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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Come Back To Us - 43. Chapter 43

It took him time to come to his senses, but when he woke up, he noticed he wasn’t alone. Clément was by his side, looking so concerned and sorry.

Everything came back suddenly. The way they had treated him as if he were one of them. His jaw was clenched and his gaze hard and dark.

“Je suis désolé…Je voulais pas que ça se passe comme ça… Fais-moi voir tes blessures.”
I'm sorry. I didn't want things to happen that way... Let me see your wounds.

Clément flinched as he jerked his hand away. He didn’t want him to touch him or take care of him or whatever. He just wanted to be alone. But he said nothing. He just stared at him with a look he hoped that would make him understand he wasn’t welcome there. He looked hurt but he couldn’t care less. Who had been tortured and who had done nothing except useless shouting?

“D’accord…Je comprends…Tu es en colère et c’est normal. Mais sois certain que je ferai en sorte que ça ne se reproduise pas. Si tu as besoin de moi, appelle-moi, je ne serai pas loin. Tiens, c’est du lait chaud. C’est le seul peu de réconfort que je peux t’offrir.”
Okay...I understand. You're angry and that's normal. But be assured that I'll make sure this won't happen again. Call me if you need me, I won't be far. Here, that's hot milk. That's the only bit of comfort I can offer you.

He pushed a cup towards him with what he recognised as bubbling milk inside. Then he gave up his crouched down position and left the room. Karl stared at the cup for a while before he put both hands on it. It was warm and it felt good. It reminded him of home, of cold winters when he, his brother and sister had been wrapped in warm blankets, and to warm themselves up they would drink hot milk. But it wasn’t wintertime and he wasn’t home. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t a child anymore. This was war. Reality was ugly, terrifying, and now it seemed that what he'd known until he had had to leave had just been a mere illusion. A mere illusion based on lies and ignorance. And just thinking about that made it ugly. He waited for the milk to get cold to drink it but as his lips welcomed the creamy liquid inside of him, it tasted sour and unfamiliar. But he was sure it wasn’t the milk itself. He put it down without trying to drink some more of it. Clément wouldn’t have given him expired milk anyway.

He was feeling empty and his bones ached. He was tired of feeling the same over and over again, tired of fighting a war he knew he could never win on his own and who had made so many victims already, so tired of thinking about the same things. He just wanted to forget about everything.In fact, he realised he couldn’t stand loneliness after a long while and his body was still hurting. But he managed to stand up and went to look for Clément. He just hoped he wasn’t above and that all the other men were as far away from here as possible. He limped as he was walking and looked into every possible room he saw on his way, but Clément was nowhere in sight. He sighed as he stopped in his tracks. What had happened wasn’t his fault… Maybe, he was just having a talk with them about that. He kept on walking anyway, curious to see how far he could go in these tunnels.

After a while, he stopped as he stepped into a large room. He couldn’t go any further… But then he realized there was a large door at the end of it, like the ones they had for their barn. But there was probably just another room behind it. He could hear shouting from inside. He approached it until he was close enough to press his ear against it, just as he had done earlier, after what he had got into trouble… But did it really matter anymore? Doing it once or twice?

“On n’était pas obligés d’en arriver là ! Tu vois pas que Louis est devenu complètement parano depuis que les Boches sont là !”
We didn't have to go this far! Can't you see that Louis has become completely paranoid since the Boche have settled here?

It was Clément’s voice.

“En temps de guerre, mieux vaut être parano que trop indulgent. C’est plus sûr. Vivre est devenu dangereux.”
In times of war, better be paranoid rather than too lenient. That's safer. Living has become a dangerous thing.

“Ça veut dire quoi ça? Tu m’fais plus confiance?”
What is that supposed to mean? Don't you trust me anymore?

“Arrête, tu sais très bien que c’est faux.” He paused. “J’aurai toujours une confiance aveugle en toi parce que je sais que tu ne me trahiras jamais.”
Come on, you perfectly know that's not true. I will always have a blind faith in you because I know you'll never betray me.

