Work Text:
A/N: This is a one-shot – divergent for the flashback scene where Eichhorst discovers Abraham’s busted up fingers. I felt like there was a wasted opportunity there: their tangled & disturbing history could have been made even MORE tangled & disturbing if this had happened! Enjoy.
(And, for anyone who somehow found their way to this fic without knowing the show: Abraham is a concentration camp prisoner and Eichhorst is a Nazi. Eichhorst is also secretly in the service of a vampire, who he calls the Master, who creeps around the camp at night drinking prisoners' blood. Abraham is a woodworker, and Eichhorst has had him working on the Master's fancy coffin (without telling him what it was for). The two of them have spent a lot of creepy time alone together during this project. Last night, the Master caught Abraham watching him feed, and broke his hands like the sadistic asshole he is. Now this happens.)
By some luck – astoundingly good luck or astoundingly bad – the guard who was sorting them today was Eichhorst.
Any other guard might not have spared a second glance, but Eichhorst knew him, and saw immediately that he was feeling poorly. Any other guard might have just waved him through, but Eichhorst stopped to investigate, and found his ruined hands, and that was disaster.
But, on the other hand, with any other guard the disaster would have been irreparable. With Eichhorst, perhaps…?
“Someone attacked me last night,” he said, as quietly as he could. A prisoner daring to have words with a guard – daring to volunteer words when none had been asked for – could draw attention and attention was never good. “But I’ve reset the bones and I will heal. In a few days I’ll be fit to work again. Just a few days.” He knew that abject begging would do no good though; the guards by now were immune to it. So he summoned all his nerve and tried something else. “I just need a few days,” he repeated, staring Eichhorst hard in the eyes. “After everything, can I ask that grace of you?”
Eichhorst stared back for a long silent moment. Unmoving. Then he cocked his head just a hair – a nod, for no one else to see. “Of course,” he said softly. His eyes flickered briefly to the left. “You don’t belong in that line, A230385.”
“Thank you, sir.” He ducked his head and moved fast before anything else could-
“Wait.” Abraham froze. Oh no. “A230385: who attacked you?” He turned slow, to buy time to think of something, but then Eichhorst asked: “Was it a guard, or a prisoner?”
His mouth opened and closed, but his mind was paralyzed. Finally he just shook his head.
Eichhorst frowned. “You must tell me, A23-.” And then he stopped abruptly. His face softened in shock. “It wasn’t either, was it,” he recognized. “You saw something.”
His mouth worked again, but still he could not speak. He nodded.
“You saw something. What did you see?” Eichhorst came and stood very, very close to him. “Tell me what you saw.”
He swallowed. Once, twice, three times. Then he managed “A-. A creature.” But that wasn’t quite right; it had talked to him, it had-… “A being.”
Eichhorst didn’t need anything further. “You saw the Master,” he breathed. Awed… but maybe a touch of resentment as well? “You saw him. Fearfully tall. Cloaked. At night.”
He nodded. The Master. So Eichhorst served this thing. So it would not be wise to say monster and creature about it. And that emotion he heard? It was envy.
He knew that he must tread carefully given Eichhorst’s feelings, but it was time to prove the truth of his claim. And as horrifying as the truth was, it was still a relief to finally speak of it to someone who would believe. “I saw him feed from the prisoners – drink their blood,” he said clearly. “He has a-.” He reached up and touched himself on the mouth, ignoring the flare from his broken fingers.
“Yes. He does.” Eichhorst tilted his head back and frowned thoughtfully. “I’m afraid I must reconsider your request, A230385. If the Master saw fit to maim you, then I will not second guess him. For all I know, he did this as a test of my obedience – he wants to see me make a sacrifice, of someone I rather like.”
Someone I rather like. Revolting. Disturbing. But he put that aside and focused. This is how we live. “Or perhaps he crossed paths with me at random,” he suggested. “Or perhaps it is a test, but not of your sacrifice. Perhaps the- the Master wants to see how you judge the worth of those who serve you.” He stumbled over the lunacy for only a moment. “Or perhaps he wants to see you break the rules. To find out whether you’re willing to ignore the bestial apes that are in charge of this place, and make a decision on your own.”
Had he overreached? No matter now; it was done. He stood and waited.
After a long silence, Eichhorst cracked a small smile. “I think perhaps I’ve been underutilizing you, A230385,” he said. “I had no idea you’ve a silver tongue in addition to your woodworking talents.”
God gives us the right words at the right time, he thought. But he didn’t answer.
“All right: I’ve made my decision,” Eichhorst said briskly. “If your continued existence offended the Master, then you would not be here today. So.” He gestured to the right.
Abraham nodded, and said thank you sir a second time.
“You are most welcome. But heal fast, A230385,” he warned in parting. “The Master has no use for useless things.”
The End.
Please let me know what you think! Lurking is mean in small fandoms :-p