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Der Meißel der Seele	By : Wertiyurae Category: G through L > Hogan's Heroes Views: 1599 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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While Colonel Hogan had made no promises to do as he’s been asked, Klink had still felt cautiously optimistic about the whole plan. Sure, he had no guarantees but he finally had something that he’d thought he’d never have again: hope. For the first time since General Adler had blackmailed him, he’d felt light, as though a terrible weight had been eased off his shoulders. For the first time since last night, he’d almost felt like himself again.
For hours, not counting a few uncomfortable moments when he got his meals, he’d felt almost normal.
Unfortunately, like all good things, the feeling couldn’t and didn’t last.
Seven o’clock found him sitting on the couch, furiously polishing his monocle and resisting the urge to send for Colonel Hogan so he could find out what the American had decided to do. If there was one thing that Klink despised, it was uncertainty and, with everything that was going on, he’d had just about as much uncertainty as he could stand.
He was grateful for the hope he’d been given, of course he was, but he hated not knowing what was going to happen or what he ought to be doing. Should he be clearing off his desk so nothing else got broken when last night repeated itself? Should he practice looking worried and surprised about the escape attempt when it happened? He had no idea and he was tired of just waiting for things to happen.
Regretfully, the waiting was inevitable and what he did know for certain was that he wasn’t ready to face General Adler again. Well, that wasn’t quite correct. It wasn’t the facing that was the problem; it was the being used part that he wasn’t ready for. This morning, the General hadn’t been able to do much more than kiss him but tonight, with the lessened risk of being caught, he’d be able to do more and Klink was not ready to go through that again.
For one thing, he still hurt from the night before. That was the reason he was sitting on the couch, polishing his monocle out of existence rather than using that nervous energy to pace as he was wont to. He’d tried pacing and it’d taken less than ten minutes before the slight limp he’d managed to ignore became something more noticeable and more painful. If this was what happened when General Adler was making an effort to be “gentle”, Klink had no desire to know what he’d feel like if the General didn’t take such “care.”
He also wasn’t looking forward to this new game that General Adler wanted to play. Klink had gotten away with a kiss on the cheek this morning but he doubted that the General would let him off so easily tonight. Just when he thought that his situation couldn’t get any more disgusting! It had been bad enough to endure that swine’s advances but to actually become active in this, well, how far was the General planning on taking this pretense? The last thing Klink wanted to do was pretend that he wanted what was being forced on him!
Although, considering how he’d reacted, how he’d enjoyed it and everything, shouldn’t he want it? Most people liked doing things they enjoyed; shouldn’t he?
He stopped his polishing and stared down at his motionless hands. That was the other reason he wasn’t ready for tonight’s meeting with General Adler. He didn’t want to believe that he was the sort of person he seemed to be: the sort of person who enjoyed doing unnatural things with people he found abhorrent - never mind his sudden bouts of temper. He really didn’t want to believe that he was this strange, sick person and that he’d never seen it until now. But how could he argue with the facts? How could he argue that he hadn’t enjoyed it when he’d lost control like he had?
And it’d be even harder to argue if it happened again tonight.
Klink rubbed his face and wasn’t quite as surprised as he’d have like to be when his hand came away wet. Crying again. He was equal parts embarrassed and annoyed: embarrassed to be carrying on this way and annoyed at his lack of control. At least it hadn’t happened in front of anyone else. Although, if this kept happening, it’d only be a matter of time before someone caught him.
Now there was a conversation that he wasn’t looking forward to having.
After wiping his eyes and replacing his monocle, he glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost eight. There was a little more than two and a half hours now until whatever happened happened and Klink didn’t want to spend all that time sitting here, thinking. It’d be one thing if his thoughts ever led anywhere useful but they didn’t. They just went around in disheartening circles, without resolution, without end and he was so tired of it.
If only he could stop thinking for a while . . .
A couple ideas came to mind but they involved incapacitating himself and he knew, as badly as he wanted to stop thinking, that that wasn’t such a good idea. He was in enough trouble without creating more for himself. And it wasn’t that he was only worried about General Adler’s reaction (Klink doubted that the beast would have nearly as much fun if he wasn’t aware of what was going on) - he had a job to do here. He had responsibilities! At any moment, General Burkhalter might just decide to visit or the Gestapo might come to camp; being incapacitated around them was a good way to go right to the Russian Front.
He wasn’t quite that desperate to get out of General Adler’s clutches!
A dark voice in the back of his mind whispered, 'At least, you’re not yet.'
Klink stood too quickly and winced. He had to remember to be more careful until the soreness went away. Of course, when that would be was anyone’s guess what with General Adler and his ‘next times.’ He just prayed that being sore would be the worst of it because there was no way that he was going to seek a doctor’s help if he did get a serious injury: he’d never be able to explain what had happened without implicating himself and being arrested was one of the things he’d been trying to avoid.
So, he had to do his best to make sure that it wouldn’t come to that. Just stay on the General’s good side, if such a beast existed, and hope that General Adler remembered his promise not to hurt him. Although, considering how easily he’d changed the rules of the deal, Klink wasn’t even sure he could expect that much.
Carefully, he made his way to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a generous helping of Schnapps. While the amount in the glass was more than he usually liked to drink at once, he decided that there was little harm in the over indulgence. It was early enough that this small amount of alcohol would no longer be affecting him by ten thirty and it would help with the pain he was feeling.
Within seconds, the glass was empty and he set it down with a measure of reluctance. Even though he knew that it would be about the most foolish thing he could think of doing, he couldn’t deny that there was a temptation to refill the glass. More than once. It was early enough that, if he started now, he could drink himself into a stupor if he wanted to.
But he really didn’t want to. Not only because he didn’t want to be defenseless, but it would make things very awkward if Colonel Hogan actually did come through with that escape attempt. It wouldn’t be a good example for the men to have their Kommandant teetering around, acting like a drunken fool.
No, he didn’t need to do that. He felt foolish enough.
Shaking his head, he sighed and started towards the bedroom. He had about two hours before whatever happened happened and he wanted to try and get some sleep. Even as little as an hour would be welcome if he could manage it.
And maybe he’d finally able to stop thinking, if just for a while.
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- 11
- 12
- 13
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Der Meißel der Seele