Pairing ; Moritz/Ilse (John Gallagher Jr.'s Moritz & Lauren Pritchard's Ilse – as always ;D)

Rating ; M

Disclaimer ; Wedekind/Sheik/Sater own everything. Including my soul ;)

Summary ; "You know I'll let you in…" When everything falls apart – she runs to him. Moritz/Ilse, R/R :D

A/N: Let's just pretend that this takes place in a magical alternate universe where Moritz never tried to/succeeded in killing himself. Okay? Good.

A/N Pt. 2 ; In this, Moritz is a bit OOC, but I don't think it's that big of a deal. I hope it doesn't bother anyone or something.

I'll Let You In

"You wonder where you're goin' next,

You've got your head pushed to my chest –

And now you're hoping that someone lets you in –

Well, I swear I'll let you in.

You know I'll let you in…"

- "Kelsey" ; Metro Station

The knocking itself wasn't strange – the weather outside was the oddest attributing factor. That was the part that got him.

It was pouring rain – storming – and yet someone was at the door…

Who goes out in weather like this?

Thinking that it must be Melchior, Moritz went downstairs and pulled open the door. Only it wasn't Melchi…

It was Ilse.

She stood on the doorstep, soaking wet and shivering, wearing nothing but a plaid shirt as a dress. Her arms were wrapped around her chest – as she tried, in vain, to warm herself.

"C-can I c-come in?" She asked, her teeth chattering so much it was amazing she could get the words out.

He was completely stunned, but answered immediately: "O-of course." He said, bewildered, stepping aside. He closed the door behind her.

Moritz wasn't sure what to do, but decided that the first order of business should be to get her warmed up. So, he reached out to take her icy cold hand in his and led her upstairs to his room. Once there, Ilse questioned him: "W-where are your p-parents?"

"They're out of town – they'll be back tomorrow evening." He replied, before turning to take a good look at her.

When he saw her, he was shocked.

Her shirt – in addition to being drenched – was torn in some places. He could see she wasn't wearing shoes, and that her feet were cut and bleeding. There were scratches all over her arms and legs. And the worst part: A large, purple-black bruise was blossoming around her left eye.

She looked like Hell.

Moritz felt concern flood every pore of his body, "Ilse, what happened to you?"

At these words, she began to cry – not crying like 'I fell down in the park and scraped my knee'… The way Ilse was crying… He knew it was bad. It was all he could do not to start crying as well.

Not knowing what else to do, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, letting her sob into his shoulder. Broken words escaped her mouth – her voice muffled: "Moritz – I-I couldn't… tried… It h-hurts… M-Moritz…"

He quieted her, and motioned for her to sit down on his bed. Once she did, he went to the closet and got out a large blanket and one of his sweaters.

He handed her the sweater, "Put this on – you need to get out of that wet shirt."

She looked un-sure at first, but nodded, sniffling still – and he turned around while she changed into it.

Once that was done, he took the blanket and wrapped it around her tightly. As she looked up at him gratefully, he sat down beside her.

"Ilse…" He kept his voice calm, even though he was worried beyond belief, "What happened?"

She shook her head, two fresh tears spilling out of her eyes. "No… I-I can't…"

Moritz put an arm around her, gently, "Ilse – it's me. You know I won't judge you, right?" She nodded. "I want to help, but you have to talk to me first. So, tell me who did this to you."

Ilse stared at him for a moment, before closing her eyes and leaning forward to rest her head on his shoulder. "I-I've been staying with this… man… An artist… for about a m-month, a-and…" She took a deep breath, "Every morning, I'm supposed to h-have his breakfast r-ready for him before he wakes up…"

Moritz ran his fingers through her long hair, soothing her. "Go on – it's okay." He assured her, though he was dreading what she was going to say next.