He couldn’t hear anything anymore afterwards. What could be happening in there?

Out of curiosity, he slid the door, being careful not to make a single sound as he did, just hardly enough so he could take a peep at the inside. His heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. They were…kissing…? Their bodies pressed tight into each other’s embrace… But… His brain came to a halt for a few seconds.

They were two males….

Well, yeah, he definitely wasn’t used to seeing two males holding each other and kissing, and never had he thought…Clément and that supposed leader with the calm but threatening voice were…

But then he remembered Aiden and his story with that boy, Stan. War and his father had separated them. He remembered their tears and the pain he had felt for them. Just because that kind of love wasn’t supposed to be. But at least it didn’t hurt anyone. It didn’t destroy lives, homes and families. There was nothing wrong about it if you forgot about what people said, just two hearts beating for each other. The only thing that was wrong in this world was that war. That feeling that he wasn’t the only one just made him…he couldn't describe it...

Could it be that…There were many males that loved other men?

He couldn’t take his eyes off of them… There was mesmerizing in the way they kissed and held each other. It was soft, slow, heart-warming. He could sense it wasn’t just to fuck for relief. It made him crave for a warmth and softness he couldn’t have, and that he probably would never be able to feel ever again…

After a while they undressed each other and he looked away as they did, his heart growing heavy. He turned around and thought about leaving but instead, he just sat down on the ground, leaning against the wooden door with empty eyes. He remained there, still and silent as they made love, thinking about the times when he had made love with George, that completeness he had felt, that tenderness and the way it had felt to fall asleep into each other’s arms, only realising it too late… The only thing that could be heard was their moans. He squeezed his eyes shut and imagined they were his and George’s moans, his hand caressing his back.

Was it weak to feel love?

He lost track of time as his melancholy got the best of him and next thing he knew the door slid open, making him fall backwards. That was déjà vu.

“Bon sang ! Qu’est-ce qu’il fout ici lui ?”
Goddamit! What the hell is he doing here?

Oh no…

“Manu, calme-toi !” Calm down!

The look he gave Clément was nothing about love any longer…

“Arrête de le défendre maintenant ! Il s’est fait grillé tout seul et ça fait deux fois.”
Stop defending him now! He got caught all by himself and twice.

No…He didn’t want them to get into an argument just because of him…

“Ça prouve rien du tout !”
That's not a proof at all!

His gaze was dark as that of Clément was defenseless, and Karl’s stomach ached at that sight.

“Non, mais tu te fiches de moi là.”
You're kidding me, right?

He sat up and wanted to open his mouth, but…

“Tu veux le mettre dans ton lit ou quoi ?”
Do you wanna sleep with him or what?

Clément was looking utterly shocked now. He shook his head slowly in disbelief.

“Ça va pas de dire des choses pareilles…? C’est c’que tu crois…? Que j’ai fait semblant tout à l’heure et qu’au fond j’voulais juste m’le taper ?”
How can you say such things? That's what you think? That I was just pretending earlier and that I actually wanted to have it off with him?"

No, no, no…This was getting bad. Tension was rising in the air and his breath caught in his throat.

“Dans ce cas, on n’a plus rien à faire ensemble.”
Well then, we should break up.

He just couldn’t stay there and watch while doing nothing. He stood up in a flash.

“No! No! No! Stop!”

Both males turned their attention to him.

“Don’t fight, please…”

It came out as a broken whisper rather than anything else and he didn’t want to imagine how pathetic he must have looked. He took a deep breath before he spoke again.

“I’m not on the Nazis’ side and I don’t want to make people argue and break up. I…I’ll just go.”

But as he was about to leave, a firm hand grabbed his arm.

“Où est-ce que tu crois aller comme ça ?”
Where do you think you're going like this?

“Ça suffit comme ça ! Laisse-le partir, Manu !”
Enough like that! let him go, Manu!

“Et puis quoi encore ! Il t’a complètement ramolli le cerveau. Il nous a vus, donc on ne peut prendre aucun risque.”
The Hell I will! He has made you completely stupid. He saw us, so we can't take any risk.

