on a record, cranked the handle, and sensual jazz music played out of the giant brass bell. Then Levi shut the bathroom door, and the sounds of the storm completely vanished.
Levi took the opportunity to use the toilet. Eren watched him, feeling weary from the emotional clash.
"I'm sorry." Eren's eyes sank in misery. "You take such good care of me."
"Someone has to," Levi grumbled, focused on the toilet bowl.
"You've had it far worse than me."
"It's not a fucking competition." He flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and then climbed into the bathtub, settling on top of Eren's lap and leaning back against his chest. "I take care of you because I know what it's like, and I don't want you to feel like you have to suffer alone."
"Still, I feel like ... you're always carrying me across a battlefield, if that makes sense."
Levi rubbed Eren's bandaged arm resting on the rim of the water. "Idiot!" he scoffed. "That's what it means to be in love."
Hearing Levi say that soothed Eren's heart. "Say that again."
"No."
Instead, Levi rolled around to be face-to-face with Eren. This brat! Of course he would take care of him when he was weak. That was what it meant to be partners.
Levi leaned over and kissed Eren, who hummed in bliss. Their bodies slid together as the water slowly filled the tub and the music filled the room. Eren could barely hear the thunder, and it was not scary when his own moans and Levi's soft French words blended to the saxophone and trumpet.
Levi wanted to keep Eren's mind busy. He varied his attacks, striking bites along the neck, followed by pinching Eren's nipples until his back arched with sweet cries, and then swiveling his hips until they both cursed in French and German, yet never did he give him enough to end the fun.
He didn't want it to end.
If they could have stayed like this, teasing and pleasuring one another until the storm passed, he would. Yet he felt the water creeping higher and higher up the tub, starting to slosh out as their hips rocked against each other.
Let it all flood over!
Then Levi felt Eren suddenly reach down into the water, desperate to give himself the last few strokes he needed. Levi grabbed his arm, yanked it up, and kissed the bandages.
"You don't want that to get wet."
"Bitte! Please!"
"Should I tie you up again so you don't ruin your bandages?"
Just thinking about it made Eren groan.
Levi sat up and finally turned the faucet off. Some of the noise from the storm sneaked through now, but Eren looked unconcerned. Perfect! This was what Levi wanted, to capture his mind and make him think of nothing else.
They kissed and touched, keeping each other aroused but yearning for more. As the water began to turn cold, Eren looked up to Levi.
"Can we ... you know ... now?"
Levi smirked. "Ask properly."
Eren bit his lip as his flustered mind tried to think of English words. How did one even ask for that? Was there a proper way in English? "Can we ... make love?"
Levi leaned over and gave him a teasing peck on the lips. "We could."
Eren pouted. Not can we. His father had taught him the proper way. "May we make love?"
"Say please."
"Please!" he moaned. "May we please make love now?"
"Do you want me in your arse so badly?"
"Yes!" Eren felt like if he had to wait much longer, his body might not hold out.
"Do you still want to say goodbye to Armin?"
"Um ... yes." What did that have to do with sex?
"Then not yet. If you go walking into that hospital limping from a sore arse, it'll be suspicious."
Eren huffed in frustration. "Then I can talk to him tomorrow."
Levi chuckled at his stubbornness. "Let's get some breakfast. We'll go see him, and then we'll come right back. Is there anyone else you want to say goodbye to?"
"Jean, but that might be a bad idea. He'll just get mad and try to talk me out of it."
Saying goodbye ... this was the next step. It hurt to think about it. Jean was about to be sent to Saarbrücken, while Armin was getting sent to the Saint-Avold hospital. Eren was unsure if he could have actually made this choice if those two were not already destined to leave Metz. They meant so much to him. So did the others, but not at the same level as his friendship with Armin.
They finally got out of the bathtub as the water went cold and their fingers and toes pruned. They stood on the fluffy bath rug as they dried off, getting in a few extra kisses and sensual touches, reluctant to leave this steamy warmth and face the cold reality of the world outside.
Finally, the record ended, and they left the comforting heat of the bathroom. The icy bedroom with the sound of rain drumming down, pelting the window, and crackles of thunder were grim reminders of the battle outside.
They dressed, and Eren headed down to fetch food. Levi realized he had left his shoes, wig, and coat back with the Resistance, so he went through the secret passageway while Eren was in the kitchen.
Levi entered the large underground room, but it was still dark, and he heard the sounds of two dozen snores. Levi walked over to where he knew there was a light switch and flipped it on, blasting the room with electric light.
