Letters

== Revised text ==
Date/Timing: 3 January 2006
Setting: near and in Sabine's flat; Berlin, Germany
.
Dee says—
Hermann startles, bangs his head on the bus window.
—winces, „Sorry.“
Hermann rubs his temple.
„Thanks for helping me with this.“
„You're lucky Father let me leave the house.“
„He doesn't want to hold you prisoner.“
„Could've fooled me.“ Hermann turns his attention back to the street rolling by.
Dee sighs.
Hermann stares, unseeing.
Dee allows them to make the rest of the trip in silence.
They climb down at Sabine's stop and Hermann shivers despite the bright sunshine and wearing a heavy coat, two jumpers, a shirt, an undershirt, and his binding.
His wings try to fluff themselves to trap more warmth, so Hermann rolls his shoulders, covers a pause to steady himself with, „Why, exactly, does Sabine need my help?“
Dee shrugs. „She just said it would take both of us.“
Hermann grunts, hobbles for Sabine's.
Dee catches up in two steps, then matches pace. When they reach the building, he rings the bell and opens the door for Hermann when the lock buzzes.
To the lift, up to her floor.
The door's ajar.
Dee pushes it open, pokes his top half inside. „Sabine?“
„„In the kitchen~!““
„After you.“
Hermann grumps off.
„Tahdah~!“ cheers Sabine, flourishing toward the table.
„It's a box. Hurrah.“
„It's not just /any box,“ pouts Sabine.
„Look inside.“ Dee steers him to a chair, gently pushes him down.
Hermann sighs, lifts the lid, peers inside. Looks up—
Sabine and Dee grin like asylum escapees.
—raises an eyebrow. „Pixie stationery?“
„Bunny picked it out.“
„Of course he did.“ Hermann closes—
„Look underneath!“
Hermann rolls his eyes, gathers the paper, sets it—squeaks.
Square, familiar, /glorious handwriting, but ....
„'Hermione'?“
„That was my idea,“ says Dee, preening. „It's your cover identity.“
Hermann blinks.
Dee and Sabine beam.
Hermann shakes his head clearer, heart fluttering, carefully picks up the envelope, tears into it, slides out several sheets of paper with shaky fingers.
Paper decorated with cupcakes.
Dee snorts a laugh.
„„C'mon, love, let's give him some privacy. And I really /do need your help.““
Cupcake pages /covered with Edan's words.
„„To do what?““
„„Move furniture.““
A groan and footsteps fade as Hermann smooths the letter against the tablecloth.
- Hermann!
Are you alright? What happened?
/Det Your brother says there was an accident and you were hurt.
/Please tell me you're alright.
It's breaking my heart to think you're stuck in that house you hate without me and Rhys and Iggy to cheer you up and spoil you properly while you get better. -
Hermann wipes his eyes on his sleeve.
- And this letter thing? I wish there was something better, but I guess we're stuck with it. I don't want to cause you any trouble and—I /really want to see you again but I also really don't fancy going to jail, which's where your brother hinted I might wind up if your dad caught me. One night in a cell was enough, so I'll be on my best behaviour.
I keep replaying that last day together in my head. I can't think of many times I've been happier. If I think hard enough, I can still feel your hand in mine and your breath against my ear. And, well, your lips
That sounds stalker-y doesn't it?
Shit.
I'm not stalking, I'm just love-struck.
Wait.
A stalker would say that.
...
Let's try small talk, yea?
So ... there are still stars in the sky and I'm hoping to get up the mountain next week to make sure the view's still brilliant.
Dear God the Christmas tree is /huge. I'm still not sure how they got it through the door or what the Hell forest God they stole it from. I'm also kind of afraid it actually /is a forest God and it'll eat us in our sleep if it can fit itself up the steps.
Fen-fen has /another new boyfriend, but this one's not on conditions so he's a bit of a step up from the last. 
Trinity got promoted to assistant manager and her ego barely fits in her car anymore.
Dad's scheduled to head out most of the way to Norway after Christmas so he's sticking to us like glue trying to get in as much togetherness as he can. 
Mum's ranting almost nonstop about overprotective parents as usual. -
Hermann takes a moment to breathe and blink away a fresh round of tears.
- The neighbourhood assbaskets still harass me for being a ginger nerd, but I'm happy to report I can still outrun them, even on snow! -
Hermann chuckles.
