<span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Lohengrin-Kaserne</span><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Military Base</span><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Yvonne &amp; Fabiano</span><br/>--------------------<br/><br/><br/>As the door opened, Fabiano found himself in a trance state type of situation. He felt his breath trapped in the back of his throat and he forced it out slowly. With the suppression of the sound of his sigh, came storming in his head the thoughts which he had been amusing himself with for the past thirty minutes. Right when he was so sure and confident about what he had brought himself to do, there he stood looking like a coward with really nothing to say. He parted his lips to pronounce something or anything, but no words came out for a moment as he simply stood there, forcing his eyes towards the woman. His first glance went to her arm, his second to her hair, the last one to her eyes, and there his own held hers.<br/><br/>A blush touched his thin mouth and then he slowly licked his lips discreetly, turning his full body to face the woman. An eyebrow came to arc above his left eye and he advanced his form closer to the doorway, completely ignoring the heat that was surging from every inch of his body. Instead of losing himself in his thoughts once more and regret it, Fabiano regained his thoughts and focused on the matter at hand.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Officer Wojcik”</span>The Italian began,<span style="font-style: italic">“In reality, I've been visiting a comrade in the third floor and as ... as I was making my way out I've noticed this man at your door. You know, the one with the black cape and hat?”</span>Fabiano looked away momentarily and a sincere smirk began to play on his sun-kissed facial complexion.<span style="font-style: italic">"But since we're here, would you ... like to go out for a short walk?</span>" His voice came low and heavy, but had also maintained a calm tone. He turned his face a little bit to the side and gave Yvonne a glance from now hooded eyes.<span style="font-style: italic">"Unless you were on your way out, then it's perfectly understandable if you cannot."</span>Fabiano drew a shuddering breath and his hands found their way inside his trousers' pockets as he made one short step backwards.<br/><br/>The man was practically stuttering.  He was under duress of some kind and that made her nervous.  Narrowing her eyes at the officer, Yvonne decided that the irony of Kohler's old partner and victim being at the door rather than the demon himself after having received such a letter would be a strange work.  She could feel the distancing aura of corruption left, something hanging about the Italian before her, but it a separate sensation all its own.  A cape and hat would be unusual through the barracks, particularly at this hour, and to have been noticed by none other than Officer Fabiano?  It seemed to odd to be a set-up.<br/><br/>Then again, if she dismissed all things that demons did as simple eccentricity, she might've fallen with them.<br/><br/>"Why would I take a walk at this hour?  I assume you don't mean through the halls here."  It dawned on her that he might have a room in the building as well, having been lent by the Royals as she had been from the Poles.  "Unless you are in need of an escort?"  After the words had been shared, she realized the implications and a small smirk came to her lips.<br/><br/>It was entirely possible the hellspawn in the hat and cape had been a frightening enough sight to warrant companionship from fear, but to ask the potential target of such a vision didn't seem logical, and not one that was so far from the staircase he would have been traversing.  Though it was possible he just came to check on the person of this apartment, his being right outside her door - and no less facing it - was farfetched coincidence.<br/><br/>Grabbing her coat, lined with fleece, she swung it on and holstered her weaponry along her belt in it's interior, unnoticeable beneath the length or through the thickness of the Sherpa.  Her prayer beads were laying with a glass.  She stole both up, downing the contents of the latter, and shared a bright smile with her guest; better to be prepared on all fronts.  Even if the walk lead straight to Kohler or another of his lackies, she had wanted to deal with this matter sooner than later, so it would be in her favor either way.<br/><br/>Stepping out the apartment with the well-dressed Italian, she crossed herself while locking the door and whispered a short prayer in original Latin.  She maintained a personal, open relationship with God.  The prayer did not follow doctrine and kept quiet details in code to Him, however she did finish with the standard "et ne nos inducas in tentationem; sed libera nos a Malo.  Amen."<br/><br/>The door locked, she turned back to Fabiano, taking a deep breath.  She looked at "us", for she had prayed on part of the soul before her, too, of course, and if she could deliver him from evil this night, it would be worth the risk of walking in the shadow.<br/><br/>When Yvonne mentioned if he needed to be escorted out, it made the man raise both his eyebrows and truth be said, he felt quiet confused by the offer.<span style="font-style: italic">“Why would I be in need of an escort, Officer Wojcik ?”