Chapter Two

Jesse stood outside the ice cream parlour, shivering a little from the cold. Or maybe it was nerves. But he quickly shook off that idea; Jesse St James didn't get nervous. Ever. He knocked.

After a moment, he heard the click of a lock and the door opened a few inches. Quinn stood there, smiling in relief when she saw it was him. 'Jesse! You came,' she said excitedly, letting him enter before quickly locking the door again.

'Well, your message was intriguing and my curiosity got the better of me,' he said, smiling at her.

Quinn laughed. 'I'm glad it did, you really need to be here. I'm not expecting anyone else, so if there's another knock on that door...I, um...well let's not think about that,' she said, looking a little frightened at the prospect.

Jesse frowned, perplexed. 'What exactly is going on here?' he asked, glancing around at the dark, empty café. Quinn gestured for him to follow her, and they walked to the very back of the room.

She went behind the counter where the enormous freezer cabinet sat, containing every flavour of ice cream imaginable. Jesse was confused and now a little worried; what if this was a trap? Quinn reached down the front of her shirt, looking for something. Jesse hurriedly looked away out of politeness, but then became paranoid that she had bought him here to seduce him. Beginning to formulate an apology in his head, Quinn laughed at his awkwardness and rolled her eyes.

'Don't be silly, Jesse, I'm not trying to have sex with you' she said. Jesse's eyes widened at her candid language. He knew all about sex - well, as much as he could know from books and exploring his own body. He was yet to actually have sex. It was not customary to have sex at the age of seventeen.

'You're rather...well, explicit, aren't you?' he said to Quinn, who had now retrieved a key from her bra. She grinned.

'Well I suppose you could say that. I don't talk in long fancy metaphors. I just say it. And life's too short. I don't see the point in waiting around for something so wonderful,' she explained.

'You mean you've...you've had...been with...,' Jesse fumbled over his question. Quinn placed a hand on his shoulder to silence him. 'Don't be embarrassed to ask about the most human of experiences. Yes, I've had sex. I've been with three people,' she said casually.

Jesse was stunned. The girl in front of him looked no older than sixteen. The most he and Rachel had done was kissing.

'Sorry. I forget that not everyone is as casual as I am,' she apologised. Jesse shook his head.

'No, forgive me for reacting like that. It's just, I've never been with anyone - sexually - and you've been with three men already!' he said, still trying to wrap his head around the fact.

Quinn laughed. 'I said three people. I didn't specify anything further,' she winked at him.

Jesse's mouth dropped open and he closed it hurriedly. He'd read about homosexuality, but had never come across it in real life. 'You mean you're a, um, a - ,' he began, but Quinn stopped him.

'All in good time,' she said, then her tone became more serious. 'Jesse, what I'm about to show you is top secret. You cannot tell anyone, because this is dangerous, seriously dangerous,' she told him. 'If those Nazis outside knew what we were doing in here...they wouldn't hesitate to kill us,' she whispered.

Jesse felt the nerves trying to creep back up again, but he pushed them firmly away, and tried to speak calmly. 'So what's going on, here? What's so top secret?' he asked Quinn, who was now fumbling with the key in her hands. There was a pause whilst she thought.

'I suppose we've spent enough time chit chatting. I'll show you,' she said, reaching down. Quinn opened the top of the ice cream cabinet, and lifted out a large tub of strawberry flavour.

'I'm not hungry,' Jesse said, now beginning to feel even more confused and a little sceptical. She rolled her eyes.

'No, silly. Look,' Quinn pointed. Jesse leaned closer, and noticed a tiny keyhole which the ice cream tub had previously been concealing. She slipped the key into the lock and turned it. Jesse then felt something bump gently into his leg. Glancing down, he saw that the bottom of the cabinet had swung open, like a door. Jesse crouched down to look more closely, and felt a thrill of excitement; it was a secret passage, stairs leading towards something he couldn't see.