- Grandma gave me pink socks again! I could outfit a regiment of princesses (with big feet!) from my sock drawer now. Dad's been trying to convince me for years it's her way of saying she's cool with me being gay. I think she just wishes I was another girl since I'm the last grandkid she's going to get.
I could really go for some rainbow striped ones if she wants to send a message of solidarity. I'd settle for argyle and a hug.
Kind of like how I'm settling for this letter in place of rushing right over—it's only 2 hours by plane!—and feeding you curries and rich soups and ice cream until you feel better.
Maybe a couple of nights locked up wouldn't be /too bad because this missing you /hurts. Right now, I'd risk it for a few minutes of stargazing and holding your hand.
But I don't want to cause you problems with your dad, so I'll be good and stay off the Continent and write more of these silly things and count days until your 18th.
537 days to go.
We can do this.
Love,
Edan
Glasgow
20 Dec. '05 -
Hermann takes a shuddery breath, sags back in his seat, ignoring the pressure it puts on his wings, lets his head fall back and his eyes shut.
/BANG
Hermann jumps.
„„/Shit! That was my /foot!““
Hermann sighs, sits straighter, pulls over the pixie-coated paper and the ... matching pen.
- 3 Jan 2006
Berlin, Germany
Dear Edan,
I realize as I start this I've never written a proper letter—to anyone—before, so please forgive any awkwardness.
I'm alright. Tired, but alright. My injuries have mostly healed already.
Please don't worry about me.
I've spent most of the last fortnight in bed and today's the first day I've felt well enough to leave the house. (I'm writing this at Sabine's kitchen table on paper Bastien picked out. I'm fairly certain the fairies aren't some sort of coded message.)
I'd rather be in Manchester.
/Never seeing you again Not seeing you or hearing your voice for another year and a half at least ... I don't know how I'm going to deal with that. I guess communicating like this is better than nothing, but it feels so /distant and uncertain. /Anything could happen to you and I wouldn't know about it for days or weeks. 
My father would certainly be unhappy in a demonstrative way were he to find we are communicating, so please remain on your side of the Channel, for both our sakes. -
Hermann takes a deep breath.
- I wish it could be different. -
A wing twitches and he silently curses the damn things, shuffles them as best he can under the binder.
- Christmas here was a subdued affair, for obvious reasons.
Dee did his best to keep the peace, but Karla and Father glared at each other the entire time. 
She's already returned to Montreal.
Bastien's appointed himself my protector and rarely lets me out of his sight. -
Hermann snorts a little laugh.
- If he could cocoon me in bubble wrap, he would, I think.
Father forbade my grandparents from visiting, but they've vowed to come down at the next opportunity and sent me the warmest, softest jumpers I've ever touched and several pairs of thick socks. Bastien assures me they're tasteful, subtle colours.
Normally, I'd be disappointed with clothing instead of books, but it's so /cold here. -
Hermann lifts his pen, taps it against his chin.
- Perhaps you can send suggestions for music to add to my collection so, in some sideways way, I can hear your voice.
That sounds creepy, doesn't it?
I'm sorry, I don't mean to be clingy or needy or ... whatever, but I've been /worrying thinking about you since the moment you were out of my sight. There isn't much to do when you're too tired to get out of bed after you've counted every mark and shadow on the ceiling /beside obsess.
That's even cree— -
Hermann smiles, wryly.
- You're right.
This letter thing is /hard.
I'm confident we can make it work, though, and Bastien will be insanely happy to pick out more paper for me to use.
Pass my greetings and best wishes on to Rhys, Vigsai, and your family.
522 more days to wait.
With all my love,
Hermann -
He re-reads what he'd written, heart aching, sets it aside. Picks up a pixie envelope, copies Edan's address from his note, gives Sabine's flat as the return. Carefully tri-folds his letter, tucks it inside, pushes it to the center of the table for Sabine.
Another deep breath and he takes Edan's letter, eases it back into its envelope, lays it at the bottom of the box, buries it under the rest of the paper, and closes the box.
Hermann folds his arms on the tabletop, pillows his head on them, breathes.
.
== Original text ==
Date/Timing: 10 January 2006
Setting: on and near TU Berlin campus; Berlin, Germany
replacing "Transferred"; other elements from it are coming later
.