“Arrête ! Il nous dénoncera pas ! Et tu oses dire que j’ai le cerveau ramolli ? Mais si on tombe, il tombera avec nous ! Sérieux.”
Stop it! He won't denounce us! And you dare say he has made me completely stupid? But if we fall, he will fall with us! Seriously.

He didn’t like the moment of silence that followed. The tension didn’t die down…

“Ça, je le sais pertinemment, mais il peut très bien nous dénoncer aux autres.”
I am perfectly aware of this, but he can still denounce us to the guys.

“En ne parlant pas un mot de français ? Je suis sûr qu’il ne le fera jamais de toute façon.”
While not speaking a word of French fluently? I'm sure he will never do it anyway.

“Comment tu peux ? Ça fait à peine un jour que tu le connais et tu lui fais confiance comme si c’était un ami de longue date. Franchement, ça me dépasse. Tu sais quoi ? Tu peux faire ce que tu veux avec lui, ça m’est égal.”
How can you be sure? You have known him for hardly one day and you already trust him as if he were an old friend. Honestly, I can't understand. You know what? You can do whatever you want with him, I don't care.

With that being said, he let go of his wrist and stormed off the room.

"Manu…Attends !” Wait!

Clément ran after him, and his stomach only ached even more.

Great.

As if he needed that…

 

***

He had returned to his room and just kept lying down with eyes staring at the ceiling for at least two hours. Guilt had been eating him up from inside. He suddenly sat up. He needed to go and see Clément to make things right with him. He stood up and wasted no time.

After searching for a little while, he found him in the same room as he had been before his nightmare had begun… And he was with the same boys again…

They all stared at him with weird looks as he was standing in the doorframe.

“Qu’est-ce qu’il fout là lui ?” It was the greenish-blue eyed bloke who spoke, the one who had tortured him. He wasn’t going to forget so easily. He had a feeling he couldn’t be trusted anyway.
What is he doing here again?

He wondered what they were doing and talking about, because they couldn’t be talking about him all the time whenever they gathered.

“Dégage de là !” Get away from here!

He felt he wasn’t welcomed in the small gathering, but he didn’t care.

“You want to free France from the Nazis’ invasion, right?”

They kept staring at him wordlessly.

“I want the same for Denmark. That’s why I joined the Royal Air Force.”

It was silent again afterwards and they looked somewhat like they were taken aback by his words, even the one who kept barking at him.

“Let me help you. As your ally.”

He didn’t want to feel useless, even if it was risky, he was ready to take that risk just as they were. He had nothing to lose anymore anyway.

“Augustin ! Qu’est-ce qu’il vient de dire, putain ?”
What has he just said, damn it?

There he was, barking again.

He didn’t want to believe he could make any friends. Who would like to be friends with a bloke like him?

“Il veut nous aider. En tant qu’allié. Lui aussi, il veut libérer son pays de la tyrannie nazie, le Danemark en l’occurence. C’est pour cette raison qu’il a rejoint la Royal Air Force.”

“Parce qu’il pense vraiment qu’on va le croire sur parole ? Juste parce qu’il nous le dit avec conviction ?”
Because he really thinks we're gonna take his word for it? Just because he says it with that self-assured look?

“Pourquoi il ne pourrait pas être comme nous ? Pourquoi pour toi c’est forcément un espion qui cherche à nous infiltrer ?”
Why couldn't he be like us? Why according to you he is necessarily a spy who is trying to infiltrate our group?

“Parce que c’est évident ! Il cherche tout simplement à gagner notre confiance pour pouvoir nous endormir !”
Because that's obvious! He is merely trying to gain our trust so we won't suspect him anymore!

“N’importe quoi… T’es complètement parano !”
Bullshit...You're completely paranoid!

“Et toi t’es trop con ! On aurait déjà pu se faire choper dix mille fois rien qu’à cause de toi !”
"And you are too stupid! We could have got caught a thousand times already just because of you!