Quinn took his hand and steered him down the steps, closing the door behind them. The passage was dark, but not cold, and gradually Jesse's eyes adjusted. He heard a sultry, bluesy sound drifting up the steps. 'Is that...jazz music?' he asked, appreciating the lazy beats and moaning instruments.

'It is,' Quinn confirmed, not elaborating any further. The music grew louder as they drew closer, soon coming to arrive at a door. She opened it and Jesse's eyes widened in surprise at what he saw.

It seemed to be a...club, maybe? There was a bar at one end, with people and tables scattered about the rest of the room. The lights were dim, and a buzz of chatter filled the air, underscoring the music being played. Jesse took in the small stage, with several musicians and a girl singer crooning into a microphone. She was very thin, with coffee coloured skin and jet black hair, the loose curls flowing down her back. The girl was wearing a dark red dress, shockingly short, and her feet were bare as she closed her eyes and lost herself in the music.

Jesse cast his eyes around the rest of the room. A tall, tanned boy was serving drinks from the bar. He seemed to have lost his shirt, which surprised Jesse. He'd never been to an establishment where the staff were half naked, in fact, he'd never really seen anyone at all, anywhere, who wasn't wearing a full set of clothes.

The people who filled up the rest of the room interested Jesse greatly. There was a small boy with dark curls, sat with a tall blonde girl who had her arm draped around him. At another table was a tall boy with soft blonde hair, nursing a drink.

Most people were glancing at him with some interest - clearly wondering who he was and why he was here - but when they saw that he was with Quinn, their gazes slid off him.

'What is this place?' he asked her in awe.

'You'll find out soon enough,' she said elusively. 'Now, find a seat. We'll be starting in a few minutes,' she said.

'What? Where?' Jesse asked, receiving no answer. He glanced back, only to find that Quinn was no longer by his side. He saw that she had gone over behind the bar, and was wrapping her arms around the tall bartender, who smiled and leaned down to kiss her. Jesse was now thoroughly confused, because he had thought Quinn was a homosexual. No, lesbian - that was the right word, wasn't it? He tried to remember his reading of female sexuality, which was rather limited. Yes, lesbian was the right word, he recalled, originating from the Greek island of Lesbos. So why was she kissing a man? Jesse decided to ask her later, storing the question in the back of his mind.

He then remembered that Quinn had told him to find a seat, and glanced around. People seemed to be sitting in groups, talking to one another. However, Jesse didn't know anyone here, except for Quinn, but she seemed to be somewhat occupied. So he scanned the room, looking for an empty table, and spotted one near the back. Jesse swiftly made his way to it, not wanting to draw more attention to himself.

After a few moments of twiddling his thumbs, he felt someone sit in the chair next to him. It was the singer. 'Hello,' she greeted him.

'Good evening,' he greeted her politely.

'Actually it's morning,' she said playfully, pointing to a large clock on the wall. Jesse saw that it was, indeed, after midnight, which technically made it the morning.

'Oh, well, good morning, then,' he amended. 'Your song was wonderful,' he complimented. She smiled and thanked him. There was a short pause as they looked at each other. She was beautiful, anyone could see that, but upon closer inspection her dress was rumpled and torn in places, her eyes sad and tired. 'I'm Jesse,' he said, extending his hand tentatively.

'Santana,' she returned, shaking his hand and smiling warmly. 'I've not seen you around here before,' she remarked, taking a sip of her drink.

'Quinn invited me, today,' he explained. Santana nodded.

'I see. And did she tell you anything about who we are and what we do here?' she asked him. Jesse shook his head.

'I've been wondering what could be so secret and dangerous,' he said. 'This place - it's not illegal or anything, is it?' he asked warily.

'Yes,' Santana answered casually. Jesse gulped, desperately trying to shake off his nerves yet again. She noticed his expression and hastily clarified. 'Well, by the Nazi's standards, then yes, it's illegal. But by anyone else's standards, it's not. We're doing the right thing, here. If anything, the Nazis are the ones behaving unlawfully,' she said.

That made Jesse feel a little better, but he was still uncertain. Santana continued.