</span>Fabiano's eyes narrowed and a small smile came to play on his lips again as he moved to the side, allowing the woman to step out. He did not feel offended although he may not have taking the words the easy way have they been spoken by another. That would have greatly insulted his manhood. He noticed that Yvonne was geared from head to toe and wondered if he hasn't been taking too much of her time already.<br/><br/><br/>Something wasn't quite right. The woman looked thoughtful. He shifted his gaze away from the woman as they began to walk down the hallway.<span style="font-style: italic">“Officer Wojcik, I can guarantee that I am doing fine. You have probably witnessed me at my most idiotic, miserable and weak moments when you have found me and I know that I have not been able to recover my memory loss since, but if this helps, I can assure you that I am safe and doing just alright. Do not take me wrong,”</span>He paused and pushed one of the barracks doors open as they exited out.<span style="font-style: italic">“but maybe it is time that we bring ourselves to focus on different matters. I thank you greatly for the help that you have offered. I just ... do not wish to speak of this one Nurse, or the Oberstleutnant at all, for now. I ... I just cannot bring myself to decide if I could trust what you have made me convey to the Colonel. Not because I do not believe in your words, but I cannot trust my thoughts. I cannot risk to testify before the Colonel incidents which I have no remembrance of.“ </span><br/><br/>Fabiano closed his eyes and sighed, pressing a hand behind his neck and inhaling back the cold mist that formed around him. He turned around on his heels and gave the woman one of his signature side glances. The heels of his winter boots dug into glistening snow as he closed the distance between them. The night was still dark but there was light coming out of couple projectors outside the building. The field projectors were positioned at a distance of 580m as to not project continuous light into the barrack's bedrooms, yet faint glow touched their faces, making their features in the dark recognizable to one another.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“If I may ask, who was that man? It is not usual that we see civilians masquerading in Victorian costumes inside the military base. And I cannot bring myself to wonder how he even got into the barracks past the security watch.”</span>Fabiano gently pressed his lips together and his thoughts exploded into myriads of questions.<br/><br/>Yvonne's jaw set.  He didn't want to talk about events, yet he asked her for a walk in which case he was talking about said events.  It was angering, to say the least.  She listened through the frustration, eyes forward, trying to keep focus on her surroundings but finding it difficult to do all three at once.  Relieved about his health, she used that to bring herself back to a state of calm skepticism, moreover that he made her sound as if she'd ordered him to lie - something she could never condone, let alone command, of another - which implied that what he had told her superior officer was, to his mind, a lie.<br/><br/>She sighed, defeated, maybe even disappointed.  "I only asked that you told him from<span style="font-style: italic">your</span>memory.  What you choose to speak is of your own volition."  He did the same.<br/><br/>The night was quiet around them.  Some muffled noise from the rooms gave little doubt as to what some soldiers considered within the bounds of acceptable behavior on the kaserne which she would gladly correct at a later time, but other than that, it was peaceful.  Snow glittered through the black like stars she could reach out and touch... she decided better of it.  Despite the dark aura and threatening note, despite the confusion and frustration of the man who was standing closer to her now in the open space than the tighter confines of indoor, and despite the paranoia she knew should be feeling, she couldn't ignore the serenity that filled her and the atmosphere for meters out - she checked, just in case.<br/><br/>When he brought up the messenger, it still could not ripple the gentle pool of energy around them.  He had no connection to the thing he conjured in his memory now, and that knowledge put her at far more ease, drawing her attention back from her sixth sense to her first.<br/><br/>His hands were tucked into his pockets in such a way, it caused him to bring his shoulders up and toward his face.  Maybe it was the cold.  It looked defensive to the woman trained in many years and many styles of combat, including mental, like this subconscious action now.  She still believed he was hiding something from her, and she supposed she couldn't blame him if he wasn't even comfortable enough to walk with her on an armed military base by his own invitation.  They had barely known each other for 24 hours - well, she did.  He couldn't recall meeting her until the last 18 or so.<br/><br/>"I did not see him," she told the Italian, looking away toward the white, distracting ground.  "I do not know him."  She wondered if honestly would be the best course of action here, or if it were better to leave the man in the dark so he might move on with his life.  As far as Officer Kohler was concerned, he had accomplished his mission with this mere mortal - he remembered nothing, and that would be enough, but Commander Wojcik would be his new target, and she could bring him to justice.  Fabiano, on the other hand, clearly was no match, and maybe it was better this way.  "And if you asked your nurse, she would likely tell you it was a result of your concussion, and to take it easy for a few days."