Title: Small-Time Napoleons
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Dieter Hellstrom, Shosanna/Fredrick, guest appearance by Landa and mentions of one-sided Hellstrom/Bridget von Hammersmark
Rating: R; Violence, death and anti-Semitism. Basically, Dieter being a creeper.
Word count: 3224
Summary: Shosanna's identity is known and Dieter Hellstrom is assigned the task of dealing with her.
Warnings: This is one I had been working on for a while, before getting distracted and writing And We Will Feel The Weight. Shosanna and Fredrick spend the majority of the story separately, as this one is a tad Dieter-centric. This is also Tarantino's fault.



"What some men will do here for diamonds
What some men will do here for gold
They're wounded but they just keep on climbin'
And they sleep by the side of the road"
- Tom Waits, Diamonds & Gold


"Shosanna…Shosanna, I did not know. I did not know," his voice was strained, weak, and heavy with remorse.

Fredrick wanted to sob, but he could not find the strength to do so. They lay facing each other with mere inches between them, but in their conditions, it may as well have been miles. Raising a trembling hand, Shosanna rested it against the side of his face, her eyes reflecting everything he felt. His body screamed in protest, but pain be damned, Fredrick had to hold her as best as he could; he had to feel her. Wrapping an arm around Shosanna gently, and mindful of their wounds, Fredrick rested his forehead against hers and continued his plea,

"I am so sorry, Shosanna. I did not know. Shosanna, Shosanna…"

~

Dieter Hellstrom was not a man known for his compassion or remarkable brilliance. As Sturmbannführer, those below his rank found him to be an intimidating presence and civilians were outright terrified of him, which Dieter mercilessly used to his advantage. He was highly efficient and blindingly loyal to the cause, which earned him both the grudging respect and tolerance of those with whom he kept company. Though generally unconcerned with the impression he made upon others, there were a select few who held Dieter's interest.

There was Standartenführer Hans Landa, whom he viewed as the ideal role model and aspired to be: Charming, brilliant, and dedicated to his craft. Landa, however, viewed him as a nuisance and rarely ever attempted to mask his disdain for the younger man when in his presence; knowing of Dieter's idolization of him did Hellstrom no favors, yet Landa was sure to use this for his own benefit at every given opportunity.

Then there was Oberschütze Fredrick Zoller, war hero, burgeoning film star, and Goebbels' Golden Boy. Fredrick's naiveté and wide-eyed countenance touched a nerve within Dieter, something close to empathy. He held Zoller in high regard due to his achievements and because he was closer in age to Fredrick as opposed to the other higher-ranking men with whom the war hero had been forced to associate with, Dieter felt it was his duty to befriend the boy. However, it was to Dieter's dismay that Fredrick had not one malicious bone in his body, which he hoped the boy would learn to overcome with time.

Lastly, there was UFA actress, Bridget von Hammersmark. For Dieter, she was a painted angel amongst the decay, a perfect representation of the Aryan ideal and he treated her accordingly. Bridget treated him cordially and always with a smile, though she was able to recognize Dieter's lascivious intent as it was written across his face and held deep within his eyes. The more she resisted, the more he desired her.

Dieter may not have possessed Landa's intellect, but he was no fool; he knew what they thought of him and it both motivated the Sturmbannführer and drove him to the edge. Though he had proven himself capable and deserving of his rank time and time again, Dieter knew with a little more patience and biding his time, the chance to fully prove his worth to them would eventually present itself.

It was an order from Landa that Dieter realized that it had finally arrived. With a smug smile, he ushered Shosanna Dreyfus into the waiting automobile.

~

It was almost too good to be true: the young woman who, four years earlier, evaded Landa, the object of Zoller's affections and proprietor of the theater that would host the premiere of Goebbels' new masterpiece, Stolz der Nation, was a Jew. And now Dieter was assigned the task of killing her.

"Do not utter a word of this to Oberschütze Zoller, as the poor boy does not need to know right at this moment. It is of the utmost importance that you must remember that Herr Goebbels will be most upset if anything were to spoil his film premiere."

Landa's expression was serene, his mood most humorous.

"Now, do not fret over all of the little details," he assured Dieter, leaning in conspiratorially, "as all I require of you is to dispose of her."