'We are a group called the Swing Youth. We started out because Hitler banned jazz, and initially we just wanted a place we could go where we could play our swing and our jazz without getting arrested. But then, as things worse than our music were taken away from us, this became less of a small alternative group and transformed into a rebel movement. We seek the American and British way of life, we define ourselves through music and freedom instead of through Nazism,' she explained.

Jesse was fascinated by what she was saying. 'Go on,' he urged.

'You're in the Hitler Youth, aren't you?' she asked, but it was more of an assumption.

'Yes. But I don't like it,' he hastily replied. 'We are all forced to attend. If it wasn't compulsory I wouldn't go,' he explained.

'Well, we're the Swing Kids, an alternative to the Hitler Youth. You'll notice that my hair is not in the Fuhrer-approved braids, my dress is short, my nails are painted and my lips are red,' Santana said. Jesse nodded.

'I've never seen girls like you. Or like any of the other girls here,' he commented, glancing around. Indeed, Quinn was in a short skirt with high heels. Her hair was pulled into a messy knot on top of her head, a cigarette perched on her lips. The other girl Jesse had seen was in trousers, which was highly uncommon, and wore flowers in her loose blonde hair.

'Well, we don't want to blend in with the crowd,' she explained.

'So you just come here to sing jazz and be yourselves?' he asked.

'Well, yes. But that's just part of it. In a few moments Quinn will start the meeting and you'll find out,' she said. Jesse nodded. 'Would you like a drink?' Santana asked as she drained the last of hers.

'Yes please,' Jesse said.

'Anything in particular?' she prompted.

Jesse had never drank alcohol before. Well, he'd had champagne at weddings, and the odd sip of wine, but nothing more than that. It wasn't customary for children to drink, but it appeared to be practically encouraged at this place. So he shrugged. 'Surprise me,' he said.

Santana smirked, clearly seeing right through his nonchalance, and sauntered off. Jesse watched as she stopped en route to the bar and draped herself over the blonde girl with flowers in her hair, kissing her deeply. He stared, not in disgust, but simply because he had never seen such a thing before.

Jesse sat back in his chair, fascinated by all of this. These were people he never knew existed - never thought could have existed. And from what Santana had said about the Swing Youth, he still had a lot to learn. There were people of all skin colours here, and different forms of love all around him. They weren't conforming to the Nazis ways, and Jesse was excited that he was here, that he was a part of it.

'I think you've had enough to drink, Brittany,' Blaine said, carefully taking her glass away. She pouted.

'No...I like it,' she slurred back, leaning close to him. He moved away, screwing his face up in disgust.

'God, you need to do something about your breath,' he said, laughing.

'I think I'll be the judge of that,' said a voice behind him. Blaine turned around, seeing Santana. 'Your song was great,' he said, gesturing at the stage and smiling. Brittany nodded in agreement.

'Yes, it was like rainbows and strawberries,' she said, grinning at Santana. Without further ado, the two girls were kissing. Blaine watched them fondly for a moment before the lonely bitterness kicked in. He wanted more than anything for Kurt to be here. He turned away and told himself that it was for Kurt's own good that he wasn't here, that keeping the Swing Youth a secret was to keep Kurt safe.

He caught the eye of the new boy, across the room. Blaine had seen him arrive with Quinn, so he guessed that the boy wasn't dangerous. Blaine smiled shyly at him, and the boy grinned back. He got up and walked over to where the boy was sitting, leaving the two girls alone.

'I'm Blaine,' he said, holding out his hand, which the boy took.

'Jesse,' he replied. He noticed that Jesse was looking at Santana and Brittany out of the corner of his eye, and Blaine's jaw tightened.

'Do you have a problem with my friends?' he challenged, and Jesse immediately shook his head.

'No, not at all. I just - I've never seen homosexuals before. I mean, lesbians. Well, both,' he stumbled. Blaine laughed.