<br/><br/>She stopped and looked at him, trying to get the silent message across.  He was right not to speak of these things and she would respect that, but if that were the case, he did not have need of her time any longer which he could be using for recovery and escape.  She asked him to choose his words and he believed he used someone else's - she would not make that mistake twice.  It was his life to choose, and she suspected this was why God gifted them such a peaceful moment, so that Officer Fabiano might have it to bare unto himself and accept, maybe so he could live a peaceful life in the Lord's name, to find his savior.  Sometimes living in the light was the greatest way to thwart the darkness.<br/><br/>Silence fell upon them once more and Fabiano used that brief moment to gather his thoughts. He read sincerity in her voice when she informed him of her unfamiliarity with the strange man at her door. It was stupid of him to even ask. The man had left her doorway before she even had a chance to see who the stranger was. Something in the air still made the Nazi soldier uneasy in his chest. He noticed the shortness of breath coming out between his lips, the numbness in his fingers and the rate and rhythm of his heart shifting between fluttering and pounding sensations. Irksome is how he could describe those feelings.<br/><br/>Fabiano looked at Yvonne, and could read disappointment plastered on her features. Maybe he deserved it after all and if he wronged her silently in his mind or even verbally as he did, then he hoped that she would forgive him. Whatever that happened to him that night, helped him feel much better than he ever did in his life, but at the same time, it planted a seed within his brain which flowered into a cognitive experienced called: Guilt.<br/><br/>He found himself thinking since about that one girl, always transfixed by the flashback. His companions were drunk that night and abused this one young soul in a dark street outside of her home in the ghetto. All the nasty beating took place, and a young male getting shot, yet the Italian found himself grinning the entire time and doing nothing to stop the soldiers. The most disgusting part about it, was that he was enjoying the sight that whole damn time. Her black hair, her brown eyes and the bloody wounds showing through her ripped dress and leggings - Ah! He could remember it all. It took place a couple of days after their arrival from Poland, only about a month and half ago. That same night, they took her father and mother but the girl managed to get away. He lowered his eyelids and suddenly he felt as if everything around him was like a vacuum susceptible to suck his life out at any time now.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Well, Officer Wojcik, I should get going ... I'm starting my shift in couple hours and I shall leave on a mission with Lieutenant-Colonel Kohler ... maybe I have enough time to brew myself a perfect cup of coffee to start the day on a pleasant mood.”</span>Fabiano took a shallow breath and wore his coat. He had secured it that entire time between right arm and waist while hands rested inside his pockets. His body had heated up due to a mixture of stress and excitement but now that his temperature was cooling down, he felt how cold the night truly was. He turned away and made a few steps towards the gates and the two security towers, when a twinge of unexpected emotions coursed through his being and he raised his eyes to meet Yvonne's as he turned around.<br/><br/>Why did it all suddenly feel as if he may never see her again after this day?  He found himself parting his mouth.<span style="font-style: italic">“If you haven't had your coffee yet, it will be a great honor for me if you would allow me to prepare one for you, Commander!?”</span>His lips slightly parted and curved into a clever yet small smile. The D-FAC was located at two blocks away within the base. It was almost 0430 and Fabiano thought that<span style="font-style: italic">just maybe</span>they could enjoy a peaceful breakfast before the early hungry birds raid the mess hall.<br/><br/>Her pale hand hung in the air.  Slender fingers curled naturally, fingernails clean and barely decipherable separate from the flesh.  It wasn't anything remarkable, much like the waitresses eyes hadn't been anything remarkable at breakfast with the father, the angel.  The backs were soft and smooth, but the underside opposite with callouses smoothed into one smooth roughness climbing up the base of each digit, earned over years from labors too numerous to count, but all of them examples of endurance and strength of body or mind.<br/><br/>Yet when Yvonne reached out for seniore Fabiano, it wasn't for any purpose of the like.  He had barely moved away, some dismissal of work.  She knew it had to do with Kohler, which had made her boil with a temporary fury made icy as soon as he mentioned starting his day in a pleasant mood, then turning away from her.  She didn't mean to think it, but she wondered if he wasn't in a pleasant mood now because of her.  It made her catch herself before she could do something stupid.  Afterall, nothing intelligent could be done if your head wasn't involved then, could it?  Which begged the question: what was she doing?<br/><br/>Suddenly, he turned around, almost shouting, “If you haven't had your coffee yet, it will be a great honor for me if you would allow me to prepare one for you, Commander!?”<br/><br/>She jumped slightly, making the distance between them seem so much larger.  