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H/C bingo: Bodyswap (Biggles)
Finishing up my h/c bingo card's last three squares with some shorter ficlets!
This is for the "bodyswap" prompt, THANK YOU to the commenters in the last h/c bingo post for giving me a prompt for this that I could finally work with!
Biggles, Biggles & EvS, 800 words under the cut. Also on Tumblr.
Biggles was pacing restlessly in the cell when the guards came back, half dragging and half carrying von Stalhein. After sternly motioning Biggles to the back of the cell with their guns, they threw von Stalhein through the door and locked it again.
Von Stalhein was not entirely unconscious, as it turned out. He tried to catch himself, went down flat, struggled to get to his hands and knees, and fell again.
Biggles crouched next to him, unsure how to help. All thoughts of enmity or worry that von Stalhein might betray him were forgotten. Biggles had genuinely been unsure until now if there was a possibility that von Stalhein was still working with them, but there was no question of it after what he had just seen. Von Stalhein's suit was splattered with blood and filth, and in the dim light of the cell, Biggles saw blood on his face.
"What did they do to you?" he asked, appalled, as von Stalhein tried to rise and fell again. Biggles reached to help him, but was shoved viciously away. He couldn't stop thinking about the bodies in the facility upstairs, and the machines whose purpose he did not know.
"Stay back," von Stalhein snarled hoarsely. He managed to get up at last, stumbled to a corner of the cell, and was sick.
Biggles went to the bucket of water that had been provided earlier and dipped the tin cup into it. He tore off a strip of his shirt, dampened it in the water, and went to where von Stalhein had crawled to a cleaner part of the cell and was sitting with his back against the wall.
"Here," Biggles said quietly, handing him the cup. "It will help a little."
Von Stalhein gave him a weary, unreadable look, rinsed his mouth and drank a little. The blood on his face seemed to be coming from his temples, where there was a dark blotch on each side that had soaked into his hair. Biggles recalled with an inward shudder the apparatus upstairs, the helmets and the dried blood.
Biggles wordlessly offered him the damp cloth. Von Stalhein took it, wincing, and dabbed at his face. Biggles sat beside him.
"What are they doing up there?" he asked. "You wouldn't tell me earlier."
Von Stalhein gave him a weary glance, leaning his head against the wall. He folded the cloth to a cleaner bit and dabbed in a gingerly way at his temple.
"It sounds insane enough, talking about it, that I didn't think you'd believe me," he said at last. "They think they can transfer the—mind, the consciousness, if you will, from one body to another."
"That's what they were trying to do to you?"
Von Stalhein nodded and grimaced. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall.
"I assume it didn't work," Biggles said.
The clear blue-grey eyes cracked open. "Not as such," von Stalhein said. He hesitated. "But there was—I could almost ..." He paused. Biggles waited, and he went on, a rush of words.
"They hooked me up to the machine along with another fellow. He was in bad shape, had obviously been through this before. Delirious, hardly seemed to know where he was. When they turned it on, it—" He stopped. "It was unpleasant, but for the physical discomfort, I've had worse. There was a moment, though, when I thought I felt ... something, someone screaming in the back of my mind. It was like nothing I've ever experienced before. I would take a hundred tortures over that feeling. I remember little else after that, but I came back to myself as I was being dragged out of the machine and brought back here. I suppose you saw the rest."
He looked away.
"And the other fellow?" Biggles asked quietly.
"Dead. He was on the floor when they took me out of the machine. It appears that repeat performances don't agree with a person." Von Stalhein closed his eyes again, leaning his head wearily against the wall. "If you have any ideas for escape, by the way, now would be an excellent time."
"I might," Biggles said after a moment. "Do you think you can pretend that it worked?"
Von Stalhein's eyes snapped open and he sat up, overpowering his body's weakness through sheer outrage. "Excuse me?"
"Who was the other fellow, do you know?"
"I don't, but ... I did heard them say his name. I suppose I could—no, I can't believe I'm considering it. Bigglesworth, even for you, this is a ludicrous plan."
"It only has to get us through the door," Biggles pointed out. "And there's more to it than that. Do you want to hear it, or just tell me that it won't work?"
There was a slight smile on von Stalhein's pale face. "Oh, you may as well tell me." He sat forward and dabbed at his temple again. "It's about time that your infernal luck worked for me rather than against me."
This is for the "bodyswap" prompt, THANK YOU to the commenters in the last h/c bingo post for giving me a prompt for this that I could finally work with!
Biggles, Biggles & EvS, 800 words under the cut. Also on Tumblr.