Landa then gestured to the young woman still seated in the dining room, her back to them.

Dieter held a modicum of respect for her, as she had eluded capture for so long; such a feat had to be admired. Though she had to have known that this would have happened sooner or later, Dieter could not deny his disappointment at her retaining her composure. However, there was something rewarding in her eyes when he quietly informed her, by name, that she would be accompanying him out of the restaurant and to an undisclosed location.

~

The tension was thick and palpable. Dieter's French was not exemplary, as he was relegated to simple commands and greetings; in turn, Shosanna barely knew German, only a few words here and there, but nothing substantial. And so for the duration of the ride, the two sat in stillness; stiflingly unbearable for her, pleasantly soothing for him. Dieter sat beside Shosanna, acting the part of a gracious gentleman; his uniform cap placed in his lap, his hands folded neatly over it and a nearly beatific smile upon his lips. She kept her eyes trained ahead, posture rigid, and her hands gripped tightly in her lap. From the corners of her eyes, Shosanna was able to catch glimpses of buildings and streets she recognized en route to their destination. Ever since that night she arrived at Le Gamaar, a war orphan on Madame Mimieux's doorstep, Shosanna made certain to memorize as much of the city as possible; it was a daunting task, but she managed to keep detailed notes and maps, just in case. But Shosanna still had never anticipated this.

As slick as her palms became with sweat, no matter how hard her heart thundered and her chest constricted, Shosanna's face remained a mask of calm defiance. If Hellstrom wanted to take her life, then he would have it; but he would not bear witness to her breakdown.

~

The sleek, black sedan slowed its course as it came within a district of buildings, all of which were now taken over by the occupying forces. Their destination was that of a small, brick building; it was a vaguely familiar sight to Shosanna, as she had seen it once, maybe twice over the years. It was once a quaint tavern and inn, but like the other buildings within its vicinity, it now stood empty, save for the two armed officers who now stood guard at its entrance. Placing his cap back on his head, Dieter leaned forward to briefly and harshly address the driver. Shosanna focused her gaze straight ahead, hardly acknowledging him as he turned his attention to her. Dieter smiled broadly, an unsettling glint in his eyes as he gave her a tip of his cap and politely excused himself from the automobile. Her eyes darted to his direction as Dieter approached the officers; not wanting to linger, she then observed the driver, who was nervously drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. With both of them momentarily distracted, Shosanna's mind reeled. By her estimate, the drive took twenty minutes, and getting back to Le Gamaar by foot would prove a challenge.

But you cannot go back now.

There was still a slim chance that she could try and make a run for it.

And then what? Get shot in the back and die in the street?

With her identity now known, there was no place for Shosanna to run to if she were able to escape unscathed.

What will become of Marcel?

Shosanna was snapped out of her mulling as the driver scrambled out of the automobile to stand at attention as Dieter was now approaching them. There was another blunt exchange of words between the two; though it was fruitless for her to attempt to overhear their discussion, there were two words that stood out and made Shosanna's heart sink into her stomach:

Oberschütze Zoller.

Was Fredrick aware all along?

The passenger door swung open and Shosanna was welcomed by the sickening sight of Dieter Hellstrom's beaming face. Taking in a ragged breath, she steeled her resolve and accepted her heart-breaking realization: Shosanna was truly alone and trapped.

~

The armed officers were momentarily dismissed and the driver quickly departed, leaving only Dieter and Shosanna. Inside, the inn was dimly lit, the shades drawn on all the windows, save for one in the lobby. It was here that Dieter directed Shosanna to stand, while he seated himself into a plush, over-stuffed, maroon armchair. Relaxing, he removed his cap once more and settled it in his lap; he then reached into a pocket within his coat, producing a silver cigarette case and a lighter. Opening the case and looking to the woman standing before him, Dieter offered her one, but she did not answer; instead, Shosanna stood stiffly, staring back at him blankly. With a shrug, Dieter lit up a cigarette, content to set the proper mood. He wanted to savor this.

~

Fredrick was perplexed. He wanted to wait for Emmanuelle outside of the restaurant, to perhaps escort her back to the theater, but Landa sent him away; stating that were more security and business details to discuss with her. Fredrick complied, of course, but he made certain to check with the nice fellow who worked the projection booth, but he had no knowledge of Emmanuelle's whereabouts either. And so Fredrick stood outside of Le Gamaar, hoping for her safe return. He was now given more reason to worry as the black sedan pulled in front of the theater. Hermann, Dieter's driver, stepped out of the driver side door, giving Fredrick a hasty heel click and salute; it was clear that the man was on edge.