'It's fine. I was worried that you weren't alright with it for a moment there. Most people who come here had never seen it, or even heard of it at first. Take Sam, for instance,' he said, nodding at Sam, who was talking to Puck at the bar. 'He never even knew two men could kiss and have sex before he came here,' Blaine told Jesse, who looked surprised.

'Really? I've known about homosexuality for a couple of years now. Nobody ever talks about it, so I got it out of books. I asked my father about it once, and he gave me the darkest look you could imagine,' he said. Blaine laughed, remembering the way his parents had reacted when he casually mentioned how handsome he found one of the boys at his school.

He was about to share the memory with Jesse, when Puck began shouting for everyone to be quiet. The band stopped playing abruptly and people ended their conversations, as Santana arrived at the table with several drinks and Brittany. 'I thought you looked like a whisky man,' Santana whispered, passing Jesse a glass of amber liquid.

'Really? I thought he looked like a nice man,' Brittany murmured, to which Jesse chuckled softly. The two exchanged names and then turned their attention to the front of the room. Puck was stood in front of the bar, and Quinn was perched on a stool next to him.

'Let's begin with the song,' Puck said, gesturing to the band, who began to play. Everyone began singing, except for Jesse because he had obviously never heard the song before.

Hitler's dictates make us small, we're yet bound in chains.

But one day we'll again walk tall, no chain can us restrain.

For hard are our fists, yes!

And knives at our wrists, for youth to be free, we lay siege.

This was repeated several times, and when the music stopped playing Blaine could feel the atmosphere in the room growing more focused and intent. The words of the song meant everything to him. One day, he wanted to be free. And he would do anything to achieve that, not only for himself, but for Kurt too, and millions of others.

Puck cleared his throat. 'As many of you are aware, the euthanasia situation is worsening,' he began. 'They are taking babies as well, now. Newborns,' he explained. Next to him, Quinn began crying quietly. Puck held her hand, and when he continued speaking it sounded like he himself was fighting back tears. 'My - our - daughter, Beth, was taken a fortnight ago, as some of you know. And we received notification that she had 'sadly passed away in her sleep' two days ago,' he said.

Blaine sighed, and there were murmurs of shock and hurt throughout the room. Beth was the sweetest thing he had ever seen, and now she had been murdered. Quinn was sobbing, and spoke, her voice shaking. 'I'm keeping up this façade that I'm happy, that nothing's wrong, but I'm truly miserable...and I never planned to have a child, I was terrified and angry when I realised I was pregnant, but...God, I just loved her so, so much. She was perfect. And they - they took her,' she said. Puck whispered something to her, and she nodded and stood up. 'Please excuse me. I just - I need to collect myself,' she said, flitting out of the room.

'Why would they kill a baby?' Jesse whispered, horrified, to Blaine, who turned to Jesse in disbelief. Then he remembered that Jesse was new here, and probably knew nothing about Hitler's euthanasia centres.

'They take babies and children that have 'problems', and they kill them. But they tell the general public that the deaths were accidents,' he explained. 'Quinn and Puck, they had a baby about a year ago, baby Beth, and like you just heard, she was taken and...well she's dead, now,' Blaine said sadly.

'What was wrong with Beth? What problems did she have?' Jesse asked. Blaine gave a hollow laugh.

'There was nothing wrong with her, nothing at all. She was - she was perfect. But, see, Puck is Jewish. And they hate the Jews. They want to wipe away every trace of Judaism from this country,' he said bitterly. 'They would have taken Puck, too, but he's been hiding here, underneath the café, for several months now. They thought that Beth would be alright as long as nobody knew who her father was, but...well. Quinn will tell you the full story one day, but they found out she had 'the non-German blood' or whatever they call it, and took her,' he finished.

'I understand completely. My girlfriend is Jewish. The way she gets treated...it makes me so angry. And it's getting worse and worse every day. I'm worried for her, and for all the others. Something needs to be done,' Jesse said. Blaine patted his shoulder comfortingly.

'That's why we're here. We're going to stop it,' he told him. Puck continued talking, reaching behind the bar to take out a large rolled-up sheet of paper. He spoke to the room, unrolling the papers and pinning them on the wall so everyone could see. Blaine looked closely, seeing that Puck had some sort of map.

