1I admit. I wrote this out of my own weird little fantasies haha. This is a one-shot, and I was somewhat excited to see where I could take this. R&R is appreciated. I am not a scholar nor linguist (errors are bound to be found). Just appreciate history and the German language. Enjoy!
"Scheiße"
He growled, as another mind-numbing contraction tore through him like a hot knife through butter. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was able to hide the pregnancy from everyone within his circle. Even the Führer himself.
As Obersturmbannführer of the Schutzstaffel, Christof Altenhofen had certain duties to uphold, expectations to be met. Becoming pregnant with an American nurse's child, was certainly not one of them. He could feel the cold sweat slowly trickle down, stinging his eyes.
Seeking refuge in an abandoned tunnel, moments earlier. Feeling an instant, harsh chill as the solid wall of concrete made contact with his back. There was no way he could show his face after, surely he would be shot for treason. All he was concerned with was delivering his daughter safely and making absolute certainty she was well looked after.
He removes his belt, it acting as a safeguard so was not to bite a bloody hole right through his tongue, as yet another powerful contraction hit. "Fick mich" he hissed. Feeling as though his body was being siphoned of its energy. His every move and noise vibrating off the damp walls, bouncing back into his ears, forcing him to momentarily slam his eyes shut.
Never before had he felt so vulnerable, desperate for help, but at the same time, knew it would only result in unfavorable consequence. He removes his trousers, followed by the jacket. All that remained was his dress shirt. Cradling his gravid middle, feeling her tiny feet pressing against the palm of his hand. He winced, swiftly brushing back a few damp, blonde strands from his face. Suddenly, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"Beruhige dich, meine liebe"
He knew full and well, this request was absolutely fruitless. Any attempt to lessen the severity of his contractions, however inane. Just to take his mind off things, if only for a moment. It was times like these he would kill for even a thimble worth of morphine. Again, his teeth sinking deep into the black leather of his belt. It was this contraction that finally succeeded in breaking his water.
Suddenly, his ears pick up the sounds of footsteps echoing throughout. The sound growing nearer as the bits of ground crunched beneath their feet. His breath hitched, complete dread for what could possibly be rounding the corner. If it was fellow SS, he was possibly safe.
Eyes watering from the pain. Exhaustion holding him in a vice-grip. Just then, he hears the man call out.
"Jemand hier?"
He breathes a sigh of relief, as the approaching figure turned out to be fellow SS, Reinhardt Dross. The man's eyes go wide in both shock and panic, as the sight of an enervated Altenhofen in labor became more clear in his field of vision. He gasped.
"Mein Gott!"
His paces quicken, rushing over to assist the poor, fatigued German.
"Was ist los?!"
He asked, his voice hurried and frantic. Even through the midst of another excruciating wave of contractions, he managed a brutally sardonic response.
"In wehen, scheißkopf! Wie sieht es aus?!"
Despite this, the officer went to work assisting. The two hypothetically praying no one else would come across them. Reinhardt kindly removes his own jacket, as to provide some form of comfort against the hard ground, easing the expectant officer onto it.
"Hinlegen"
He instructs. Christof winces as he changes his position sitting against the wall, to lying down on the unforgiving ground. The uniform wasn't much. But it protected his head at least. His discarded trousers placed underneath his lower half, his own jacket reserved to wrap the baby in. The overwhelming sensation to push was upon him. With the countless hours in search of shelter, combined with the insurmountable amount of stress on his body. He was now fully dilated.
"Fick!"
He curses in pain. Dross brings an index finger to his lips to shush him. They couldn't afford any unnecessary attention. How it hadn't happened already was shocking. The stolid officer does a quick examination before he is sure he was satisfied with the expectant father proceeding. He gives a light head nod.
" Schieben..sorgfältig"
He instructs once more. Christof mustered any traces of remaining strength left and bore down. An elated flash sweeps across Dross' face as he realized, with even one push, how much progress was made.
"Ich kann den kopf sehen!"
He stated. A momentary spark of elation in his voice. Christoff gives a weary smile and chuckles softly. It seemed as though his body was now fueling off a surge of hormones and endorphins. Thankfully, thereby distracting his brain from honing in on the sheer intensity of his labor pains. He could feel the baby gradually move down further. If he could just push her shoulders out, Dross would guide her the rest of the way.
"Pushen ein bisschen mehr, okay?"
An explosion nearby, causing the ground to quiver, dust and bits of cement particles showering them. Somehow, this life-threatening occurrence was just what the officer needed. He found he now had his second wind. Once again, his eyes harshly shut. Subconsciously uttering a string of fatigued groans before boring down, his muscles, again contracting. He catches a glimpse of Dross moving in closer. An immediate presence of uncomfortable pressure. He could only hope this signaled Reinhardt now had a firm hold of her tiny shoulders. And just like that, the agonizing sensation had lifted.
"Sie ist hier!"
Dross announces. Inadvertently breaking his own orders and raising his voice. However, considering they were in the midst of Hell on Earth, they owed this modest bit of happiness to themselves, and to make a few exceptions. Christof's heart instantly swelling with pride and adoration upon hearing his daughter's first cries. Despite being surrounded by bloodshed and turmoil, even this wasn't enough to break the steel-plated bonds of love between a father and his daughter.
"Kann ich sie sehen?"
He inquires weakly, Dross delicately swaddles the baby girl in her father's jacket. Careful as to keep her delicate skin from coming into contact with his various military medals. Slipping his iron cross into the breast pocket. Reinhardt couldn't help but chuckle softly as he handed the infant into her awaiting father's arms, with the same care and precaution as disarming a bomb.
"Natürlich"
That airy chuckle returning to his voice in response. Christof could feel a swarm of emotions all welling up at once. He waited nine long months for this moment. Gingerly brushing an index finger over her cherubic cheeks. Her tiny face scrunches in discontent, fair wisps of whitish-blonde hair. Finally opening her doll-like round eyes, revealing a breathtaking sky blue. His heart seemingly getting caught in his throat. No amount of high ranking honors, medals, or decorations, could ever compare to the 7.6 lb one he cradled in his arms. Ever so gently, placing a loving kiss atop her head.
"Vielen Dank, Reinhardt"
He spoke at long last. His strength returning at a snails pace. The officer simply smiled and nodded. Both knew they couldn't stay there, essentially nothing more than sitting targets for the Soviets. Dross aids in finally getting the young father to his feet. Slipping back into his trousers, and Dross, his jacket. The little girl started to whimper. He makes short order of returning his visor cap to its rightful place atop his head.
Focusing his attention, immediately, back on his fussy daughter. Stroking the feather down wisps with such care, one could momentarily mistake her for a porcelain doll. He rocks her agilely, voice reverting back to a docile whisper.
"Shhh..shhh, es ist okay, Liebling. Papa's hier"
Regrettably, all was not all right. As the men soon picked up the distinct sounds of approaching enemy soldiers echoing off the tunnel's walls. Reinhardt's eyes widen in fear. Quickly turning to the officer, motioning for him and the baby to leave immediately. A pang struck Christof's heart, that his fellow brother in arms was sacrificing his life to save him and his daughter's.
"Aus, Schnell!"
He ordered briskly. Christof tips his visor. Drawing his daughter closer to his chest, before flashing a somber expression. The baby's soft cries brings him back into focus, hurriedly attempting to make his way out. This was no easy feat when just given birth mere minutes ago. He hushes the baby gently, finally exiting the decrepit tunnel. It was then he heard it, causing his heart to free-fall. The bone-chilling exchange of the Soviets orders, then.. a gunshot.
END