"Well… This morning, he… he w-woke up earlier than usual, and I…" She was shaking with the effort to control her sobs, and he tightened his hold around her. "I hadn't m-made his breakfast yet, and… he… He g-got angry… L-lost his t-temper…" She straightened up, pulling away from him, "He… b-beat me, and ch-chased me out of his p-place… I've been r-running all day – through the w-woods… It was so h-horrible, Moritz, and I-I didn't know where to g-go, s-so I… I came here…. To f-find you –"

Moritz cut her off and pulled her to him – wrapping his arms around her. This time, she let it all out, her face buried in his chest. Her whole body shook, but he didn't let go. How could he? Ilse needed him – he had to do something to make her feel better. But he had never done this before… Not for anybody. When people were in trouble, they didn't come to him for help. Moritz was never the one people wanted…. But Ilse was different; She did want him, and she was here, right now, asking him for sympathy and comfort… He had to try to fix her. So, he held her close – rubbing her back – while she cried. And he murmured things to her; Things that he hoped would calm her, "I'm sorry, Ilse… I'm so sorry… Shhh… Don't cry – it's alright… Please, don't cry…"

He felt her arms go around his middle, as she sobbed into his shirt. It seemed like his heart broke with every gasp or sniffle that he heard from her – he couldn't bear to see her in so much pain…

After a few more minutes of him cradling her while she calmed herself down, she slowly sat up, wiping her face on the sleeve of his sweater. When she turned to look at him, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she spoke, "M-Moritz?" He nodded and she continued: "I know I sh-shouldn't ask – but… Would it be t-too much trouble if I… Could I st-stay here with you? Just… Just for tonight? I w-wouldn't ask – but I have n-no where else to go, and-"

He stopped her mid-sentence, "Ilse – don't worry. Of course you can stay here. Stay for as long as you need. You're always welcome."

At that, she smiled a genuine smile, "Thank you."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

About two hours later, Ilse was lying under the covers, in Moritz's bed, and Moritz was on the floor beside it, with a blanket and pillow.

"Moritz, you don't have to sleep down there – really." She said, from her place above him.

He had, of course, let her have the bed – and was perfectly content with the idea of sleeping on the floor. She peered over the side of the mattress at him, and he shook his head.

"No, it's okay. You need more rest that I do – you're hurt. I'm alright."

"But, Moritz," She protested, "I don't mind. You can sleep up here, too… It's your bed, after all."

He considered, but remained defiant: "Ilse, it's okay. I'm staying down here."

But she persisted, naturally. "There's plenty of room…"

"Nope. I'm down here, you're up there. That's it. Go to sleep." At that, he closed his eyes.

Seconds later, however, she let out a huff of breath. "Fine then."

He heard movement, and opened his eyes to see her climbing out of the bed.
"What are you doing?" He asked – but he wasn't confused for long.

Ilse moved around the bed to where he was on the floor, and came forward to lay down next to him. He didn't know what to say… She rolled over so she was on her side, facing him, and grinned, "If you won't come up, I'll come down."

He smiled, in spite of himself, "You are so stubborn."

She stared at him for about two more minutes, her eyebrows raised slightly, before he gave in: "Fine." He said, standing up. "But only because the floor is uncomfortable and I want you to feel better rather than worse."

She nodded, a smug smile on her face, and rose to crawl back into his bed, scooting over to make room for him. He sighed, before getting in beside her. Ilse snuggled up to him under the covers, and he put his arms around her, closing his eyes again.

"Moritz?" Ilse breathed, breaking the silence once again.
"Hmm?"

She lifted her head to look at him, "I don't mean to sound… forward – but… We're both in bed, and…" An almost devilish grin came across her face, "I'm not at all tired."

This time, he sighed in frustration, "Ilse – no. We just… I just… We can't. You're hurt, you need sleep and I… I can't."

"Why not?" She questioned, leaning close to kiss him. The familiar feeling of her lips on his wiped all thought from his mind. He tried his hardest to remember why he had been refusing her, but couldn't seem to. It was all blown away by her kiss.

When she moved her attention to his neck, he murmured, "Ilse… We really shouldn't-"

"Stop saying why we shouldn't and just… go with it." She whispered, sucking on his pulse-point and making him shiver.

"But-," He was starting to feel like an idiot – why did he insist on fighting it? "But I… And you… And -!"

She stopped what she was doing and put her hands on either side of his face, looking him right in the eyes: "Moritz Stiefel, if you don't stop arguing with me, I'm going to lose my mind. Honestly! What's the matter?" Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were confused.

He shrugged, uncertain what the matter was himself… He loved Ilse, and she was the one who had suggested this… What was there to say 'no' to? "Nothing's wrong. I'm sorry."

Ilse nodded, slowly. "So, you're alright with this? Really?"

Moritz took a second to look at her face – which was gorgeous even with the bruise around her eye – and replied the best way he knew how: By pulling her to him and kissing her. He felt her smile against his lips and acknowledged the sensation of warmth spreading through his body; Happiness.

