As per to the request and pleas of several fans, I've acquiesced and I present to you a different sequel to Goodnight, My Love. Enjoy!

The year was 1955. World War II ended ten years ago but the effects of that horrid time period still ravaged the world, especially the now-disgraced Germany. Countless of lives had been lost and many families had been torn apart and destroyed. Members of the Nazi Party were still being sought out and tried for the crimes they had committed. Thomas Berger was not one of them.

The former Swing Kid and reformed ex-member of the Hitlerjugend had successfully escaped the vicious clutches of the mad-man Adolf Hitler on the same night he had betrayed his friend and the love of his life. In the confusion of rounding up the 'criminals' at Bismarck, Thomas slipped away into the night and hid in the shadows, listening intently for any sign that he had been caught. After several long and worrisome hours, he still had not been discovered. Relieved, he allowed all the pent-up rage and frustration to flood his body and his senses. He tore off his uniform and sobbed at the horrors he had done. He had betrayed his family, his friends, his country, himself, and his love.

From that moment on, Thomas Berger was no more. He made a new identity for himself and he swore that he would make up for the things he had done. He would seek redemption, even if it killed him, and he would find out what happened to Peter Müller after he had been taken away to the war camps. For years Thomas wandered around Germany and fought against the Nazis. He had met many people along the way and been to many places but he had not heard anything about Peter.

When the war ended, he had gone to Buchenwald, Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen, and many other concentrations camps looking for Peter but to no avail. He wasn't there. Devastated and trying not to give up hope, Thomas kept searching. Peter could not be dead. Peter just could not die. No. No. Nonono. NO!

He refused to believe that Peter had died. Peter Müller was strong, even as a youth. He was a survivor and Thomas refused to believe otherwise. But ten years had gone by and there was still no sign of his boyhood companion and his teenage love. It was time to admit to himself that he had sentenced Peter to death that night at the Bismarck. He could have loved him and he could have been with him all these years had he only made the right decision. Instead, Thomas became the Judas to Peter's Jesus. He had sold Peter out for power and he had paid the ultimate price.

Sighing wearily and holding back a fresh wave of tears that threatened to spill down his face, Thomas walked down the gloomy streets of Hamburg that still reeked of despair and devastation. He avoided making eye contact with anyone. He didn't fear that anyone would recognize him. He just didn't want to see Peter behind every smile and passing glance. He just wanted to visit the decrepit building that once was the Bismarck. That beautiful place was now just a memory of his sad past. Every once in a while he would go there, always at night, and remember all the good and bad times. He did not subscribe to the church or religious beliefs but whenever he was at the Bismarck, he would pray for Peter.

The street was mostly empty now which suited the solemn man. Lost in his thoughts now, he rounded the corner and found himself staring at his old sanctuary. He didn't notice the person standing beside him. They both just stared at the broken down edifice. Thomas didn't become aware of his surroundings until he heard the person beside him humming a familiar tune. He tilted his head to the side and listened carefully, identifying the song to be Bei Mir Bist Du Schön. He hadn't heard that song in years. Not since that night…

The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he slowly turned his head to look at his companion. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of his stomach and his heart momentarily stopped beating. The man beside him felt Thomas's stare and he also turned to look at him, smiling lightly.

Peter.

Peter Müller.

Peter Müller was standing beside him.

He was definitely older and he had the aura of someone who had stared straight into the depths Hell and survived. Ever after all these and years and who-knows-how-many horrors he had faced, Peter was still beautiful.

Thomas turned fully towards Peter and took a step back, gasping and holding onto his chest, afraid that his heart would burst out.

"Hello, Thomas."

Blood pounded in Thomas's ears and his mouth dropped.

"P-Peter…"

Both men stood there, staring at each other and eyeing all the changes that the years had bestowed on them.

"H-how…? What…? I-…"

Thomas swallowed thickly, unable to get his words out. Peter shook his head and smiled sadly. He held out his arms as an invitation, which Thomas gladly took. The moment that Peter's arms encircled his neck, years and years of emotions rose to the surface and he finally broke. Thomas clutched onto Peter for dear life, sobbing into the collar of his Peter's coat and repeating over and over how sorry he was.

Peter rubbed his back in soothing circles and allowed his friend to release the demons that haunted him.

They remained in their embrace for several long minutes. Neither cared if anyone witnessed their moment and no one did. Moonlight illuminated the empty streets and the stars twinkled in delight over their reunion. The men reluctantly separated but didn't let go on each other in case one of them disappeared. Tears continued to roll down Thomas's cheeks and Peter lightly brushed them away with his thumb. His finger inadvertently caressed Thomas's lips, causing the man's breath to hitch in his chest. Both froze and looked deep into each other's eyes, trying to read and interpret the similar emotion they found there.

Their heads moved slowly towards each other. Both seemed scared and apprehensive of each other and they stopped a breath's width away. Time froze and waited for someone to take the first step. Thomas's heart pounded in his chest and his eyes fluttered shut as Peter's lips gently touched his in a butterfly kiss. Breaking for the second time that day, he wrapped his arms around Peter's neck and deepened the kiss, pouring all his love and longing and sorrow. Thomas felt Peter's arms wraps around his waist and pull him closer.

He couldn't believe that this moment had finally come. After all the years and all the searching, he fantasized about the moment he would find his liebling*, but he never believed the day would actually come. The ever-watchful moon that had once witnessed their separation now witnessed their unification.

The men broke the kiss. Their foreheads rested against each other as they stared into one another's eyes, gasping for breath. Neither said anything because nothing needed to be said. With every breath they took, the past drifted away from them and now they could both look towards the future; a future they would spend together and no force in this world or otherwise would change that.

From a nearby window, a beautiful but sad voice surrounded the couple.

Goodnight, my love…the tired, old moon is descending.

The music washed over them; stilling their racing hearts and bringing them closer together.

Goodnight, my love. My moment with you now is ending.

"No," Peter whispered, breaking the enchantment of the moment. Thomas's heart filled with dread at what that word might entail.

"It's not 'Goodnight, My Love' anymore. It shall now be, 'Hello, My Love'."

Peter smiled lovingly at him, causing Thomas's soul to soar up into the heavens.

"Yes," Thomas agreed. His voice was thick with emotion. "Hello, my love…"

Entwining their hands together, they turned away from the Bismarck and walked softly into the night, together at last.

Liebling: sweetheart, love, darling.