“C’est bon, fermez-la vous deux. Vous commencez sérieusement à me gonfler.”
Alright, shut up, both of you. You're seriously starting to get on my nerves.

He saw the hurt in Clément’s eyes and this sight broke his heart. They kept quiet afterwards.

“En admettant qu’on te croit, c’est trop dangereux de toute façon. Si tu veux nous aider, contente-toi de rester caché jusqu’à ce qu’on trouve un moyen de te renvoyer en Angleterre. Dis-lui, Augustin.”

“Even if we choose to believe you, it’s too dangerous for you to help us anyway. All you can do is to stay hidden until we can find a way to send you back to England.”

He had a strong French accent as he spoke, but he seemed that he was the only one well-read to be able to speak a foreign language. It felt reassuring in a way to see that he wasn’t the only one massacring the melodious harmony of the English language.

Should he insist on making himself useful? He decided against it. It would definitely not be a good idea…

“As you wish. But can you make your plans known to me at least? That’s the least you can do if you choose to put you at risk. I’d like to know what’s happening since my safety depends on yours. And no, it’s not to steal information from you. And whether you choose to believe me or not, I don’t care.”

It was silent again for a while.

The blue-eyed bloke with brown hair who spoke French looked at their leader.

“Est-ce qu’on lui dit? Maintenant qu’il sait, est-ce que c’est vraiment encore la peine de lui cacher des choses ?” He paused. “Il craint pour sa sécurité. Cela dit, c’est vrai qu’il n’est pas tombé sur la planque idéale.”
Should we tell him? Now that he knows, is it really still worth it to hide stuff from him? He fears for his safety. This being said, it's true that he didn't land in the ideal shelter.

“Ne dis pas ça. S’il était tombé sur la maison d’un autre villageois, il serait déjà dans un camp de concentration à cette heure-ci.” The leader was the one to speak. “Les gens ont trop peur des Boches. Alors ne le plains pas, parce qu’il n’y a vraiment pas de quoi.”
Don't say that. Had he landed in the house of another villager, he would already be in a concentration camp by that time. People are too scared of the Boche. So don't pity him, because there is really no reason to.

“C’est pas ce que je voulais dire…”
That's not what I meant...

There was silence again.

“Peu importe. Tout ce que tu peux lui dire c’est qu’on fait partie de la Résistance et que notre groupe s’appelle “Liberté”. Le reste ne le concerne pas.”
Whatever. All you can tell him is that we're part of the Résistance network and that our group is called "Freedom". The rest is our business only.

And once again more silence afterwards.

“We’re part of the Résistance movement and our group is called “Liberté.”

He listened but his gaze was focused on Clément and the leader. Seeing them ignore each other, it was truly heart-wrenching… They had been so close earlier, so tender with each other, the love could’t have faded away just because of him; it was impossible.

“Li..beee..té”

It started with an ‘l’ like love. He liked the way it sounded.

He felt that they could do great things.

 

***

It was dark by now and Clément couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to have a talk with Manu. So he sent his dog with a letter, pretending something bad and serious had just happened, because he knew he wouldn’t come otherwise. He waited for him in the barn and he was there around fifteen minutes later.

“Qu’est-ce qui se passe ? C’est quoi cette histoire ?”
What's up? What the hell happened?

“On s’en fiche. Il s’est rien passé. Je voulais juste qu’on se parle toi et moi.”
Forget it. Nothing happened. I just wanted us to talk, just you and I.

He looked annoyed, but, hey, he left him no choice. He shook his head slowly in disbelief.

“Qu’est-ce qui s’est passé tout à l’heure ? T’as pété un plomb ou quoi ?”
What happened earlier? You lost it or what?

Manu sighed as he looked away. But he didn’t want him to look away. He didn’t want him to avoid that conversation.

“Manu ?”

There was a long moment of silence, but he waited patiently for an explanation. And if Manu planned to go away, he wouldn’t let him anyway.

“J’imagine que c’est ça la jalousie…” I guess that's what jealousy is...