The strange peace still lay over her, so Yvonne found herself doing something else she'd never done - tilting her head.  He invited her for a walk only to refuse talking about something he ended up talking about, dismissed himself readily shortly thereafter, then invites her to coffee?  All in the wee hours of the morning?  Maybe he didn't know her capabilities and intended to exhaust her via sleep deprivation before she joined Kohler herself later that evening.  Which meant good things - Kohler did not know her, either.  However, she had absolved him of possible participation, and she could feel God's hand guiding her ever so gently in the quiet.<br/><br/>"It would be my pleasure," she said, though she wasn't sure how much she meant the statement.  Something grew in the pit of her stomach then.  Anxiety.  She felt sick and happy and... sad all at once.  The word to describe it came easily to mind, but she could not suspect why.<br/><br/>It was bittersweet.<br/><br/>He offered his arm with an uncertain, but clearly relieved smile, and she threaded her calloused, soft hands around his elbow.  Again, something very alien to her.  She did not appreciate all this newness overtaking her, it was all so dissimilar and ill-conceived, but most of all - it wasn't like her one bit.  Was this a spell like Raphael had placed on the kaffehaus before, except meant to disarm her with... subtle confusions?  She would not be lost in this.  She would carry-on her task.<br/><br/>"You know God will still forgive you."  It would seem out of nowhere, and like most people who wanted salvation but did not believe themselves worthy, he would be surprised by her words, maybe even scared, something like the mixed sadness she felt now, that came from deep within, where knowledge was beyond logic.  She continued without an answer, "Whatever it is you fret about?  You are right - it is a horrible sin.  Maybe you can't forgive yourself and maybe whoever you trespassed against could not either.  Maybe I would want to strike you down where you stand were I to know.  But God is bigger.  He has faith in you to redeem yourself in His heaven.  Though you can never hope to earn his forgiveness you shall have it if you only have the faith in Him to ask."<br/><br/>She could not raise her eyes to him as they reached the building once more.  Usually so unashamed of her faith and so proud of His works, something about it felt hopeless, a path already set, already decided, but she had to try.  He opened the door for her, holding it away with one hand - which was a strain, she knew - offering for her to pass before him, but when she did, she turned abruptly on him, blocking him off from the doorway.  He had moved to enter, instead having to stop and catch the door from closing on either of them, Yvonne caught in the small space between it and his chest.<br/><br/>It took much effort for her not to notice.  Rather, she practically glared into his eyes, barely below her wide ones, pleading - she'd forgotten how tall she was until this moment and prayed she did not come off as intimidating as he seemed to think of her at that time.  Unless, of course, that was exactly what he needed.<br/><br/>"I could help," she told him.  "Do not go with herr Kohler tomorrow - today.  He is a demon and, do not doubt, working with him would be working with one.  No matter his alliances, he is the hand of the devil and his goals Satan's.  I cannot ask you to ignore your duty, so I will go in your place, but think on this: no medic would advise you to the field so readily, and that alone should be proof who truly makes these orders -  please!" She had never felt so desperate in her life.  She begged, "Instead, go to the church and pray! I<span style="font-style: italic">know</span>this is God's desire for you, to join him.  Please... let me save you."<br/><br/>As Yvonne went about God, forgiveness, sins and heaven, Fabiano remembered his mother's words and the thought itself made his lips curl once more into a smile, only discreetly this time as the couple walked away from the barracks, slow footsteps advancing towards the mess hall. He took a sharp intake of breath as he pulled the door open.<span style="font-style: italic">“After you!”</span>He said in a high, cheerful voice, allowing the woman to step in first. Suddenly he found himself almost bumping into her frame as she turned abruptly on him. He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. The closeness of their bodies inflamed his neck and cheeks and that was another strange event he could not comprehend. The Italian's eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. He backed away slightly to leave room for the two to breath, just enough ... to breath. An unknown force out there burdened his shoulders already with desperation. He was fighting to resist it. At this point, Fabiano was not even sure why this young woman have bothered his mind since the moment she assisted him with her help. The last thing he wanted was to get himself involved in the complicated matters of the heart. His life was out there, chained to dirty and bloody grounds.<br/><br/>Looking past those green eyes that were quiet attractive, and looking past the authenticity of her personality which he found himself drawn to; there stood a woman who was not pretending to be what she was not. There stood a woman who was pleading with him not to do something he may regret.<br/><br/>There stood a woman he was certain to take a grenade for.