Hermann sulks in the front seat on the way to Technische Universität Berlin to start the spring term, bag of books and notebooks and pens tucked in the footwell. 
„Meet me here at seventeen-hundred,“ Father commands as he pulls the car to the kerb, „and don't forget your lunch with Dee at noon.“
„Yes, Father,“ mumbles Hermann as he levers himself out and grabs his rucksack.
Father grunts; Hermann shuts the door; Father drives away.
Hermann shivers despite the bright sunshine and wearing a heavy coat, two jumpers, a shirt, an undershirt, and his binding.
His wings try to fluff themselves to trap more warmth, so Hermann rolls his shoulders, resettles his bag, and starts his limp toward his first lecture of what promises to be a very long day.
He finds the auditorium easily enough and claims a seat on the aisle in the back row near an exit. A moment to tuck away his cane, a few more seconds to fish his supplies from his bag and arrange them on the writing surface, and he still has ten minutes to kill before the lecture begins.
Hermann sighs.
The other students—all older than himself, of course—eventually file in.
Hermann picks up a pencil, doodles a Penrose triangle in the margin of his notebook, idly watches the others chatter among themselves.
He's mid-way through an impossible cube when the lecturer arrives.
Doctor Becker is young and enthusiastic and definitely knows his material, but, unfortunately, it's material Hermann mastered the previous semester at Manchester.
Hermann flicks his eyes around the room.
No one's watching him.
With a small smile, he pulls out the notepad Bastien gave him at Christmas and a pen and begins a letter.
- 3 Jan 2006
Berlin, Germany
Dear Edan,
I realize as I start this I've never written a proper letter—to anyone—before, so please forgive any awkwardness.
I'm finally feeling better, though I'm still largely exhausted by any activity. I spent more time in my bed than on my feet this holiday, but I'm hoping the ratio corrects itself soon.
I'm attending my first lecture at this new university and it's nearly a reprise of Doctor Jones' class. I'll have to talk to the registrar about that.
My father, of course, chose my classes for me and I suspect he's underestimated my abilities. Again. At least he enrolled me in conversational Japanese, which will likely be both fascinating and useful.
I'd rather be in Manchester. 
/Never seeing you again Not seeing you or hearing your voice for another year and a half at least ... I don't know how I'm going to deal with that. I guess communicating like this is better than nothing, but it feels so /distant and uncertain. Anything could happen to you and I wouldn't know about it for days or weeks. -
Hermann lifts his pen, taps it against his chin.
- Perhaps you can send recommendations for music to add to my collection so, in some sideways way, I can hear your voice.
That sounds creepy, doesn't it?
I'm sorry, I don't mean to be clingy or needy or ... whatever, but I've been /worrying thinking about you since the moment you were out of my sight. There isn't much to do when you're too tired to get out of bed for a week after you've counted every mark and shadow on the ceiling /beside obsess.
That's even cree— -
Motion all over his peripheral.
The other students are packing up and Doctor Becker is erasing the board.
With a sigh, Hermann gathers his things and trails the flow of traffic from the auditorium.
He has an hour before he's to meet Dee for lunch so he shuffles to the nearest library, finds a table near a window, lays out his gear and races through the day's exercises. He trades his pencil for a pen and his workbook for his notepad and picks up his letter where he left off.
Time and words and pages fly by.
He stops to shake out his hand, checks his watch—eeps and rushes to finish.
- I'm running short on time before I have to post this note, so I must say goodbye for now.
Pass my greetings and best wishes on to Rhys, Iggy, and your family.
With love,
Hermann
Ps. My little brother Bastien picked out the paper and /insists I use it, so I hope you aren't offended by fairies. -
He folds the pages, tucks them in a folder, gathers his things, and sets out for the café.
He finds no sign of Dee, but Sabine sits at a table along the wall, nose in a textbook and cup of tea at her elbow. „Good afternoon,“ he greets.
„Hermann! Sit, sit!“
He eases himself down, settles his rucksack between his knees.
„Dee sends his apologies, but something came up at the hospital and he asked me to meet you instead. He suggests saying 'It was pleasant' if your father asks how lunch was.“
He fiddles with the menu.
„How was your first lecture?“
Hermann shrugs.