"Off your arses, you pathetic sleepyheads!" he barked out, causing many in their bunk beds to jolt. Levi marched swiftly over to his bed and saw that at least his men had been nice enough to dry out his stuff. He grabbed his bag and packed his regular men's clothes and shoes, that way he could stay with Eren and not have to wear the dress the whole time.
Eld approached him. "Good night?"
Levi grunted, not about to tell them details. "At least things seem to be looking hopeful."
"Are the Allies making a move?"
"I meant personally. My boyfriend is finally leaving the Wehrmacht. About damn time!"
Eld's brow tensed. "Is that wise? They'll be looking for him. What if the Gestapo comes here?"
"He'll be seen leaving this brothel, he'll talk to one of his men, and then he'll simply vanish. With this storm, they won't search all that hard for him. They'll probably think he drowned in the river."
Eld sighed in frustration. "Please tell me you are not thinking of keeping him here."
Levi scowled and muttered, "Only if I have to."
"No! Look, it was skirting on the edge of danger just associating with him and telling him which building we're in. If he knew precisely how to get here ... does he know about the secret door?"
Levi pouted stubbornly.
"Levi!"
"I trust him!" he shouted. "He's quitting the army, we're going to burn his uniform, and that will be the end of it. No more sneaking off to spend nights with him. Now if I do spend time with him, at least I'm where you can reach me in an emergency."
Eld muttered, "I'm not so sure any of us have the balls to interrupt you two. I'm just voicing my opinion: I really don't like this, and the rest of the men will be completely against it. Keep him up in that room, and if you really must bring him down, he remains blindfolded. I don't want him to see our faces. Is that acceptable?"
"Agreed."
"Good. We don't need more men acting out like Duran."
Levi glanced around. "Where is that bastard? I should smooth things over with him."
"I kicked him out."
Levi jolted back to Eld in horror. "You did what?"
"We don't need that sort of division—"
"Where is he?"
"I had Ouro follow him after he left."
Levi sighed in relief. "Good. He's a liability now. Send someone to find Ouro and have him pass on this message: Duran is to leave Metz today. If he is still in the city by sunrise, he will wake up to my knife piercing his neck."
Eld's brow tightened. "Would you really kill him?"
"To protect this group? I'm highly tempted to go slit his throat right now. You're all too important. Get on it as soon as you can."
"He would take such a message more seriously if he heard it from you directly. With full respect, Captain Levi, you're terrifying!"
Levi let out a sigh. He had really not wanted to leave Eren at all today, but to protect these men, Eren would just have to stay by himself for an hour. "Fine. Find Ouro, figure out where Duran is, and I will be back soon. I'm going to the hospital."
"The hospital?" Eld asked in worry, looking Levi over for injuries.
"With E- ... With my boyfriend. It's why I need this stupid wig," he said, shaking the messy blond hairs. "He wants to speak to his wounded buddy before leaving the army."
"Wouldn't talking to someone else cause even more problems?"
"Actually, this other soldier knows about our relationship and also told him to leave the army. So no, it won't be a problem, and it will place him outside of the brothel before his disappearance. Now, what supplies should I steal while I am there?"
"Bandages, antiseptic, pain relievers if you can find them."
Levi grabbed his lady's purse. "I'll stuff this full of all I can filch. Hopefully, by the time I'm back, you'll have found Oruo, and we can deal with this issue. The next time there's a confrontation like that, the harsh reality is that you have two choices: keep the person prisoner, never allowed to leave your sight, or kill them. A rat on the loose will end up biting you."
Flagon walked up to the two, still with disheveled blond hair sticking up from sleep. "I told you it wasn't a smart move."
Eld glared over at him. "I asked you if you thought I did the wrong thing, and you said no."
Flagon bristled at being corrected. "Well, we couldn't very well let him stay here complaining all night. He might have swayed others, and then we'd have an insurrection on our hands."
"You didn't suggest any alternatives."
Levi held his hands up. "I'm stopping you both right there. Work together to find Ouro, once you have Duran's location, hold him there and come get me. If he causes trouble, eliminate him."
Levi grabbed his gear and marched out. He was hoping for a relaxed trip to the hospital to allow Eren to have as long of a goodbye as he needed to feel satisfied in his soul. Now, he felt pressured to get back as soon as possible.
"Levi!" Flagon called out.
He stopped and spun around.
"Try not to be in the middle of fucking when we come get you."
Levi flipped him a two-finger salute before leaving. As he headed up the passage, he could already smell the breakfast Eren had fetched for them.
Not be in the middle of fucking? Well, there go my plans for this afternoon! Eren will just have to wait until tonight.
* * *
The French Resistance prepared for the day with a man named Kemper Boltz—the on-again-off-again boyfriend of Carly—going to the kitchen to sneak out enough breakfast for over twenty freedom fighters. It was usually just a pastry, boiled oats, and perhaps some slices of bacon if they were lucky.
