Work Text:
1944
The Second World War is still in full swing. The Germans are loosing ground, but that only makes them more vicious and dangerous. More intimidating and dominating in those regions they do still control.
In one of those regions, during the middle of the night, people are running around to work until they collapse. By the light of a few candles, always guarded by someone so they can be snuffed out at any moment, a printer spews out pages of a new issue of the resistance newspaper. The activities here are highly illegal and if the wrong person finds out, the people inside the building will all certainly die. Probably after rigorous torture. Their families would not be safe and likely await the same fate. It is top priority to keep this secret a secret.
The printed papers are transferred to a table, where one woman checks them all over to make sure they are readable. She has dark curls, a pair of equally dark glasses but skin so pale she nearly glows in the limited light. Her long skirt flows around legs clad in stockings. In one hand she holds one of the candles, as she lowers her head to the pages to check them. Every page that passes her check gets put on another stack where they are folded and wrapped for delivery. Very deliberate and secret delivery. The pages that don’t pass, immediately get burned to erase any trace of their existence. Any other newspaper would skip this step, but not this paper. The woman, Lena, insists on it. And it’s her brothers printing presses they use, so she has the last vote.
To Lena, everything feels extra rebellious and dangerous. Because not only are they risking getting caught any moment. She is also doing everything against her family’s wishes. Without her family’s knowledge. She risks getting caught even by the people closest to her. If her brother were to walk in right now, she would be certain he would shoot her on sight before even calling the police on the rest of them. Anyone here could catch a lucky break and escape, but for Lena that would be out of the question. She would never be safe. Nowhere. She knows this and she knows she would be the first to die and she wouldn’t want to chance a single thing about it.
Behind Lena, the bustling continues. Everyone is in a hurry.
Then, the door opens. Not a single person moves. Backs and shoulders tense. Prayers are shot up. Eyes skittishly move to the doorway.
A collective sigh travels through the room when one by one people realise it’s a friend, not a foe.
The doorway is occupied by an apologetic looking woman. Her blonde wavy hair partly put up. Her long coat covering most of her body, leaving just the lower rim of her skirt to peek out.
Lena quickly waves her over. Kara always has the most recent news on how things are outside. Away. Where the battles are and the fate of the war is determined with gunfire and bombs. Away where the camps are and the casualties of the war are determined with gas and brutality. But also away where life is relatively normal and has not stopped for the past 4 years.
“They are losing terrain,” Kara whispers. Her voice hopeful and melodical but carrying a layer of fear. Kara’s family–like Lena’s–has been on the side of the Germans and the end of the world will bring repercussions. Repercussions Kara and Lena might have to face too. Because no one knows about their work down here. Their work out there. The false documents they provide to people who need to get away. The children they have escorted to Switzerland or other safe places. To the world, they are as evil as their families.
The war is bad. The war is worse than anything that can happen to them. So they will fight and they will give their lives to the cause without hesitation. But that doesn’t mean the end of the war is not scary.
Lena’s heart skips a beat. The end of the war is looking closer than ever. Her fingers gently brush Kara’s, safely hidden by the dark where no one can see. Only Kara knows because she can feel.
“Good,” Lena confirms before she quickly goes back to her work, expecting Kara to pick up her own tasks.
Kara doesn’t move. A sad smile graces her lips for a second. The candlelight barely enough for Lena to catch it. But she knows Kara too well not to.
“What’s wrong?” Lena asks, turning away from the papers to look at Kara.
“I think he suspects something.” Kara doesn’t have to explain who ‘he’ is, Lena immediately knows.
“Are you in danger?” Lena asks without hesitation, her hand moving to Kara’s again. Kara pulls away before Lena can hold onto her fingers. The rejection shows immediate and deeply on Lena’s face.
“He doesn’t know. But he has a hunch.” Kara tucks her arms behind her back, out of Lena’s reach.
Lena nods solemnly. This is what they’ve always feared most. “Do you need anything? Papers, transport, money?”
Kara shakes her head. “It’s not that. He doesn’t know about this–” Kara gestures at the room around them, the printing press that is still rolling, the papers being stacked and tied together in neat bundles– “it’s us.”
Lena’s heart sinks in her shoes. The one thing that the end of the war is not going to change. “We can disappear together,” Lena whispers, her voice even lower than before in fear of anyone around them hearing. This is even too secret for their allies.
Kara shakes her head again. “We can’t give up on this. On helping people. Maybe once this all is over but not right now.”
“We don’t know how long that will be, Kara. It could be years, decades.” Lena puts all her effort into keeping her voice low but it takes a lot. She is angry. Hurt.
“I know. But we’re doing good work. We can’t stop now. They’re losing terrain, before we know it, the war is over,” Kara encourages.
“I’ve heard that before, Kara. It is getting less and less convincing. They’re still rounding up people left and right.” Lena jerks her hand with the candle away to emphasise her words and nearly drops wax on the freshly printed papers. The drop, however, seems to be graceful toward Lena and lands on the table next to the page.
“We can’t give up hope now. It’s just for a while. We can run away together after.” This time Kara is the one to hold onto Lena’s hands as she whispers her words with affection.
Lena lets her head fall. Tears prick in her eyes but she blinks them away angrily, refusing to let them fall. She clenches her jaw, determined.
“Promise?”
“I promise.” Kara’s voice is so soft, only Lena can hear she is even saying anything. “I would never want a life after the war without you.”
“You wouldn’t?” Lena asks insecurely.
“Never,” Kara answers. She brushes her thumb over Lena’s knuckles as she waits for a response.
Lena takes her time. Eventually, she nods. She does not have much of a choice anyway, but it feels like her choice now.
“After the war.”
“After the war,” Kara repeats with one last squeeze in Lena’s hands before she pulls away and moves to the bundles of bound papers. She picks up as many stacks as she can carry and turns back around.
As she passes Lena, she whispers, “Stay strong.” With that, she is gone.
Lena is left behind feeling empty. Her eyes prick and a tear manages to escape. She wipes it away roughly before commencing her task again. But her mind is elsewhere.
She really hopes Kara is right and the war will be over soon.