He couldn’t believe what he had just heard…

“Sérieusement… T’es jaloux de lui ?”
Seriously... You're jealous of him?"

“Comme si t’avais pas remarqué.”
As if you hadn't noticed.

He didn’t know how he should react now, whether he should laugh about it, get angry or ignore such a stupid behaviour. No, that wasn't him.

“Mais enfin, t’as vraiment pas de quoi être jaloux de lui. Il ne m’attire pas. J’ai juste trop d’empathie envers les êtres humains. Peut-on vraiment me blâmer pour ça ?”
Come on, there is definitely no reason for you to be jealous of him. I'm not attracted to him. I just have too much empathy towards human beings. Can I really be blamed for it?

They stared into each other’s eyes and he wouldn’t look anywhere else. Those green eyes were his guardian and those arms were his home.

“J’en sais trop rien.” I have no idea at all.

He took a step forward and cupped Manu’s cheek with his hand. At least, he didn’t push him away.

“Tu n’as pas à être jaloux de qui que ce soit, Manu. Dès le début, c’était toi, maintenant c’est encore toi, et ce sera toujours toi. J’aimerai jamais personne d’autre comme je t’aime,” his voice was filled with softness and love as he spoke.
There's no need for you to be jealous of anyone, Manu. It was you from the start, now it's still you, and it will always be you. I'll never love anyone else as much as I love you.

He pecked him as his hand didn’t leave his cheek. Manu leaned into his touch and their noses nuzzled as they pressed their foreheads together. Butterflies exploded into his stomach as their lips met. His eyes fluttered closed as they melted into each other’s. His thumb caressed his cheek as they kissed slowly as if it were the first time. He felt his arms wrapping around his waist and he wished time could freeze. He was tired of that war. He was tired of waking up alone in his bed with that fear in his belly. He just wished they could run away and go to a place where it would be just the two of them, until the end. They had to part for air, but they kept pressing their foreheads together, and Manu nuzzled his nose with his. He sighed in content. After a while, he wrapped his arms around his neck, and Manu held him tighter. Even when they could have happy moments, there was always that constant threat coming in the way.

“Cette guerre va finir par nous détruire un de ces jours…” Clément said.
This war will end up destroying us one day...

It was silent for a while.

“Non, tant que tu seras à mes côtés, je laisserai personne se mettre entre nous. On en sortira plus forts. Dès que tout ce merdier sera fini, on se tirera loin d’ici, au soleil. Tu verras, on sera bien.”
No, as long as you'll stay by my side, I won't let anyone get in the way. We will get out of it stronger. As soon as this bloody mess is over, we will go far away from here, in the South. You'll see, it will be great.

That’s all he would ask for every night before going to sleep.

Hey everyone! 😊
I just love the end of this chapter so much 🫠🥰😍
Have a good day/evening/night and take care ❤️
Copyright © 2022 LittleCherryBlossom26; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

So Karl was hated by one of the Frenchmen because he thought his boyfriend, Clement,  liked Karl and not him. He was jealous of Karl. Neither Karl nor Clement saw this coming. It comes out only at the end with a further meeting in the barn. Karl was badly hurt because of Manu's hateful feelings.

Clement finally argued and showed Manu he loved him only and that Karl was not a problem

Life underground maybe more pleasant--unless the Germans attack.

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Thankfully Karl spoke up and it least one member of the 'Freedom Resistance' group - Augustin -  understands just enough English to let the rest know Karl is a Danish fighter pilot with the RAF. Maybe now they'll let him be. 

Edited by Anton_Cloche
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On 10/11/2022 at 10:01 PM, Anton_Cloche said:

Thankfully Karl spoke up and it least one member of the 'Freedom Resistance' group - Augustin -  understands just enough English to let the rest know Karl is a Danish fighter pilot with the RAF. Maybe now they'll let him be. 

I really hope so. 

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They seem to have found a way to co-exist. Hopefully Karl will find a way to get back to England, blowing up half the German forces as he goes, of course. 

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