"Oberschütze Zoller, Sturmbannführer Hellstrom requires your immediate presence."

Fredrick's brows knitted together and he regarded Hermann warily. He was never one to refuse orders, but something was not right.

Opening the passenger side door, Hermann grew a little more urgent with his request.

"Please. It concerns the girl."


~

Taking a lazy drag off of his cigarette, Dieter raked his eyes over Shosanna. He wanted, needed to know what it was about her that appealed so greatly to Fredrick.

He is still a boy. Perhaps he will better appreciate exquisite beauty when he is older.

Dieter's eyes locked with hers and he smirked.

God willing.

Aside from her Jewish heritage, which he considered her greatest, unforgivable flaw, Dieter found numerous issues with Shosanna: Her hair, though blonde, was not lustrous enough for his liking. Her skin, though white, was far too pale, not the delicate, porcelain skin tone he found so favorable. Her nose was not all that refined, her large, green eyes were too round, not feline, as he preferred. Her face was not as rounded and softly contoured, her body not as shapely as he desired. As Dieter continued his silent appraisal, he took notice of how Shosanna tensed up, how her hands balled tightly into fists. It was obvious to him that she was expecting the worst, most animalistic of him.

How dare she.

Standing forcefully from the armchair, Dieter threw down his cigarette, grinding it out viciously beneath the heel of his polished boot. He was thoroughly repulsed and though he was aware she may not understand a word, Dieter could not hold back his revulsion.

"You dare to think that of me? You dare to think of me as being so brutish?"

He invaded her personal space, his face inches from hers.

"You insult me tremendously," Dieter sneered, "to think that not only would I ever perform such a reprehensible act upon a woman, but that I would ever knowingly lay my hand in such a manner upon a Jew?"

Shosanna could not help but flinch at his vitriolic use of her heritage.

Taking a deep breath, Dieter stepped back from her and regained control of his nerves. As he exhaled, he pulled his Walther out from inside his coat.

"I have had enough of this."


~

Dieter stood tall and proud in the middle of the street, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched the arriving automobile come to a stop a few feet in front of him. Before Hermann could even get out of the front seat and without even giving the proper salute, Fredrick burst out from the passenger side door and affronted Dieter.

"Where is Emmanuelle Mimieux?"

Dieter was only momentarily taken aback, as he found Fredrick's confusion and anger somewhat understandable. Tilting his head to the side, Dieter feigned ignorance.

"Emmanuelle Mimieux?"

"Yes. Emmanuelle Mimieux, theater proprietor of Le Gamaar," Fredrick was growing exasperated, "You met her this afternoon!"

Dieter's brow furrowed, as if he were struggling to comprehend just what it was he was being asked. He then smiled brightly,

"Oh, yes. You see, the woman you're looking for is not Emmanuelle Mimieux. As it turns out, she is, or was, Shosanna Dreyfus."

Fredrick withered, his voice barely audible,

"Sh-Shosanna…Dreyfus?"

Now clasping his hands in front of him, Dieter gave a small nod.

"Yes, but rest assured, Standartenführer Landa had me take care of her. I was not permitted to inform you of this, but I felt it was important that you should know now, so you can move forward with your duties and put this all behind you. The sooner, the better, I think."

Fredrick, appearing stricken, looked away and ran a hand through his hair. He then raised his face to meet Dieter's and spoke up once again, his voice shaky,

"Where is she?"

Not at all what he was expecting to hear, but trying his best to help Fredrick grasp the significance of the situation, he pressed on, growing more serious,

"Oberschütze Zoller, you are in shock, I can see that. However, you must realize that the young woman you felt for was a Jew and Herr Goebbel's prestigious premiere was going to be held in her filthy theater, a theater you attended on numerous occasions and recommended to Herr Goebbels; even forcing the rest of us to endure her presence. Now, because you were not aware of the fact that she was indeed a Jew, you will not be severely punished..."

Fredrick was more persistent, cutting the Sturmbannführer off,

"Where is she? Where is Shosanna and what have you done to her?"