Biggles was pacing restlessly in the cell when the guards came back, half dragging and half carrying von Stalhein. After sternly motioning Biggles to the back of the cell with their guns, they threw von Stalhein through the door and locked it again.
Von Stalhein was not entirely unconscious, as it turned out. He tried to catch himself, went down flat, struggled to get to his hands and knees, and fell again.
Biggles crouched next to him, unsure how to help. All thoughts of enmity or worry that von Stalhein might betray him were forgotten. Biggles had genuinely been unsure until now if there was a possibility that von Stalhein was still working with them, but there was no question of it after what he had just seen. Von Stalhein's suit was splattered with blood and filth, and in the dim light of the cell, Biggles saw blood on his face.
"What did they do to you?" he asked, appalled, as von Stalhein tried to rise and fell again. Biggles reached to help him, but was shoved viciously away. He couldn't stop thinking about the bodies in the facility upstairs, and the machines whose purpose he did not know.
"Stay back," von Stalhein snarled hoarsely. He managed to get up at last, stumbled to a corner of the cell, and was sick.
Biggles went to the bucket of water that had been provided earlier and dipped the tin cup into it. He tore off a strip of his shirt, dampened it in the water, and went to where von Stalhein had crawled to a cleaner part of the cell and was sitting with his back against the wall.
"Here," Biggles said quietly, handing him the cup. "It will help a little."
Von Stalhein gave him a weary, unreadable look, rinsed his mouth and drank a little. The blood on his face seemed to be coming from his temples, where there was a dark blotch on each side that had soaked into his hair. Biggles recalled with an inward shudder the apparatus upstairs, the helmets and the dried blood.
Biggles wordlessly offered him the damp cloth. Von Stalhein took it, wincing, and dabbed at his face. Biggles sat beside him.
"What are they doing up there?" he asked. "You wouldn't tell me earlier."
Von Stalhein gave him a weary glance, leaning his head against the wall. He folded the cloth to a cleaner bit and dabbed in a gingerly way at his temple.
"It sounds insane enough, talking about it, that I didn't think you'd believe me," he said at last. "They think they can transfer the—mind, the consciousness, if you will, from one body to another."
"That's what they were trying to do to you?"
Von Stalhein nodded and grimaced. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall.
"I assume it didn't work," Biggles said.
The clear blue-grey eyes cracked open. "Not as such," von Stalhein said. He hesitated. "But there was—I could almost ..." He paused. Biggles waited, and he went on, a rush of words.
"They hooked me up to the machine along with another fellow. He was in bad shape, had obviously been through this before. Delirious, hardly seemed to know where he was. When they turned it on, it—" He stopped. "It was unpleasant, but for the physical discomfort, I've had worse. There was a moment, though, when I thought I felt ... something, someone screaming in the back of my mind. It was like nothing I've ever experienced before. I would take a hundred tortures over that feeling. I remember little else after that, but I came back to myself as I was being dragged out of the machine and brought back here. I suppose you saw the rest."
He looked away.
"And the other fellow?" Biggles asked quietly.
"Dead. He was on the floor when they took me out of the machine. It appears that repeat performances don't agree with a person." Von Stalhein closed his eyes again, leaning his head wearily against the wall. "If you have any ideas for escape, by the way, now would be an excellent time."
"I might," Biggles said after a moment. "Do you think you can pretend that it worked?"
Von Stalhein's eyes snapped open and he sat up, overpowering his body's weakness through sheer outrage. "Excuse me?"
"Who was the other fellow, do you know?"
"I don't, but ... I did heard them say his name. I suppose I could—no, I can't believe I'm considering it. Bigglesworth, even for you, this is a ludicrous plan."
"It only has to get us through the door," Biggles pointed out. "And there's more to it than that. Do you want to hear it, or just tell me that it won't work?"
There was a slight smile on von Stalhein's pale face. "Oh, you may as well tell me." He sat forward and dabbed at his temple again. "It's about time that your infernal luck worked for me rather than against me."
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"It's about time that your infernal luck worked for me rather than against me."
I love how this suggests a future cooperation and an escape together!
This is great and extremely relevant to my interests ♥
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Naturally they'll cooperate in an escape!
Thank you again for the GLORIOUS inspiration.
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When they turned it on, it—" He stopped. "It was unpleasant, but for the physical discomfort, I've had worse.
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And of course Biggles's plan will work! They always do, even if all it does is get them out of the cell and buy enough time for Algy, Ginger and Bertie to arrive explosively :-D
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Pretending to be fake-bodyswapped seems right in von Stalhein's skill set, even if he's not at the top of his game right now.