Ilse wasted no time in un-buttoning his sleep-shirt and getting it off of him. He liked the way she was during sex; Very in-control and powerful. Even when she was battered and beaten, she found strength. But, he knew that this time was different – she was hurt and fragile. He had to be careful with her. "Ilse?" He asked, "Maybe you should let me… You're hurt and…"

She looked at him, and blinked, seeming to understand. She nodded and let him switch places with her – so she was underneath him. He hovered over her, and she smiled at him. Moritz reached down to pull the sweater she was wearing up – as gently as he could – and she raised her arms so he could get it off. He hadn't realized that she wasn't wearing any undergarments and she blushed, as he looked at her body. "I know I'm not beautiful – that bastard I was living with…. He-"

Moritz saw.

All up and down her torso, she had bruises. Some of them looked pretty old, some recent. The sight of them made his heart scream. "You are beautiful." He told her, leaning close to kiss her black eye, gently. "You'll always be beautiful – no matter what any guy does to you."

She flushed pink, and smiled appreciatively. His hand stroked its way up her body – brushing over the bruises as lightly as possible – and she closed her eyes. One of her hands went to the back of his neck and she pulled him into another kiss.

His lips moved downward, as her fingers tangled in his hair, and she gasped at the sensation of his tongue swirling across her nipple.

"Oh…" She moaned, while he sucked on her breast, "Please… Just take me…"

He was glad she said this, because he didn't think he could wait any longer. As he came back up to kiss her, he felt her hands snake their way down his back, to push his pajama pants down. After that, she brought her hands back up to his face and stroked his cheek.

Moritz slowly slid into Ilse, trying to be careful with her, and she sighed in relief at the familiar feeling. "Mmmm… Moritz…"

His emotions swelled at the sound of his name on her lips. As he began to move in and out of her, he felt her hands on his back – her nails digging into his skin. She brought his face to hers and kissed him, whispering words into his mouth. He kissed her back with as much passion as he could muster – he had never felt this way about anyone in his life. The love he had for Ilse was unlike anything he'd ever known. He loved everything about her, and wanted to be with her all the time… To hold her all the time.

She breathed into his ear, "Harder… Please, Moritz…"

He complied as best as he could; Pushing himself even harder into Ilse, making her gasp louder each time. She held him to her, her arms around his neck now, and he kissed her desperately, his love for her consuming him.

Ilse yelped as his thrusts became faster and more urgent – throwing her head back on the pillow and moaning. She clung to Moritz, feeling so good she could cry, and waited for the moment when they would fall off the edge together. It came quickly: Moritz groaned, burying his face in Ilse's hair, and she held him, tears forming in her eyes.

When he heard her sniffling, he looked up, alarmed. "Ilse? Are you…" The concern in his eyes only made her cry harder, "Did I… hurt you?"

As he rolled off of her, she rested her cheek on the pillow and let the tears fall, while he stroked her face, gently. "Please… tell me what's wrong. I can't stand to see you cry… Was it something I did?"

Ilse shook her head, vigorously, "N-No… M-Moritz, you didn't do anything wrong… I-I'm sorry… I d-don't know w-why I'm crying…"

But she did know why.

She was crying, because all of the emotions running through her body were threatening to take over her. She couldn't keep them all straight anymore.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, and looked him in the eyes. "I…" She forced herself to say it – she was tired of being scared. "I… love you."

Moritz smiled his goofy, adorable smile, and whispered, "I love you too."

And, with those four small words, she began to cry again – but this time, she was crying because she was happy. Happier than she could ever remember being. Moritz pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her small body, and kissed away all of the hurt inside. He murmured words of comfort and love in her ear and combed his fingers through her hair. Everything he did made a little more of the pain go away – until she couldn't feel anything but warmth.

Lying in bed – in Moritz's embrace – Ilse felt completely at bay, because she knew that, no matter what was going on or what she was feeling, she could come to him, and he would accept her. He would love her and fix her.

And she would – always – love him right back.

A/N: I'm not sure how I feel about this one… I loved writing Moritz/Ilse again – they're so cute – but I don't know if I like how this idea turned out… The idea for this story just kind of popped into my head one day – and I originally wasn't going to flesh it out, because I lost interest for a while, but now I did write the rest of it and I'm not all that satisfied… hmmm…

Well, maybe you guys will think differently, so if you liked this, please leave me a review telling me so :D