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Whumptober #24: Goodbye Note (Biggles)
I realize it's not the 24th, but I go where inspiration takes me.
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No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”
Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”
"I volunteer to kick his door in."
"It won't be necessary," Biggles said, and Algy lowered his foot with disappointment. He watched as Biggles took a key from his pocket, hesitated very briefly, then unlocked von Stalhein's door.
"How long have you had his key?"
Biggles only shook his head and opened the door. Algy slipped his hand into his pocket, resting it on his pistol. The room had a stale air of abandonment, but he was taking no chances.
Algy could count on the fingers of one hand the times he'd been in von Stalhein's flat, with fingers left over. It was, as always, so tidy that it bordered on the unhealthy. The place might as well have been a hotel room, sterile and impersonal.
Except—as Biggles moved through the flat, swift and efficient, touching nothing, looking at everything—Algy was forced to notice and acknowledge all the little indications where the possibly-former resident had impressed his personality on the place. The shelves of books, the colorful rug before the hearth, some small artworks, a nice gold pen holder on the desk. In the kitchen, Algy noted the presence of a flowered teapot that looked suspiciously like the good one from the Mount Street flat (they never used it, preferring the much more practical, larger, borderline indestructible everyday one) which had gone missing some months back.
Algy left the kitchen, breaking off a long suspicious stare at the teapot, when Biggles made a soft sound, a hiss of breath, from the sitting room. Biggles was at von Stalhein's desk. Algy came over to find what he was staring at.
Some items had been shifted, revealing an envelope with Biggles's name on it, written in a precise hand.
"That his handwriting?"
Biggles gave a slight nod. He hesitated again, then swiftly slit the seal with his thumbnail. There was a single folded sheet of paper inside. Algy shamelessly read over his shoulder.
By the time you read this, I will be gone. Don't search for me. Leave the past in the past. I seek my fortunes elsewhere. England was never meant to be my home for long.
E. von Stalhein
Biggles stared at it for a long moment. Algy, bracing himself, prepared words of comfort now that the inevitable had happened. Then Biggles said, "He wrote this under duress."
Algy's words of comfort very nearly slipped out and he made a spent-teakettle noise instead. Then he said, "Really? Are you delirious?"
Not very comforting. Bertie or Ginger would be stomping on his foot already.
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No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”
Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”
"I volunteer to kick his door in."
"It won't be necessary," Biggles said, and Algy lowered his foot with disappointment. He watched as Biggles took a key from his pocket, hesitated very briefly, then unlocked von Stalhein's door.
"How long have you had his key?"
Biggles only shook his head and opened the door. Algy slipped his hand into his pocket, resting it on his pistol. The room had a stale air of abandonment, but he was taking no chances.
Algy could count on the fingers of one hand the times he'd been in von Stalhein's flat, with fingers left over. It was, as always, so tidy that it bordered on the unhealthy. The place might as well have been a hotel room, sterile and impersonal.
Except—as Biggles moved through the flat, swift and efficient, touching nothing, looking at everything—Algy was forced to notice and acknowledge all the little indications where the possibly-former resident had impressed his personality on the place. The shelves of books, the colorful rug before the hearth, some small artworks, a nice gold pen holder on the desk. In the kitchen, Algy noted the presence of a flowered teapot that looked suspiciously like the good one from the Mount Street flat (they never used it, preferring the much more practical, larger, borderline indestructible everyday one) which had gone missing some months back.
Algy left the kitchen, breaking off a long suspicious stare at the teapot, when Biggles made a soft sound, a hiss of breath, from the sitting room. Biggles was at von Stalhein's desk. Algy came over to find what he was staring at.
Some items had been shifted, revealing an envelope with Biggles's name on it, written in a precise hand.
"That his handwriting?"
Biggles gave a slight nod. He hesitated again, then swiftly slit the seal with his thumbnail. There was a single folded sheet of paper inside. Algy shamelessly read over his shoulder.
By the time you read this, I will be gone. Don't search for me. Leave the past in the past. I seek my fortunes elsewhere. England was never meant to be my home for long.
E. von Stalhein
Biggles stared at it for a long moment. Algy, bracing himself, prepared words of comfort now that the inevitable had happened. Then Biggles said, "He wrote this under duress."
Algy's words of comfort very nearly slipped out and he made a spent-teakettle noise instead. Then he said, "Really? Are you delirious?"
Not very comforting. Bertie or Ginger would be stomping on his foot already.
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At this point if Erich did disappear, Algy would be upset because he'll have to deal with it XD
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I realize that whole entire fics of Algy rescuing Erich so Biggles Won't Be Sad already exist, but I need like 100K of it.