Just a little snippet story of Marsh and Kelly if they were alive after ww1
The winters in Germany were always ruthless. Bitter winds gusting down the empty streets.
A lean young man walked down the road, the broken lamp lights barely illuminating the icy concrete at night.
He wore a thick trench coat and heavy leather work boots, a stuffed duffle bag knocking his side as he walked. Tilting his shapless cap down, sheilding his face from the blasts of freezing air, short brown hair hidden beneith it.
He was disapionted he had to flee this country, the place he grew up, he was still attached.
But ever since he had to serve in world war one, when it was nearing it's last year, they lost. Then he had to watch the aftermath of the destruction of war and depression ruin his once beutiful home, it was sad.
But with Hitler all in the news, his horrifying speeches being chanted everywhere.
His sadistic flare igniting the people in a way he has never seen before.
He loves Germany, but the government with each passing day becomes more corrupt, and with the promise of another world war, the man didn't want to die early and experience the trauma of battle again. The pop of gunshots still terrify him to this day.
He walked towards the small cottage like ticket shack, smoke flogging out of the brick chimmney, orange light spilling from the windows.
Trudging up the mini steps, he twists the door knob and swings the door open, ringing the tiny bell at the top corner. The fire place in the back past the red couches heated the room, making his frigid nose run from the temperature change.
He wasted no time going up to the booking clerk, a round older man in some overralls, shifting through some papers at his desk which was more of a booth.
"Ticket to Cuxhaven please."
The young soldier asked in a monotone voice.
They exchanged the money for a stamped train ticket, the soldier checked his watch and back to the ticket, should be around an hour before the train comes.
Strolling back outside to the wooden bench bolted to the front of the place, located on the top of the padio.
He drops his weight down to the seat, sighing out, his legs tired from walking around all day. Thoughtfully, he fishes a hand into his bag, searching for some of the neatly packaged rations he stored in it.
Ripping open the paper wrapping, he took a big bit of the slightly stale bread. After taking the train to Cuxhaven, he'll have towalk to the boat port and hand one of the crew members some cash for passage on the cruise ship.
He should be able to get to the boat by tonight, it doesn't set off untill dawn, next morning.
He had been staring at the ground for the most part, but a low grumbling sound made his head snap up.
To his right, hiding behind the corner of the building, seemed to be a kid, probably younger than seven.
His wild semi-long brown hair matted, framing the half of his face that was showing, the soldier was drawn to the younger's eye. Like a frozen over lake in early winter.
The man smiled, the kid reminded him of his late brother Nathan, and the times they used to fish before he died from pneumonia. He whiped out another ration and held it out toward the boy.
The man bent his head to meet the kid's eye, softening his expression.
The kid sheepishly stepped from his hidding place and timildy approached the man, taking his offering and running back away to his safe place.
A worried look over took the soldier's face, the kid body was dressed in the thinnest clothes that didn't even protect him against the cold, let alone fit him.
The boy's skin was almost grey, his neck, fore arms and calves fully exposed, his shoes all worn out and holey.
The soldier stands up and carefully strode up to the corner of the building where the kid was, who looks up in absolute terror, clutching his bread chunk close to his chest, like it was going to be taken. He was bone skinny, little to no meat on him, his little limbs like white sticks.
The man bends down and puts out his hand invitingly to the boy.
The boy's eyes shift back and forth between the man's face and hand, searching for any malicous intent, but was only met with kind eyes.
He hesitanly excepts the hand, his small one's engulfed by a large heated palm.
The soldier guided the boy back to the bench and had him sit down. Zipping open his bag, yanking out a bulky blanket, draping the wool fabric over the boy, encircling his entire body.
The look on the little boy's face was a mix of shock and graditude, the soldier's heart just melted, it was as if his sibling was really here with him.
He sat next to the boy, both of them chewing in unison.
He kid stops eating, shaking his head as he frowned at the ground with cloudy eyes.
The soldier's heart squeezed, the kid isn't that old, his parents probably abandoned him not to long ago.
Since Hitler been running his presidency campaign, he sky rocketed rascism and hate crimes against jewish people, it was horrible.
He can only imagine what happened to the boy's parents that lead him to this awful situation.
Luckily he himself wasn't a jew, so life didn't really change for the most part, but for this kid, he knows time will only make it worse for him living here.
The soldier patted the boy's back comfortingly, who leaned into the warm touch.
The man brought the question up to steer the younger away from the conceivably bad memories.
The boy lifted his head, swallowing down his bite of grub.
The little brunette mumbled out his words.
The soldier was smitten over the kid, so many fond memories flooding his head.
"You can call me Marshall."
Kelly gave him a small smile. Marshall toyed with the idea of asking the kid to join him on his voyage to america.
Imagining leaving the kid here made him feel sick to the stomach, Kelly would probably die from starvation or worse be killed.
Marshall had saved up a large sum of money for his excursion, he knows extra tickets don't cost much, so another person wouldn't be a big hassle finacially.
From the rumors he heard about America having a booming economy at the moment. Plentiful jobs, good pay, and week ends off. It wouldn't be that hard to support both himself and the kid.
He jostled Kelly's shoulder's, grinning happily.
The boy lit up, his ocean-like irises almost shining.
Marshall chuckled, the smaller male kicking his feet back and forth in excitement from with in the blanket.
"Yes, yes you can, but first I need to go buy you a ticket too."
After a few minutes he returned out of the door, slipping another ticket into his pocket.
Kelly bolted out of his seat and sprinted to Marshall, hugging his leg tight, making him stumble back.
Kelly pressed his cheek to the leg's jeans, looking up at the man with a dopey smile.
Fuck he's so adorable, his short stature swaddled in the warm material.
In the distance Marshall heard a high pitched whistle, feeling the rumble from the tracks through his boots. He glanced at his wrist, it was only seconds away from the train stopping for pick up.
He puts his hand low, opening it up for the kid's. The train's peircing light cut into the dark, the hiss of the breaks screeching out until it haulted.
Kell's tiny hands clasped onto three of Marshall's fingers.
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