<br/><br/>His lips slightly parted and he sighed, pupils growing. He could hardly bring himself to understand which sorcery was controlling not only his mind, but also his soul. It felt holy, it felt just right but it also felt wicked. It felt unlike anything he had experienced before but then it was all too strange. It frightened him, it made him want to run away. It made him want to vanish, or disappear until he figures out what was going on with him.<br/><br/>Yvonne almost did. She almost did it again. He almost offered his thought-form on a silver platter once more.<span style="font-style: italic">“Yvonne...”</span>He began, addressing her by her first name for the first time ever. To hell with formalities at this point. His short and clean fingernails dug into his palm as he raised his eyes to stare at her, frowning.<span style="font-style: italic">“A demon? Did you hear what you're saying?”</span>His eyes softened but held a fixed intensity.<span style="font-style: italic">“The hand of the devil? But ... I know, I know what you mean. The world is upside down. It is too easy for us to blame the devil. Herr Kohler is one, our world leaders are one too. Humanity is... No one's innocent Officer Wojcik. Human nature I must say.”</span>Fabiano's head tilted slightly and a hand slowly found its way to the woman's arm. His eyebrows slanted in confusion but mostly pain, because he knew what was to come. He felt it silently coming. He knew that something horrible was to happen before the sun vanishes below the western horizon.<br/><br/>The man's right hand carefully covered the woman's left and he shuddered in the quiet twilight. His chest leaned a little forward, closing the tiny space between them. He felt as though invisible hands slowly and gently pushed his shoulders forward, into a place he could call a sanctuary. A bombardment of emotions battered his already ramshackled senses.<span style="font-style: italic">"I do not understand why you are suddenly so worried. I can assure you that nothing, nothing bad will happen to me. I must go and what I was told to do is nothing that is life-threatening. I would know, Yvonne. I've been there, almost got killed, many, many times before. If you trust in the Fuhrer, then you must trust in the task he put between my hands. It shall be quick. I shall be back to the office before noon. I would not be lying to you if I knew that I was not coming back from it. But before, I must go see this Nurse - Frau Devereaux. Maybe it could help me recall something, or maybe she can tell me what exactly happened."</span>He murmured, hoping to be right. His vocal sound waves were just high enough to reach the woman's ears.<span style="font-style: italic">"This is what I signed up for, pledged my life for, and the only last thing I shall get out of it is death. That is, my only great emotion. I do not fear it."</span>His head was swimming yet he smiled softly, gazing at her lips; fingertips brushing against the softness of her wrist.<br/><br/>Yvonne stared for a long time.  She could<span style="font-style: italic">feel</span>God's presence, she could<span style="font-style: italic">feel</span>His plans.  She knew it in the pit of her soul, what others might call a "gut-feeling", and she<span style="font-style: italic">knew</span>beyond thought what made her see reality more clearly... what<span style="font-style: italic">he</span>would not.  So determined to do His work, she acted out of reason, saving one who might not be savable - if not for God.<br/><br/>His hand slid down her arm, barely a sensation through the thick coat, but a strong sensation she was all too aware of and couldn't ignore as hard as she might.  She kept her eyes on his, mouth parting with realization and... rejection.  It wasn't like she'd been refused by others, orders or salvation, and she had never taken it personally before, but this was different, and she didn't know why.  Which meant she had to make it the same again.  His thumb pushed past her bracelet and drew a circle over the tender veins, ones which would lead straight to her heart.<br/><br/>Her foot moved first, taking the first step back.  Her torso followed, angling inside.  Her wrist remained.<br/><br/>"Ignore the words you don't believe in and you still refuse to see the logic.  There is no helping those who will not help themselves, and those who do not ask do not receive forgiveness.  If you think death is the only thing awaiting you, you are wrong.  And you know it."  She said, so softly it couldn't even be called a whisper. She was reminded of someone else, someone more involved in their preachings and charges, who cared more deeply and more wholly than any other Yvonne had ever known, until her death.  Her mother.<br/><br/>She pulled the final inches away, their bodies separate again.  "I will escort you to breakfast, but on my duty as a soldier - a soldier of<span style="font-style: italic">God</span>first and foremost - that you may change your mind.<span style="font-style: italic">It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority.</span>I do not fear for your death, I fear for your life."<br/><br/>With that, hardness returned to her face, though not her eyes, and Officer Wojcik turned as abruptly now as she had before, marching down the hall toward the mess halls.  She could not quell the rage or make sense of the hurt, but she would do as she always did: her duty.  Ideas and options and possibilities ran through her mind at an alarming rate, but she pushed them aside until they could be of use, if they were wanted.  They were not.  She was not.