Carly warned them that she had to report her food consumption to the authorities, who tightly regulated rations. She could not account for as much food as she would need to feed them all properly; however, if she had a busy night and charged each client for a meal they did not eat, then she could get away with sparing some of the supplies and not arouse suspicion.
They brewed their own coffee, something Flagon had managed to smuggle in and guarded preciously. As the men ate, they sang a song all of them had learned, despite the Germans trying to ban anyone in France from hearing it. Still, the BBC played it, and France listened!
* * *
Ami, entends-tu
Le vol noir des corbeaux
Sur nos plaines?
Ami, entends-tu
Les cris sourds du pays
Qu'on enchaîne?
Ohé! partisans,
Ouvriers et paysans,
C'est l'alarme!
Ce soir l'ennemi
Connaîtra le prix du sang
Et des larmes!
Montez de la mine,
Descendez des collines,
Camarades!
Sortez de la paille
Les fusils, la mitraille,
Les grenades...
Ohé! les tueurs,
À la balle et au couteau,
Tuez vite!
Ohé! saboteur,
Attention à ton fardeau:
Dynamite!
C'est nous qui brisons
Les barreaux des prisons
Pour nos frères,
La haine à nos trousses
Et la faim qui nous pousse,
La misère...
Il y a des pays
Ou les gens au creux de lits
Font des rêves;
Ici, nous, vois-tu,
Nous on marche et nous on tue,
Nous on crève.
Ici chacun sait
Ce qu'il veut, ce qui'il fait
Quand il passe...
Ami, si tu tombes
Un ami sort de l'ombre
À ta place.
Demain du sang noir
Séchera au grand soleil
Sur les routes.
Sifflez, compagnons,
Dans la nuit la Liberté
Nous écoute...
#
Friend, do you hear the dark flight of crows over our plains?
Friend, do you hear the muffled cries of our country being chained?
Hey, partisans, workers, and peasants, this is the alarm!
Tonight the enemy will know the price of blood and tears!
Arise from the mine, go down the hills, comrades!
Get out of the straw the rifles, the machine guns, the grenades...
Hey, killers, by bullet or by knife, kill swiftly!
Hey, saboteur, beware of your load: dynamite!
It is we who break the prison bars for our brothers,
The hatred on our heels, and the hunger that pushes us, the misery...
There are countries where people are in their beds dreaming;
Here we, you see, we march and we kill, we die.
Here, everyone knows what he wants, what he does, when he passes...
Friend, if you fall, a friend comes out of the shadows to take your place.
Tomorrow black blood will dry in the bright sun on the roads,
Sing, companions, in the night Liberty listens to us.
* * *
They were just starting up a second round of the song, "Ami, entends-tu le vol noir des corbeaux sur nos plaines?" when suddenly the side door burst open. Guns pulled out in a flash, but they recognized Ouro right away. He was dripping with water, and his face was flushed from running.
"Levi!" he cried out frantically, almost collapsing.
Eld stomped forward. "Why aren't you watching Duran? I was about to send men to find you."
"He escaped," Ouro said, panting hard and grabbing his chest from a long run in the rain. A puddle was already forming under him as his drenched clothes streamed down. "I left for not even a minute to go take a piss in an alley, and when I came back, he had stolen a motorcycle and was speeding off. I tried to follow, but there was no way, so I ran back here."
"Shit," Eld hissed. "You rest. Kemper," Eld called out. "Convince that girlfriend of yours to give you more wine so Oruo can recover."
"Carly won't like it," the long-haired man warned. "And she's not my girlfriend. We just fuck."
"Then give her a really good fucking later, I don't care! Just fetch him something to eat and drink. I'll go get Levi."
Flagon shouted out, "Remember to knock before entering or he might throw a knife into your eye socket."
"I know," Eld said, and he ran to the door that led up to Carly's private room.
At the top of the hall, Eld knocked a pattern they had agreed upon. He waited, but there was no answer. Leaning away, just in case Levi really did throw a knife, he pushed open the false wall. It slid outward, and he saw the scarlet decor of the brothel room.
"Levi, pardon me, but there's an emergency."
Eld waited, but he heard nothing. He stepped inside and looked around. The lights were off. He saw the messy bed, condom wrappers on the nightstands, and a wet towel left to the side.
"Levi?" he called out quietly.
Eld crept around the massive bed to the bathroom and looked inside. That was also empty, and on the sink he saw the sort of hairpins Levi used to hold his wig in place.
