Work Text:
*** A Note***
The word Shaker wasn’t his first love.
Walter carefully checked that he wasn’t followed, one glance over a shoulder. Two glances over the next. Walk fast, don’t hurry. Repeat.
The bundle of food he had tucked under his arm like a pile of useless rags dug into his ribs. He nodded to the policeman he passed, smiled to the woman with the carriage and skirted the kids in the street. He wasn’t the hunted. And yet if his destination and the man he had hidden was found, he would become the prey.
Sometimes, he wondered why he sacrificed himself for someone who was dead anyway. The war would never end, and he couldn’t stay hidden forever. Even if Max had wanted too…and he didn’t. Walter saw it in his eyes every time he visited.
The dark cold defeat, the way he withered away a little every day. He was so young, and so old. Walter had done that…at least partly. In trying to be the savior he had become another executioner. He had taken away the one solace Max wanted, the one thing he cried out for in his sleep. To die…with his family.
Walter couldn’t have saved more than one, and why he had chosen Max above, Max’s cousins, his mother, countless others…it was simple really. He had saved Max because he was a friend. To Max he lied. To himself he lied.
Max was a friend.
That was all.
***THE LIE***
The man with the feathered hair, and the dark eyes.
With lips pink and cold, and skin pale from the dark was just a friend.
The Nazi’s hated Jews, and countless others. Walter was a member of the Nazi party, by necessity rather than choice. Walter knew the categories of the hated, as he shouted Heil Hitler, as he raised his hand in salute, as curses for Jews fell from his lips. He knew to act on his thoughts was to join the ranks of the condemned. He was already damned by the country he lived in if they found out he was friends with a Jew. They would condemn him more for his love of one…and even more so if they knew the Jew he dreamed about had hips sharp like angles, a chest hard and flat, hair that fell over his head like the layers of a bird…. most importantly it was one chromosome of wrongness.
Max…was a male.
Walter reached his destination and slipped open the door. It was dark. The light has long ceased to fall into the hiding place as the sun moved across the sky and the brief hint of daylight disappeared with it.
“Max?”
He called out softly. In the dark it was quiet. Walter’s heart thudded. Max, was darkness. He lived in it now and every time Walter came he thought it might be the last time.
Sometimes the darkness was too powerful to resist, especially for those whose guilt at being alive seeped from their pores every waking moment.
“Max?” He called out again and heard a stirring. Max didn’t speak though. Carefully Walter lit the candle he had brought and shut the door behind him. As the flame flickered into being Max emerged, like a rat from the shadows. He crawled at first before straightening up. His legs shook and his clothes hung off him.
“Water?”
Wordlessly Walter passed over the bag. It had been a week since he could bring supplies. Five days for Max without food. Two without water.
Max grabbed the bottle inside sucking down water and gulping like a man dying from thirst. His hands were trembling as he held the bottle neck to his lips and drops splashed down wetting his collar. Walter watched for a moment longer before trying to drag his eyes away. His gaze lingered on Max. His throat bobbing as he swallowed, the half lidded eyes as he squinted them against the candlelight. The stubble darkening his jaw. Finally, Max lowered the bottle meeting his gaze. His voice was hoarse as he whispered pitifully. “Thanks.”
“It’s fine, I would have come earlier but it wasn’t safe.”
Max nodded, trusting him. No excuse was needed; Walter came when he could. And when he couldn’t he didn’t.
Walter turned away then unable to bear the gratitude. Unable to bear looking at Max when he knew that he could have come earlier…that he could have saved Max days of hunger and thirst and wondering. And why hadn’t he…not because it wasn’t safe…it always wasn’t safe. But this time, had been his choice. His choice to forget Max or try to forget him. If he allowed him to wither away, then the memories would go too, the desires, the wants.
He shook his head and walked to the corner that held the bucket where Max relieved himself. It was full, and the odor seeped out of the covered pail permeating the small living space.
Walter grabbed it, grimacing at the smell.
“Sorry.” Max was standing there, face flushed. Hands nervously fluttering. “I can—“he petered out. He couldn’t empty it himself. He couldn’t venture outside where he was hidden. One sighting of him and he was dead. They both were dead.
Walter just offered a wan smile. “Eat I’ll be back.”
He wasn’t long, and when he got back Max was waiting, the bag of food still untouched in front of him. He sat with his back against the wall and even though he had known Walter would be back, still he flinched as the door opened. He was scared, always so scared.
Walter hated the fear he saw in Max’s eyes.
***MAX’S EYES***
Hunted, and wide.
Like an animal’s who knows it will be killed.
Waiting for the Slaughter.
Waiting for the Inevitable
Walter settled next to Max and smiled again. “Eat.” Max still didn’t move he stood frozen. His face blank. Once again the guilt settled over Walter like a blanket. He knew Max was thinking. And he knew of what. His family. Always his family.
He had saved him, but not really.
He pretended not to see the tears in Max’s eyes or the way his hands shook. Gently he grabbed the bag from Max’s hand. Carefully he reached in and tore a piece of bread into pieces.
Max reached out grabbing his hand. His nails bit into skin. “Please, stay. Don’t leave me alone. Please. Not alone.” Max was mumbling, his words tripping over each other, a tear on his cheek, first one then another. They dripped down his face, off his nose, past his cheeks.
Walter’s own eyes burned.
“They come when I’m alone.”
Once again Walter didn’t need to ask who. Max’s family. Always his family. “I know.” Walter swallowed and added. “I’ll stay.” He reached out patting Max’s knees as he still looked frightened. “I can stay awhile.”
The tears halted, and Max didn’t move again except to nod. Walter carefully continued tearing the bread. “Eat.” He offered a piece to Max, and when that produced no response he poked a piece between Max’s lips. He chewed mechanically, swallowing the bite, and then the next Walter fed him.
By the third piece he reached out on his own and ate. First the bread, it went down fast, then the cheese and meat, he picked up speed and Walter didn’t have the heart to stop him as his starved stomach begged for food.
It was too much after five days of fasting. Max gagged and brought up a mouthful. He was crying as he spat. Walter waited, reaching out and rubbing Max’s back. The rest stayed down. Walter tucked the remaining food in the bag out of sight and wordlessly offered the bottle of water again. This time Max sipped then passed it back. An apology already starting on his lips.
“Sleep.” Max was exhausted, the terrors came in the dark, of that Walter knew. It was getting late and he had to be back but he had time for this. “I’ll be here when you awake.”
Max shook his head, but Walter hardened his voice, using anger where pleading wouldn’t do. Guilt where reason wouldn’t work.
“I didn’t go through all this trouble to save you for you to get sick and die because you won’t rest and don’t eat enough. Sleep!”
Even though none of that was his fault, guilt instantly colored his eyes. He closed them, and scooted away, curling in on himself. Walter watched him, as he shook with silent tears and even silenter fears. And he watched as he started to still, hesitantly Walter edged closer until he was pressed against Max. Max didn’t shift away, either too tired to care or to cold not to welcome the warmth.
As Max drifted off Walter closed his eyes, reaching out to rest a hand on Max’s shoulder. He breathed in time with the other man and felt his skin under his fingertips. Max was alive, another day he lived. They were alive. For now.
For who knew how long?
But at that moment, they were alive.
Each hidden, each hiding and each living in fear for the one’s the loved.
*** A PARTING GIFT***
There is only one thing promised in this world.
I am the promise. The first and the last.
Humans and their love are the in between.