Dieter was losing his patience with him,

"Oberschütze Zoller, have you not listened to a word I have said? I am willing to attribute your outbursts to the folly of youth, as you are but still a boy, but you must now think of your career - "

Fredrick was louder now,

"I do not care, Sturmbannführer Hellstrom. Where is Shosanna?"

Disgust was now overtaking Dieter as his frustration with Fredrick increased.

"Are you telling me that you still care for her? A Jew?"

Taking a breath, Fredrick stood taller and nodded.

"Yes. I am."

Dieter's expression darkened and he closed the gap between them, whispering into the younger man's ear,

"Your wretched beloved is bleeding to death right at this moment."

He then stepped away from Fredrick, smiling widely.

"She said not a word and did not even cry, even when I shot her. It was almost admirable."

Dieter did not and could not anticipate Fredrick's reaction as the younger man reared back his fist and socked the Sturmbannführer in the mouth. Hard. Before Dieter could properly react, Fredrick grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and slammed him down onto the hood of the sedan. Hermann, the only witness to this confrontation, was frozen in place with shock. Fredrick did not stop his assault and he continued to rain blows down upon Dieter's face and torso. In response, Hellstrom laughed; Dieter was mocking him. Desperate, Fredrick clung tighter to Hellstrom's coat, searching the man's eyes for something resembling compassion, but finding none. Through clenched teeth, Fredrick demanded,

"Where is Shosanna?"

Dieter's serpentine smile, now marred with blood, was made all the more disturbing. Without a word, he motioned with his head to the inn. Satisfied with this response, Fredrick pushed Dieter back down onto the hood and ran off into the direction indicated, with Dieter screaming at his back,

"You have no idea what you're doing, Fredrick! We will all turn against you! You forget how rapidly love turns to hate! You will have no one to turn to! Nowhere to go!"

His body ached and he could feel the bruises and welts forming on his face, yet Dieter remained the consummate professional. Standing up straight, Dieter spit the blood in his mouth out into the street and he adjusted his uniform and put his cap back in place. Hermann was absolutely bewildered.

"Sturmbannführer Hellstrom, what now?"

With a sigh, Dieter answered him,

"Hermann, none of this concerns you; if it did, you would be of a higher rank. Standartenführer Landa is not an unreasonable man. Yes, some of my actions were regrettable, but he will understand. I will simply explain the circumstances and we will come up with a solution."

Dieter then pulled out his Walther and headed for the inn.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to perform the first and only act of mercy in my life."

~

Using all of his bodyweight, Fredrick charged his way through the inn's entrance and scanning the lobby, he found her. Shosanna lay on the floor, curled into herself and bleeding profusely from her abdomen. He wanted to call out to her, but his voice came out hushed.

"Shosanna."

Possibilities ran through his mind as he made his way to her, for Fredrick still retained a sliver of hope.

Perhaps she can still be saved. We could go away somewhere together. There is still a chance...

Wrapped up in his thoughts as he knelt beside her, Fredrick did not hear Dieter in the doorway, nor did he hear when the Sturmbannführer cocked the hammer on his pistol. And when Fredrick heard the gunshots, it was too late, as searing pain tore through his right shoulder and side. Crying out, Fredrick collapsed onto the floor next to Shosanna. Dieter grimaced as he looked over the bloodied, would-be lovers, and with a sigh, he turned away, closing the door behind him.

~

"I am so sorry, Shosanna," Fredrick murmured against her skin, "I - I did not know. Shosanna…"

In response, she tenderly caressed his cheek.

Words were not sufficient, but their actions spoke volumes. Their time together was finite and so they treasured every second of it in silence.

Sliding her hands down to his chest, Shosanna fisted them into the wool material of Fredrick's uniform, urging him to hold her closer. Even though it hurt them both, he did so; burying his face in her hair as he cradled her broken body against his. As Fredrick felt Shosanna slip away, he thought of all they could have been, all that they could have had. He then nuzzled her neck, touched her face, and pressed his lips against her forehead. In return, Shosanna was able to give Fredrick a small smile one last time.

Heartbroken, he died shortly after her, but not before taking comfort in the fact that in their last moments together, their love was realized; together, they would have in death what life had denied them.