"Shit." Eld turned and hurried back through the secret entrance before any of the cleaning ladies came in to tidy up. He ran back down into the French Resistance's room. "He already left."
Ouro had just gotten out of his drenched coat. "What do we do?"
Eld's brow furrowed. Without Levi there, he supposed he had the highest seniority. Still, he asked himself, what would Levi do?
A rat on the loose will end up biting you.
"We go after Duran. Ouro, where was he heading?"
"He spent the night in Église Notre-Dame. He drove down Rue de la Chèvre, must have realized I was chasing him because he made a sharp turn onto Rue du Grand Cerf, followed by an immediate left onto Rue Dupont des Loges. When I realized he was heading to the police station on Rue du Coetlosquet, that's when I turned around."
"Then that's the first place to go. Hugo, Claude..."
"Which one?"
"Duvalier, can you two drive a car?"
"Yes, sir," they both answered.
"Good. Use the cars and try to find Duran. Duvalier, you'll take Lima and Yan, check the police station. Hugo, take Waltz and Harold, drive to the Gestapo headquarters. None of you go into those buildings! Just keep an eye out for Duran. If you see him alone, grab him and bring him back here for interrogation. If he's with anyone in a uniform, send one of your men back here to report, and then try to follow if you safely can. It's less than a kilometer, so you can run back easily."
"Yes, sir!" shouted the two groups, and they began to pull on coats and hats.
Flagon came forward. "We need to evacuate."
"Hey, wait up!" yelled Oruo. "Isn't that going too far?"
Eld stared ahead, running through scenarios. "If Levi was here, he would put the safety of the group first. Flagon is right: we'll evacuate, but slowly. Just like Levi taught up, spread out, uneven intervals, each man heads in a different direction. Aim for the churches, so we know where to look for you. If no one comes to get you by morning..." Eld's brow tightened. "...assume the worst. Go to the Cathedral for morning mass, regroup, and carry on."
Heads lowered. They all realized how serious this was.
"Flagon, Oruo, help me organize them. Take only what fits in a small bag, and make sure you have a weapon. We keep fighting, no matter what! Let's hurry."
* * *
Levi had told Eren he would come with him to say farewell to Armin, mostly because he feared that if he left Eren alone, he might change his mind. More than anything, Levi wanted Eren to leave this war behind before he got killed.
Walking through hallways full of German soldiers, he realized how foolish this was. Wounded men lined the halls, while nurses with bloody aprons raced back and forth. It was pure chaos, which worked well for Levi to keep attention away from him, but it also meant more chances that someone might bump into him and knock off the wig.
Eren seemed to realize the issue, because he kept an arm around Levi the whole time, holding him protectively close as they went through white corridors to a ward for head wounds.
Finally, they reached Armin's room. The young soldier was sitting up in bed reading a book. Hearing the door open, Armin looked up and smiled broadly when he saw the lieutenant walk in.
"Eren!" Then he noticed the little blond beside him. Armin's enthusiasm dropped, and he jolted at seeing those narrow, dark gray eyes. "What's going on?"
Eren closed the door behind him, and Levi immediately began a thorough sweep of the area, feeling under lampshades for hidden microphones, as well as swiping some bandages he found on a dresser, shoving them into his purse.
There were two other hospital beds, and Eren realized that one looked disturbed. "Are you alone?"
"For the moment." Armin nodded over to the rumpled bed. "New roommate. He had some shrapnel embedded in his cranium. Poor man was left with the mind of a toddler. They took him for more surgery about an hour ago. He may be back ... if he pulls through."
"Then I'll be quick. I'm leaving."
"Being shipped out?" asked Armin. Eren replied with a tiny shake of his head and a glance over to Levi, who was pilfering a nurse trolley that was his jackpot for medications. A smile burst onto Armin's face. "With him? Are you running away together?"
"More accurately, he's taking me prisoner."
"Not to the Americans, I hope!"
Eren laughed and blushed. "No. Just him."
Armin tittered softly. "A personal prisoner, huh? Well, he definitely captured you a while ago."
"I ... I wanted to say..."
All morning, Eren had been struggling with what to tell Armin. He was more than just a soldier under his command. Armin had saved his life more than once. He had helped him with Levi. In just a year, he became the closest friend Eren ever had in his life.
Now, realizing they would be separated and may never see one another again, words escaped him.
Armin spoke instead. "Thank you for your service, First Lieutenant Jäger."
Such formal words, like Armin was giving him permission to quit the military. He served Germany, and now he could relax. Tears welled up in Eren's eyes.
"I'm sorry," he choked out. Hearing Armin's acceptance made leaving even more painful.
"Don't be. They're evacuating me with the injured anyway. Just promise you'll write to me. Here, let me give you my address. Hand me that pen and paper."