'Initially, we were going to invade the euthanasia centres and bring them down from within. However, we've scrapped that plan because other countries seem to be hearing about them, and Hitler decided to end the euthanasia programme. Thank God,' he said.

'How do you know for sure?' Blaine called out. This wasn't the first time that the Swing Youth had found false information.

'My inside man told me,' Puck said, looking pointedly at Sam, who spoke.

'It's true. America knows, and Hitler's worried Russia will find out too. He's pulled the plug on the whole thing,' Sam confirmed. The room hummed in satisfaction, Blaine too; Sam was one of their greatest advantages but also their greatest threat. If the Nazis found out that he was a double agent, they would not hesitate in torturing Sam until he spilled all their secrets and plans. Blaine just had to hope that Sam's acting skills and Aryan looks would be enough to keep the Nazis fooled.

'What's the new plan?' Brittany asked, eyeing the maps on the wall.

'Our next mission is to bring it down,' Puck said confidently. There were murmurs of confusion throughout the room.

'What do you mean? Bring what down?' Sam asked. Quinn entered the room again, and spoke with a confident anger.

'Everything. The whole fucking thing. The schools, the camps, the hospitals, the Reichstag, Hitler. The end of the third Reich. We're going to tear down the whole reign of terror and bigotry; we're going to make Germany a safe place. A happy place. And when we can hang the heads of Goebbels, Speer, Goering, Himmler, Mengele and Hitler above this bar, with our jazz playing loud...we'll know that we did it,' she finished.

The entire room was stunned into silence. Blaine wanted to do those things, of course he did - but he didn't think that they were achievable. Maybe from a huge army, from thousands of trained soldiers perhaps, but not from a small group of teenagers. Other people were clearly thinking the same thing, but nobody dared speak. Quinn was so determined, and if anyone here had a reason to hate the Nazis, it was her. Puck was the one to break the silence.

'I understand that our mission seems impossible. But we are sure as hell going to try. Yes, we could all die. But I'd rather die trying than never try at all,' he said, and Blaine found himself agreeing. He was going to do this for Kurt, for Beth, for Quinn, for Puck, for Santana, for Brittany, and for all his other friends whose lives were in danger. And even though he felt terrified, he knew he would do it. It was the right thing to do. The only thing he could do.

Blaine slipped back into the hotel room at around three o'clock in the morning. He carefully slid back in the bed, with Kurt. As he breathed in his boyfriend's heavenly scent, Blaine knew, right there and then, as vanilla and honey consumed him, that he had to fight.

He had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard a commotion downstairs. A woman was crying loudly, and the shouts of several men were gradually growing louder and louder. Blaine began to feel scared, and when he heard someone yelling about 'faggots', his heart jolted. He began shaking Kurt awake.

'Kurt, Kurt, you need to wake up, come on,' he whispered urgently. His boyfriend's eyes fluttered open, and he looked so perfect that it almost broke Blaine's heart.

'What's happening...why is there shouting?' Kurt murmured sleepily. Then something seemed to click in his mind and he sat bolt upright. 'They found us,' he stated simply. Blaine saw tears fill his eyes.

'Please don't cry, Kurt,' he begged, barely holding back his own tears.

'We have to do - we have to do what we agreed on. What we said we'd do if they ever found us,' Kurt told him. Blaine's eyes widened in horror as he remembered a conversation they'd had, almost a year ago.

'No, I can't do that. I can't do that to you,' he told Kurt, shaking his head. But as the footsteps thundered closer and closer, Blaine slowly realised that he had no choice. He took Kurt in his arms, holding him close and tight. They kissed; they kissed harder than ever before, fast and desperate and rough. 'I love you, Kurt,' Blaine whispered, finally saying it. Kurt's face broke into a smile, despite everything.

'I love you too, Blaine. I love you, I love you, I love you,' Kurt murmured. His hand found Blaine's, and they looked at each other for a brief moment. Then the door was forced open.

