Work Text:
Tossing and turning; moaning and groaning from the nightmares that just won't allow one to close their eyes for a minute or more will definitely keep them up at nightfall. The wind hadn't stopped howling since yesterday evening, and the rain was pelting against the weak window of the dark room; the walls so small, so closed in, so restricting that the sound bounced off of them as easily as a knife cutting through warm butter, or a lie cutting through the heart.
Eyes opened, eyes closed. Arm over chest, arm on each side of Jacob, the hard canvas underneath him so worn and flattened that they didn't even sink in for a comforting feel. He thought, or at least wished, he'd be used to it now, considering the fact that the blue and white striped uniform of his has been best friends with his body for weeks. It's the most reliable friend he's ever had, because, even when his eyes are closed, or he's dazed off for far too long, he knows that when he searches for it, it'll be there, on his body, hugging him tightly. But with the uniform comes a brand of his difference. He no longer possessed rights of that a human should have, but property - something to be used purely for other purposes; to show, to pledge, to be an example of something so insane, so sinister one would not believe if he told them.
He remembered that day as if it were just a second ago as nothing but a mere speck of the thing we've created and called "time". He'd just woken from a dream, the same one he'd been having for days. Not a dream. It didn't deserve that title at all. Nightmare would simply be an understatement. It was terrifying, horrendous, a vision so real it could've be reality itself. But it wasn't. He knew because right after he had it, his eyes flashed open, bright and wide; his body, beaded with sweat, was off the bed, upward, and his mouth hanging agape, sucking in breaths so quick one would think he was having an asthma attack.
The dream... It was him, his parents, his younger sister and brother, all of them were somewhere dark and damp; the smell of a cheap cleaner and something silver... blood, maybe, was in the frisky air of the star-studded night. He could see the little diamonds in the sky, twinkling above through the slits of the cart that rocked every now and then. The motion kept him awake, but the others cramped inside with him were sound asleep. That's where he wanted to be, away from the world, away from the terrible situation that was eating his brain alive. Wherever he was, he did not know. He wished he did.
When he peered down, in his lap, there his sister slept with not an ounce of worry on her face that'd marked it earlier in the day, after they were both pulled from school by their parents, which they never did. Her eyelids twitched subtly, almost as if she was preparing to open them, but she didn't. Her finger, though, clamped around Jacob's own, and he knew exactly what she was having herself. A nightmare. The touch... it felt so real. He whispered that it'd be alright, that they'd be safe in a few, but even he couldn't believe his own words. Strength was what he needed. But how could one be strong, let alone aware of their surroundings, if they didn't even know where they were going?
When the SS men came earlier they kept their thin lips pursed together, their rifles close to their chests, and sausage fingers near the trigger as they led the Schmidt family out of their household and into one of the loading cars where another family was already taking up most of the space. But they managed. Packed in like sardines. A daughter, Jacob guessed, son, too, and mother as well, but no father. Not one man in sight except for the one in the front seat.
Glancing over, on the floor, wrapped in his father's arms, was his younger brother, Kohl, asleep, eyes, too, twitching as if they were about to release the tears he was doing so well to hold inside.
A few more hours passed, and Jacob had dozed off. But it wasn't for long before the darkness that he saw when he closed his eyes, began to be filled with a light through his near iridescent lids, thanks to his overly pale skin. Through the small cracks of the cart he could see that the rain had seized to a minimal fall, and light, not the sun, but fluorescent ones he'd remember seeing at the stadium where his school played. All kinds of emotions like hope, fear, even happiness, surged through him in the form of a warmness so unexpected he shivered.
Posie, his sister, lifted herself, and her eyes flickered open but quickly closed again when the bright light from outside the cart made contact with her honey hues. Jacob pulled the little girl into his arms, the wooly gloves of his rubbing gently against her skin to warm her, his exposed fingertips assessing the coolness of her body. He could see her breaths coming out as puffs of white smoke. Only then was he reminded just how knee deep in the winter they were. "I'm sorry, Posie. Did I wake you?" His voice was quiet and soft, low enough to not wake the others, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see the sea of people covering the hard floor of the train stir. Even moan, if he listened hard enough.
Posie rubbed at her eyes, and her head fell into her brother's chest as tiredness took over her small form once more. "You didn't." She let out a large breath, and deepened her head into her brother. "Are we home, yet?"
Jacob wanted to tell her that they were safe and sound, that he'd be able to read her a bedtime story, or make her favorite food - lamb stew, but he couldn't.
With a shrug he answered, "I don't know." He let out a sigh. "Maybe..."
Posie made a small move in his arms. "I hope so..."
Jacob would never forget the terrible look of hope on her face.
After a while of cruising, the train came to an abrupt and screeching halt. The passengers - prisoners - in the cart woke suddenly, screams of horror releasing from their cold and chapped lips. Some didn't even rise. Jacob knew they were dead.