Eren gave him a notepad sitting to the side with a fountain pen on top. Armin wrote down his address, ripped the page out, and handed it to Eren.
"I might not be back home for a while, but I want to know that you made it."
"Of course I'll write. And Armin ... thank you for everything. Truly! I wouldn't be alive without you, and..." He glanced down to Levi, who had finished stealing supplies and returned to his side. "...I wouldn't have been brave enough to do this."
Armin waved it off. "You don't need to thank me, Eren. It's what a friend does." He looked to Levi and said in slow French, "Prenez soin de lui s'il vous plaît." Take care of him please.
Levi silently nodded.
Armin looked back to Eren. "Farewell, Oberleutnant Jäger."
"I'm not that anymore. Just Eren, from now on."
"I'll still think of you as my lieutenant, my commanding officer, and my best friend. As the Americans say, 'Until next time.'"
Eren smiled painfully. Would there really be a next time?
They turned to go, but Eren looked down to Levi first.
He asked in English, "Did you get everything you need?"
In a whisper, he answered, "Good enough. Let's get out of here. The sooner we get back, the better I'll feel."
With a final wave goodbye to Armin, they left the hospital room. At the nurse's station, Eren went to a cluster of women in nurse uniforms while Levi drifted off to pretend he was looking at a statue of a saint.
"Hello," Eren said with his most charming smile. "I'm First Lieutenant Eren Jäger. I just want to thank everyone who has been taking care of my soldier, Armin Arlelt."
He lifted up a paper bag full of pastries, compliments of Carly. On the front he had written 'From Oberleutnant Jäger to the Sainte-Blandine nurses. Thank you.'
The nurses cheered up at smelling the buttery pastries and thanked him over and over again. Eren smiled as they began to eat and briefly chatted with them. After they were all smiling and distracted, he turned to go.
That was his alibi.
As soon as Levi saw that the nurses had stopped looking at Eren and were focused wholly on the food, he casually joined up beside him as the two walked to some stairs, trotted down to the ground floor, and exited the hospital, going back out into the thunderous storm. Eren popped open an umbrella, and the two of them headed north back toward the brothel.
This was all part of the plan. The first person to question Eren's whereabouts would be his platoon when he did not show up for drills or return calls. Floch would report he dropped Eren off at the brothel. The brothel girls as well as many soldiers, including Jean, had seen Eren leave alone that morning—Levi exited soon after through a side door. Carly would tell anyone looking around that he had headed to the hospital.
From there, Armin could honestly tell anyone that he had seen Eren that morning. The bag of pastries with his name on it showed he was truly there, and now the nurses would remember the kind, handsome lieutenant who gave them food.
Those pastries would take suspicion off the brothel. Now, Eren just needed to return to the room without being seen.
Return ... and vanish.
Missing in action.
Leaving behind his men, his friends, his countrymen.
Eren stopped sharply, and Levi almost kept walking outside of the cover of the umbrella. Eren stared forward, his eyes huge and shaking. As the full reality began to hit him, it was like a vacuum had sucked the air out of his lungs.
"Was zur Hölle tue ich hier? Worauf lasse ich mich nur ein?" What the hell am I doing? What am I getting myself into?
Cold dread tingled down his arms. Leave the army? Never! For the rest of his life, he would be nothing more than a traitor, a deserter, a coward.
Levi rested his hand on Eren's arm, trying to pull him out of this moment of doubt.
As softly as possible with still being heard, Levi said, "One week. You promised."
Eren glanced down at him. The blond wig was starting to look awful, slumping with wear, especially with all the bad weather over the past two days. Instead, Eren focused on the eyes. Those were the narrow eyes that gazed at him with so much love and care. Then he felt Levi reach over and take his hand, squeezing his fingers and rubbing over the wedding ring.
Eren weakly smiled, reminding himself why he was doing this: for Levi! "One week." He had promised: for one week he would not escape. "I think, when we get back, you need to tie me up again."
Levi snorted a laugh. "You enjoy that a little too much, brat."
They fell silent and began to walk again. They came to a plaza where multiple streets merged all together in Metz's typical maze of roads.
Right at that moment, they heard the siren of a police car. On pure instinct, Levi pulled back, wedging himself between a stone wall and some wooden crates. Eren glanced back at him a little too late. Now, he was in view of the police, and if he tried to hide, it would be suspicious. So he stood on the edge of the plaza and watched as car after car raced by, sending up sprays of water in the partially flooded plaza. Behind the police, a black Mercedes brought up the rear like a shepherd herding his sheep.
For a brief moment, Eren caught sight of the man riding in the back of the car.
