Cyborg 009 Fan Fiction ❯ The Road from Berlin ❯ Chapter 1

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

(* Author's note: Hello all! Before I get into this much further, I want to caution you that this story contains some foreshawdowy type spoilers for 004's back story as told in Tears of Steel. But, odds are, if you haven't seen the episode, you still know the back story. If that's the case, forget I said anything.

Now that that's done with, I'd like to thank GoldAngel2 for betaing this story before I posted it. She's a big help and a great author - go read her stuff . . . after you read this :)

Context time: This story takes place a little before Albert and Hilda's attempted escape from Berlin. Enjoy! *)



The Road from Berlin

Albert Heinrich was tense. It was dark and the rain made it very difficult to see has he drove around the twisted road at breakneck speeds. His truck slid in the mud and it shook and creaked ominously over every bump, obviously not appreciating such rough treatment after so many years of faithful service.

He took his eyes off the road for a second to see how his wife was doing. Hilda Heinrich was in the front passenger seat, gripping the seat belt across her chest so tightly that her fingers were turning white. In the brief second he had looked at her, he had seen the fear in her eyes.

Albert didn't know if it was his driving that had frightened her so or the reason they were driving around on this rainy night in the first place. They were driving to the Wall: either they were going to escape Berlin or die in the attempt. It was more likely than not that the both of them would die tonight and he knew it well. He'd seen it happen to others who had tried.

While he wasn't afraid to die and his resolve to do this was held firmly in place by his desire to leave the Hell his home had become and regain what freedom a man could have in these troubled times, he worried.

Hilda was the only woman he'd ever loved and it tore at him to put her in so much danger. He didn't know what he'd do if something happened to her. Probably commit suicide - a life without Hilda by his side would not be any sort of life that he'd want to live. He would never tell her that though, because he already knew what she'd say.

She'd say that he was being foolish. She'd say that she would never want him to end his life if she was gone. She'd say that, if she did die, she'd want him to find someone else and be happy. That his happiness was more important than anything.

That was the main reason that she was in this truck tonight; because she knew that it would make him happy. He knew that because she'd said so.

He thought back to the beginning of the night. He'd asked her one more time if this was what she wanted to do. He'd told her that he'd forget the whole thing and never bring it up again if she wanted to stay. And, as much as he wanted his dream of freedom to come true, he'd meant it. What good would his hard earned freedom be if Hilda wasn't with him to share in it?

She had stared at him for a long time, as if she'd been looking into his soul. Then she'd spoken, sounding as serious as he'd ever heard her be. "Albert, I think that this is probably a mistake. I think that we have a comfortable life here and I'm afraid of what we might find in the outside world if we make it that far."

He'd bowed his head, about to tell her that he understood and would stand by his promise when she had touched his face and made him look at her again. She was smiling. "But I love you and I want you to be happy. I know if I make you stay you won't be - you might even decide to hate me one day." She'd put a finger over his lips when he'd opened his mouth to protest. "I know you think you won't, but I know that you will resent me. And I wouldn't be able to bear that."

Then she'd hugged him, burying her face in his neck. "I'm afraid, Albert. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose you. But I want you to be happy and you'll never be happy if I make you stay here."

That was one of the things that he loved about his wife: the fact that she knew him so well. If anything happened to her tonight, he'd never be able to forgive himself. Assuming, of course, that he survived.

Albert slowed the truck down and pulled to the side of the road. It was time. He looked over to his wife and offered her a smile that he didn't feel. "You ready to go in the back?"

"I am." Hilda unhooked her seat belt and leaned across the seat. They met in the middle and Albert held her tightly and kissed her. She smiled and rested her palm on his cheek. "Whatever happens, Albert, I want you to know that I have no regrets."

He laughed weakly as he covered her hand with his own. "Don't talk like that! Everything will be fine, you'll see."

"I know." She slid away from him and opened the passenger side door. "I know."

He got out of the truck, please to note that the rain was slowing. It would probably be better if he didn't look soaked when he got to the Wall - guards might get suspicious. He opened the back of the truck and helped Hilda climb inside. "Will you be all right in here?"

She nodded. "I'll be under the tarps just in case they come in - I won't make a sound!" Crouching down she held out her hand and Albert took it. "It'll be all right."

He wished that he could just hold on and never let go. But he couldn't. He knew that. Still, it seemed like a long time before he released her hand. He wanted to say something but couldn't think of anything that wouldn't sound like they were last words. Knowing that he was just delaying the inevitable, Albert summoned up a smile and tried to sound confident. "I'll see you when we get to the other side."

She smiled and he shut the door. He stood there for a long moment and stared, trying to convince himself that he was just giving her time to get settled. What he really wanted to do was open the door back up and ask her one more time if this was what she wanted. But he wouldn't do that because she'd already given him her answer. 'Whatever happens-'

On suddenly unsteady feet, he climbed back into his truck. He closed his eyes and offered a quick prayer to God that nothing would go wrong and that they would make it. He only hoped, as he started the truck and began the short two mile journey to the Wall, that God was listening.

And that he and Hilda would be together on the other side.