Sabine hides a smile in pouring Hermann tea. „Must be a relief to get out of the house at least.“
Hermann smiles a laugh.
She tops up her own cup, sets down the teapot. „I have something for you.“
Hermann's heart flutters.
Sabine passes over an envelope: a pale tint, Edan's square letters spelling out his—
„'Hermione'?“
„I believe that's my beloved's idea of subterfuge.“
Hermann snorts, tears into it, slides out a sheet of paper with shaky fingers.
„Are those cupcakes?“
Hermann shrugs. „The paper Bastien's making me use has pixies on it.“
„Two of a kind,“ Sabine giggles.
- 21 Dec. '05
Hermann!
Are you alright? What happened?
/Det Your brother says there was an accident and you were hurt. Badly hurt.
/Please tell me you're alright.
It's breaking my heart to think you're stuck in that house you hate without me or Rhys or Iggy to cheer you up and spoil you properly while you get better.
And this letter thing? I /wish there was something better, but I guess we're stuck with it. I don't want to cause you any trouble and—I /really want to see you again but I also /really don't fancy going to jail. Your brother didn't /quite say it, but I got the feeling your dad would have me done for harassment or stalking if I tried to be more modern or snuck over to visit. My dad, veteran of several nights in lock-up, tells me the view from there /sucks, so I think I'll be on my good behaviour. -
Hermann chuckles.
- I keep replaying that last day in Manchester in my head. I can't think of many times I've been happier. If I think hard enough, I can still feel your hand in mine and your breath against my ear. And, well, your lips
That sounds stalker-y doesn't it?
Shit.
I'm not stalking, I'm just love-struck.
Wait. That sounds even /worse.
Damn this letter thing is /tough.
...
Let's try small talk, yea?
There are still stars in the sky and I'm hoping to get up the mountain next week to make sure the view is still brilliant. Fen-fen has /another new boyfriend. Dad's off to the Shetlands after Christmas. Mum's ranting almost nonstop about hyperprotective parents getting in her way. The neighbourhood assbaskets still mock me for being a ginger nerd.
In other news, I'm happy to report I can still outrun them, even on snow!
Grandma Reid gave me pink socks. /Again! I could outfit a regiment of princesses (with big feet!) from my sock drawer now. Dad's been trying to convince me for years it's her way of saying she's cool with me being gay. I think she just wishes I was another girl. I could /really go for some rainbow striped ones if she wants to send a message of solidarity. I'd settle for argyle and a hug.
Kinda like I'm settling for this letter in place of rushing right over and feeding you curries and rich soups and ice cream until you feel better.
Maybe a couple of nights locked up wouldn't be so bad because this missing you /hurts. Right now, I'd risk it for a few minutes of stargazing and holding your hand.
But I don't want to cause you problems with your dad, so I'll be good and stay off the Continent and write more of these silly things and count days until your 18th.
536 to go.
We can do this.
With everything I have,
Edan -
Hermann takes a shuddery breath, eases Edan's letter back into its envelope, slides it over to Sabine.
She picks it up, holds it gently. „Do you have anything for me?“
Hermann nods, retrieves his letter from his bag, and offers it.
Sabine accepts, tucks it and Edan's into her purse. „Where am I sending it?“
„Manchester, please,“ he whispers.
She hums, turns kind eyes on him. „Are you hungry?“
Hermann wipes his eyes on his shoulder. „A little.“
„A bowl of soup, maybe?“
„That would be lovely.“
„I'll be right back.“ Sabine pushes off, heads to the counter.
Hermann sighs, stares at her purse—and the letters inside—with an aching heart.
Category:Ficlet
Category:Hermann
Category:Berlin (setting)
Category:Hermann's POV
Category:Hermann (ficlet)
Category:Conversations via snail mail
Category:Ficlets with images
Category:Hermann has wings
Category:Dietrich
Category:Dietrich (ficlet)
Category:Lars (mention)
Category:Sabine
Category:Sabine (ficlet)
Category:Bastien (mention)
Category:Edan
Category:Edan (ficlet)
Category:Rhys (mention)
Category:Vigsai (mention)
Category:Fenella (mention)
Category:Trinity (mention)
Category:Torquil (mention)
Category:Dona (mention)
Category:Karla (mention)
Category:Klaus (mention)
Category:Adina (mention)