"Magath!" he gasped.
Once they passed, Levi stepped out with narrow, alarmed eyes. They were heading toward Carly's brothel.
"Mon dieu!"
It could be coincidence, there were many businesses along this road after all, but a heavy coldness sank in Levi's gut. He just knew this was trouble.
"Levi!" a man hollered.
Eren bolted to Levi's side and pulled out a gun to protect him. However, Levi recognized the dark-haired man jogging up the street, and he placed a hand over Eren's gun.
"He's one of mine."
Eren nodded and stowed his Luger.
"Harold," Levi said, waving him to come over to where he had been hiding a moment ago. "What's going on?"
"Duran," he panted in exhaustion. "He betrayed us. Eld sent a few of us to scout the police station and Gestapo headquarters. We were there maybe half an hour when we saw Duran leave with a few men in Gestapo uniform. That's when we heard the sirens coming from the police station. I was heading back to warn the others, but ... it's already too late." His face drew up in fierce determination. "What do we do?"
Levi glared at the retreating sound of sirens echoing through the streets of Metz. "We follow the bastards!" Then he looked at Eren. "Go back and talk to Armin a little longer. I'll find you when I'm done."
"I'm not leaving you," Eren said firmly.
"This is not your fight."
Eren's head stiffened. "It is now."
Levi's mouth dropped in shock. Was Eren seriously ready to fight for the Resistance?
"Levi!" Harold hissed in urgency.
Levi shook out the emotions. "Then let's go."
They raced down the street, following the sounds of police sirens, knowing that this confrontation could only end in blood.
# # #
# #
#
This chapter is called "The Storm That Was the Calm" for a reason.
Above is the precipitation map in Europe for November 7, 1944. Do you see that purple and black spot? That's right around Metz. At its worst, the storm dumped 122 mm (about 5 inches) of rain in 24 hours. It flooded the rivers, turned fields to mud, and stopped all military movements for a while. This massive storm actually affected the whole war by grounding all aircraft and delaying General Patton's plans to attack Metz.
(Nazi poster against "Degenerate Music" with a racist depiction of a gay African Jew (notice the earring in the right ear) playing saxophone. There is SO MUCH to unpack in that one poster, I feel gross even sharing it, but it perfectly shows how the Nazis used propaganda to sway public opinion. Below, a sign saying "Swing Is Forbidden - Reich Chamber of Culture")
Jazz Music – Carly really shows her rebellious streak by having jazz music records for the gramophone. Since I am a trombonist who got her start in jazz, allow me a moment to delve into the war against music that went on during WWII.
Hitler felt jazz was fremdländisch (alien) music, and it had to be eradicated in order for Germany to be pure. Thus, the Nazi Party established the Reichskulturkammer (Reich Chamber of Culture) which destroyed foreign and Jewish artworks, and the Reichsmusikkammer (Reich Chamber of Music) which purged foreign and Jewish music from German concert halls, radio, and record stores. Jewish were stripped of their citizenship; thus, musicians and composers legally could no longer work. If they wanted to find employment, they had to join the Jüdischer Kulturbund (Jewish Culture League) which was presented as a way for Jews to express their music, but only to other Jews. Aryans were forbidden from attending their concerts; in fact, proof of Jewish ancestry had to be shown at the door. It was a form of cultural segregation.
The Reichsmusikkammer also banned foreign music like jazz. Classical German musicians like Beethoven, Mozart, and Wagner, as well as German marches, were encouraged. However, the rules were not strict at first. After all, such rules were meant to ban foreign musicians, but what if an Aryan played jazz trumpet? What if an otherwise classical piece had jazz elements? There were many loopholes, and musicians manipulated the poorly-written laws.
The laws on music were loosened in 1936 for the Berlin Olympic Games, which led to Germans hearing a new genre out of America, swing music. Young people really jived to the new sound, and it led to the rise of the Swingjugend (Swing Youth, also known as Swing Kids after the 1993 movie). Rather than just cliques for teens, this was very much a political statement, a protest against the Nazi Regime set to syncopated saxophones and sliding trombones. Many Swing Kids refused to participate in the compulsory membership of the Hitlerjugend (Hitler Youth) and Bund Deutscher Mädel (League of German Girls) and dodged military service in the army.
Germans love their music, and while bans on Cubist and Impressionist art made little impact on the average citizen who likely never set foot in an art museum, bans on music were a surprisingly sensitive issue, even within the highest ranks of the Nazi Party. Leader of the Foreign Policy Office of the NSDAP Alfred Rosenberg wanted an all-out ban on jazz, but Reich Minister of Propaganda Joseph Goebbels used jazz music in his propaganda to appeal to English-speaking audiences.