The next morning, Jesse went over to Rachel's house, as usual. He let himself in and walked through to the kitchen, intending to cook breakfast to surprise his girlfriend. However, he found Rachel already sitting at the table, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Jesse immediately sat next to her and took her in his arms.

'What's wrong?' he asked her.

'They're sending me to a labour camp,' she said in a tiny whisper. Jesse's heart skipped a beat. He knew what that meant. He had learned a lot after last night, and he knew that if Rachel went to one of those places, she would be lucky to survive.

'You're not going,' he told her simply.

'I have to go. I got a letter this morning. It's compulsory,' she said flatly.

'Then we'll find a way around it...maybe you can hide. We can run away,' Jesse began, but Rachel stopped him.

'I have to go. If I try and avoid it, they'll find me. And then - then I'm not sure what they'll do, but it won't be good,' she explained. There was a pause. Jesse wanted to tell her about the Swing Kids, but he knew that he couldn't. It would be too dangerous.

'Rachel...there are people out there who are going to stop this. They'll save you and they'll stop the Nazis,' he told her. Rachel didn't look convinced, and continued to slouch sadly in her chair.

'When do you have to leave?' Jesse asked.

'Friday,' she answered.

'Right. So we have four days left. They are going to be the most perfect four days of your life,' he told her. Rachel managed to crack a smile.

'Thank you,' she murmured, before leaning over to kiss her boyfriend deeply.

Jesse returned the kiss, savouring every move they made. He knew there weren't many kisses left for them to share.

'What is going on here?' asked one of the officers who had stormed in. Blaine gulped nervously as he saw their uniforms and guns, pointing right at himself and Kurt. He looked at his boyfriend, who nodded. Blaine hesitated a split second longer before speaking.

'This...this fag forced me to come up here and he kissed me,' he lied, pointing at Kurt. The disgusting word tasted sour in his mouth, and Blaine hated that he'd had to say it.

The officers crossed the room and dragged Kurt off the bed, handcuffing him.

'You can't do this!' the landlady shouted, who was standing in the doorway, trapped behind the men. One of them smirked at her.

'Of course we can. Stupid homos - they aren't people,' the officer sneered at Kurt, who shrank away from him.

Blaine stared into Kurt's eyes as his love was taken away. Their eyes stayed locked until Kurt was out of sight.

He crossed to the window and looked out, seeing Kurt being pushed roughly into a police van and driven away into the night. Blaine collapsed onto the bed, crying loudly and openly. He rolled onto Kurt's side of the bed, and inhaled the scent from the pillow. Kurt. All around him and yet nowhere to be found.

--- One love. Too many complications. ---

Ok, so I hope you enjoyed it. I know it's really dark in parts, and it will continue to get darker.

A few things:

1. The Swing Youth (also known as the Swing Kids) was a real thing in Nazi Germany. You can google it.

2. The song they sing is also real; they used to sing it. I've written the English translation so you can understand it, for those of you out there who aren't Deutsch :)

3. Sam is referred to as Aryan. The Aryan race was a (stupid) thing that Hitler and the Nazis promoted as being the supreme German race. It was basically anyone who had blonde hair, blue eyes and wasn't Jewish, homosexual, mentally disabled or a traveller. It was a pretty sickening idea which you can read all about on the internet if you're curious.

4. The people Quinn refers to - they were some of the biggest and most dangerous people in Hitler's Third Reich. You can google them all if you really want. Goebbells and Mengeles were particularly awful.

5. The euthanasia centres were also, unfortunately, very real and very awful. Again, you can read all about it on wikipedia or some such website. I have only touched on the subject here.

6. The lyric at the end is from a song called Abandoned in Bandon

That's pretty much it for now, really. But you should know that this story is going to get very, very dark as we progress. Everything I write about in this story is based on true events, just so you know.

Anyways, I've rambled on enough now. PLEASE REVIEW PLEASE REVIEW PLEASE REVIEW!