"What's going on?" Jacob heard his mother ask as Kohl leaped into her arms. She was so unprepared for the action that she fell back, and needed help from her husband to raise her up again.
"I don't know," Jacob's father answered. "We might be somewhere safe..."
Jacob knew it was all wishful thinking. He'd heard stories about this, whispered through the ears of young children, that they were rounding them up - the Jews. The Nazi's were using all kinds of tactics to get anyone to turn them in. Rewards, the lies and tales that they'd be doing their nation a favor. Jacob had seen the number of students in his class dwindle to ten or less. Ludwig, not a friend necessarily but someone he knew quite well, was gone after the first week of the radio messages. Did he get away? Was he carted like him? Was he killed? He'd never know...
The screeching from the rusting wheels of the train finally drowned out, taken over by another noise just as loud, and just as jarring. Gunfire. It was gunfire Jacob could hear. Apparently his mother could hear it, too, because she hugged Kohl that much tighter. Their father leaped from the ground and hugged them all.
Chattering grew outside the door, and became louder. Whoever it was was getting closer.
Jacob's blood stilled and his muscles went rigid. He was frozen in place.
The cart's door was yanked open and the light from the outside blinded them all. Jacob's gloved hand flew up from his lap and in front of his dark eyes, and he found himself struggling to see who it was. As of now, the person just appeared as a dark figure, the light surrounding him made him look almost ethereal in the sense that he was possibly beyond human - an angel. But there was a gun hanging across his chest. No angel needed that. He was no angel at all. He was something completely polar of it. A monster. A beast. And this was where you found them.
"Where are we?" Jacob heard someone ask to the right of him, the persons voice raspy and hard.
There's silence, at first, the gunfire that he'd heard a few minutes ago now seized to nothing.
"Home," the dark figure said back. Although it was dark, the wide smile on his face could be seen a mile away.
From there on, the dream seemed to quicken.
Jacob and his family were all taken from the cart, led behind many others, cramped in a narrow line, to a place that reminded him of a playground, but it was empty, and dead. The slush on the ground was stained with a red liquid - surely blood, and there was even more of it beneath the heavy sheet of snow that was accumulating on the tips of his boots. He'd trudged forward and kick, but there'd be more on them in seconds.
Posie was gripping his finger so tight Jacob was sure he wasn't getting blood there. He looked down at her when he figured there'd be no interruptions up ahead. The fear in her eyes was apparent, but the other thing was something Jacob wasn't all too prepared for. Hope was there as well.
"Are we really home?" the little girl asked, a small smile playing on her lips, her cheeks a dangerous red.
Jacob's mouth opened to form words, but a gunshot rang out into the silent air, and pierced any thought - any wish of hope.
A feeling of dread filled Jacob and the crowd broke off into groups of their own. There were ones too scared to move and others too scared to just stand there. Jacob was familiar with the fight-or-flight response, he'd heard it in school when the teachers would talk about the students and policies on fighting, and how it'd just be best to fly. So he flew.
Posie was in his arms, bullets whizzing over their heads, past their ears. They couldn't escape it. Not the chaos, or the barbed wire fences that they'd come into contact with. Jacob's fingers were hurting so he was almost tempted to stop. But he couldn't. They'd come so far. They'd ran. As soon as they ran he became her guardian. Her keeper. He would keep her alive no matter what. He couldn't go back. He was too far gone.
They raced over to another side of the playground, and there was a fence there, too. The place was like a birdcage. Inescapable.
Posie was in his ear, asking all kinds of questions, but he could barely hear them over the constant gunfire.
He was out of breath, and out of options. They had nowhere to go.
An acute pain suddenly filled him; the origin somewhere on his back, and he dropped to the ground, knees deep in the snow. He could hear Posie scream, but it sounded almost like she was far away, or at least drifting away...
Jacob had been shot. He could feel the bullet still moving; securing, solidifying its place in him.
The memory of the dream came to an end when the sound of small and soft footsteps became audible outside of Jacob's room that he was sharing with another inmate that was asleep. His snoring confirmed it.
Peaking her head into the dark room, Jacob saw those honey hues of hers, and instantly recognized them, very much belonging to his sister.
"Posie?" he asked, sitting upright, wiping at his eyes. He scratched away the crust left in them. "Is that you?"
"I'm scared," said the girl, creeping into the room just a little bit more.
Jacob had no problem extending his bed to her. He was the only family of hers left. And if they were going to punish him for it, then so be it. "Come on..."
They snuggled together close, her dark hair brushing against his lips, and he placed a kiss at the back of her head. The rain at the window nearby continued to fall, steady in their ears like a beautiful sound of music.
Jacob didn't fall asleep, not at once, like Posie. But eventually, when it was safe for him to close his eyes, he did exactly that.