(The story of Germany Calling is truly fascinating, a radio show which enticed Americans and British to listen in by reading POW letters, with music by Charlie and His Orchestra using popular jazz songs that had the lyrics rewritten to discourage the Allies, make them feel powerless against the might of Germany, and turn them against Churchill and Roosevelt.)
Jazz was never outright forbidden by the Nazis, so the music continued, even if it went underground in big cities where local laws banned it. In 1942, Heinrich Himmler declared swing dance events were illegal, and ringleaders of the swing movement were to be arrested and sent to concentration camps. These were mostly just kids, though. Those under 18 were sent to Jugendschutzlager (Youth detention camps, concentration camps for young people). Since they were all categorized as politically oppositional prisoners, they were placed in the same block, and the music went on with singing and dancing after the lights went out.
In the adult concentration camps, Jewish musicians who had been arrested years earlier joined this new wave of Swing Kids, and underground jazz groups were formed. In the Sachsenhausen concentration camp, a group from Czechoslovakia founded a vocal octet called the Sing Sing Boys. In Buchenwald, inmates maneuvered ways to assign all members of the jazz orchestra Rhythmus to the same forced labor work, which meant they had opportunities to practice during their brief breaks and even performed concerts with the SS guards in attendance. Because the musicians were from various countries, they brought together the styles of their homelands, a cultural blend that turned jazz into something more than simply a musical style. It was an international protest against bigotry and intolerance!
* https://holocaustmusic.ort.org/politics-and-propaganda/third-reich/jazz-under-the-nazis
* https://holocaustmusic.ort.org/politics-and-propaganda/third-reich/swing-kids-behind-barbed-wire
* https://www.buchenwald.de/en/47/date/2022/04/11/jazz-im-konzentrationslager-buchenwald
Can I versus May I – This is usually heard in English elementary schools: a child asks "Can I go to the bathroom" and the teacher says, "I don't know, can you?" It's meant to teach children proper grammar. Both words mean to ask permission, but in 1926, a grammarian named Charles Lurie wrote a bestseller book that insisted the word MAY was formal because it dates back to Old English, while CAN was informal because it came about in the 1500s. (Apparently, he liked Chaucer more than Shakespeare.) There is absolutely no reason for the rule, not even the lame excuse usually given that one is Latin and the other is Germanic; no, Mr. Lurie simply made it up because one word was older than the other, and English teachers have spent 100 years following it. However, when a word has been in common use for 500 years, I think (and Merriam-Webster agrees) it has more than earned its place in the language. "May I" has fallen out of common usage, possibly due to children rebelling against the mockery of their English teachers. If you are around friends and ask "May I have a hot dog?" they will burst out laughing at how formal you sound. Yet you might want to know when to say "May I" in case you are ever in a formal setting with a sadistic Grammar Nazi who would gleefully mock you with "I don't know, can you?"
* https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/when-to-use-can-and-may
Le Chant Des Partisans (The Song of the Partisans) – Written in 1943, with lyrics by Joseph Kessel and Maurice Druon, and music by Anna Marly (who originally recorded it), it quickly grew to be the most popular song of the Free French Forces and the French Resistance during World War II. It was so popular that, after the war, it was proposed as a new national anthem for France.
LOCATIONS!
(1943 map showing original locations, plus the fictional brothel)
Duran's Path – After getting kicked out of the French Resistance, Duran had nowhere he could go, so he spent the night in the nearby Église Notre-Dame-de-l'Assomption.
I originally wanted him to go straight to the Gestapo, but I could not figure out where they were headquartered in Metz. So I reasoned, being a former police officer, Duran would have gone to the local police. In his mind, "It's not betraying France, because I'm turning to the protectors of France." They, of course, were under orders to redirect any information about partisans, spies, or traitors to the Gestapo. The police probably drove Duran straight to Gestapo headquarters, arriving before Harold, Hugo, and Waltz got there. (They did not see him arrive.) After a thorough questioning, the Gestapo would have requested backup from the local police and headed to the brothel.
(Google Maps version of Duran's path, from Carly's brothel, to the church where he stayed the night, to the police station. You can see Hôpital Sainte-Blandine just a few streets to the south)
This led to me playing around with Google Maps Streetview and my 1943 map of Metz, to see which streets Oruo would have chased Duran, and what direction he would have gone. It was a little challenging, since some streets were renamed after the war: Rue de l'Esplanade became Rue Winston Churchill, Rue Semenarie became Rue des Martyrs de la Résistance and the Rue Des Prisons Militaires is now Rue Marice Barrès (French writer and politician who, ironically for a street renamed after World War II, was a fervid anti-Semite and popularized the idea of "ethnic nationalism" in France, the same concept that led to the Holocaust).
The original police station used to be right next to the Esplanade, on the corner of Rue du Coetlosquet and Avenue Serpenoise (now Avenue Robert Schuman). Today, this block is home to a bus tour company, a pharmacy, a vintage clothing store, a McDonald's, and an escape room (oh the irony!)
(a modern police car driving past the original police station)
Imagine my cackling laughter when I was roaming around on Google Streetview, taking in the sights when, lo and behold, the camera captured a police car driving past the former police station. It almost felt like an homage to the past. I squealed and ran to show my husband, who looked at me with his "okay, sure honey" look when he has zero interest but thinks I'm adorable when I get excited.
(1943 map and modern Google Earth map of the churches of Metz during WWII. I spent way, WAY too much time hunting out all the churches from that old map, setting them up in My Maps, importing them to Google Earth, just to get rid of all the annoying "ad" landmarks. Dear Google, I seriously don't care about hairdressers, department stores, and McDonald's when I'm trying to search for CHURCHES, thank you very much!)
The Churches – If you want to spread your men out but have an easy way to find them again, having them wait in churches made sense. Metz certainly has no lack of churches: on my 1943 map, it doesn't name the churches, but I managed to line them up with modern ones. These were just the churches that the Allies marked as "no hit" zones. Note: they did not mark the Basilica of Saint-Pierre-aux-Nonnains, the oldest church in France, since it was being used by the Nazis as a military warehouse, so it's amazing that the place survived.
In total, the Allies marked 20 places of worship on their map of Metz. Why, just within a few streets of Carly's Brothel, there are 6 churches.
(WHY do you need 6 churches within 500 meters???)
There are WAY MORE churches today in Metz; for instance, the modernist concrete behemoth that is the Église Sainte-Thérèse-de-l'Enfant-Jésus de Metz, which started construction in 1938 and wasn't completed until 1954.
Personally, I think it's a bit weird. Why do you need THAT MANY churches of the same faith? I mean, my city has 20 places of worship (churches, synagogues, temples) but these include Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, Presbyterian, Baptist, Evangelical, Pentecostal, Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses, Seventh Day Adventist, Buddhist, Jewish, various nondenominational and interdenominational churches, plus churches that are specifically for Spanish and Korean congregations.
France is like, "We want a church on every other street, and they are ALL CATHOLIC! Okay fine, we'll allow a Lutheran church and a synagogue, I guess. Diversity!"
The Brothel – I purposely never state where Carly's brothel is located, because honestly, I have no idea where it might have been. Not even what area of town. I actually DID try looking on my old map, but this was something the U.S. military used for planning air strikes, so they could pinpoint military targets and avoid culturally important locations, so the map is limited to barracks, arsenals, churches, schools, hospitals, and museums. They didn't care about shops or apartments, let alone a brothel.
(A sushi shop called ... Sushi Shop. Really.)
I randomly picked a street-corner sushi shop (since I know that wasn't there during the war) and used that as my inspiration. NOT saying it used to be a brothel, but just a generalized idea.
(a barred old entrance marks the original hospital)
Hôpital Sainte-Blandine – Up to this point, I've been vague about which hospital Armin was sent to. According to my 1943 map of Metz, there were four hospitals in Metz. I picked one that was near the center of the city, figuring that as the Americans encroached on Metz, the wounded would have been brought closer and closer to the main part of the city. One of these was Hôpital Sainte-Blandine.
Built in 1870, the building survived the war, but advances in medicine made the old hospital antiquated. A modern facility was needed. A new hospital was built right across the street, where the Arsenal had been located, and the old barracks were bulldozed to make room for a parking lot for the new hospital (and an Aldi's).
(Like your grandmother's ugly curtains, the 1970s hospital hides the historic buildings from view unless you view it from the side.)
The building was the typical rectangular, blocky, "bar lines" design that made the 1970s one of the worst architectural periods in human history (in my opinion). Apparently, modern city planners agreed. The new hospital was an eyesore and hid many of the historic landmarks. In 2019, approval was given to demolish the 1970s building, restore the 19th century buildings, and make room for a greenway, stores, and more housing. Covid put the plans on halt, but construction is planned to begin in 2023 and finish in 2025. (So, by the time I finish this story? Haha!)
Hôpital Sainte-Blandine also happens to be close to the above-mentioned Sushi Shop I used as inspiration for the brothel, and near enough to the police station Duran would head to, so that the police cars would do along the same route Eren and Levi would be walking.
(postcard from Hôpital Sainte-Blandine, pre-1914)