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Febuwhump day 10: Killing in Self Defence
Master list here.
Day 10: killing in self defence
Biggles & Fritz, missing scene for Buries a Hatchet, 580 wds
The cabin of the Otter was dark, all those who weren't on watch curled in blankets and sleeping. Even von Stalhein had wrapped up in a blanket in the back, asleep or doing a good job of faking it.
Biggles sat up with Algy in the cockpit for a little while, until Algy made it clear that Biggles, who was supposed to fly in the morning, ought to get some sleep of his own. Rising quietly, he went into the back and paused, catching sight of someone sitting on the edge of the seat nearest the door. It was Fritz, Biggles identified him at a glance, the slight figure and the glaze of his blond hair in the dim light from the cockpit. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and was gazing out the window, although there was nothing to see, only the dark and the storm.
Biggles went quietly over to sit by him. Fritz glanced at him, gave him a wan smile, but didn't speak.
"Would you like tea?" Biggles asked softly. "Algy's on watch, I was just going to make some for him."
Fritz nodded slightly.
Biggles knelt and made tea on the Primus stove. By now, this was second nature, a swift and practiced activity that needed little thought. He placed a hot mug into Fritz's hands.
As if the touch had jarred something loose, Fritz said abruptly, "I killed that man." He spoke in German. Flushing a little, he switched to English. "At the coal workings. When -- when he was --"
"I know," Biggles said quietly. "He may well have killed me, or given an alarm. You did what needed to be done."
"I understand that," Fritz said. He blinked and looked away. "I know it -- but --"
He was shivering a little. Biggles put a hand on his arm. Fritz took one hand off the mug of tea to rub his eyes wearily.
"Don't speak of this to Uncle, please," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He has done so many brave things, this is nothing for him. I'll be all right in a minute."
"It is never 'nothing' the first time," Biggles said quietly. "It was easier for me, perhaps, because I couldn't see their faces." It was so long ago now that he could barely remember what it had felt like the first time; all those memories ran together somewhat. But the shaking, slumped exhaustion, the absence of any clear feeling he could identify, after he had made a kill in a dogfight was something he remembered very well.
With his hand still on Fritz's shoulder, he went on. "But if I had it to do over again, I should do the same thing, for the lives of myself and my squadron were at stake. You'd do the same thing again too, I expect?"
"Yes, of course." Fritz yawned and rubbed his eyes again. Talking seemed to have relieved him of some of his burden, and weariness from the day's activities was catching up with him now.
Biggles patted his shoulder and got up to deliver a flask of tea to Algy in the cockpit. When he came back, Fritz was all but asleep in his seat. Biggles relieved him of the mug of tea which showed signs of falling to the floor, then urged him up and steered him to an empty space among the sleepers. Fritz curled up and dropped off almost before Biggles had finished draping the blanket over him.
Day 10: killing in self defence
Biggles & Fritz, missing scene for Buries a Hatchet, 580 wds
The cabin of the Otter was dark, all those who weren't on watch curled in blankets and sleeping. Even von Stalhein had wrapped up in a blanket in the back, asleep or doing a good job of faking it.
Biggles sat up with Algy in the cockpit for a little while, until Algy made it clear that Biggles, who was supposed to fly in the morning, ought to get some sleep of his own. Rising quietly, he went into the back and paused, catching sight of someone sitting on the edge of the seat nearest the door. It was Fritz, Biggles identified him at a glance, the slight figure and the glaze of his blond hair in the dim light from the cockpit. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and was gazing out the window, although there was nothing to see, only the dark and the storm.
Biggles went quietly over to sit by him. Fritz glanced at him, gave him a wan smile, but didn't speak.
"Would you like tea?" Biggles asked softly. "Algy's on watch, I was just going to make some for him."
Fritz nodded slightly.
Biggles knelt and made tea on the Primus stove. By now, this was second nature, a swift and practiced activity that needed little thought. He placed a hot mug into Fritz's hands.
As if the touch had jarred something loose, Fritz said abruptly, "I killed that man." He spoke in German. Flushing a little, he switched to English. "At the coal workings. When -- when he was --"
"I know," Biggles said quietly. "He may well have killed me, or given an alarm. You did what needed to be done."
"I understand that," Fritz said. He blinked and looked away. "I know it -- but --"
He was shivering a little. Biggles put a hand on his arm. Fritz took one hand off the mug of tea to rub his eyes wearily.
"Don't speak of this to Uncle, please," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He has done so many brave things, this is nothing for him. I'll be all right in a minute."
"It is never 'nothing' the first time," Biggles said quietly. "It was easier for me, perhaps, because I couldn't see their faces." It was so long ago now that he could barely remember what it had felt like the first time; all those memories ran together somewhat. But the shaking, slumped exhaustion, the absence of any clear feeling he could identify, after he had made a kill in a dogfight was something he remembered very well.
With his hand still on Fritz's shoulder, he went on. "But if I had it to do over again, I should do the same thing, for the lives of myself and my squadron were at stake. You'd do the same thing again too, I expect?"
"Yes, of course." Fritz yawned and rubbed his eyes again. Talking seemed to have relieved him of some of his burden, and weariness from the day's activities was catching up with him now.
Biggles patted his shoulder and got up to deliver a flask of tea to Algy in the cockpit. When he came back, Fritz was all but asleep in his seat. Biggles relieved him of the mug of tea which showed signs of falling to the floor, then urged him up and steered him to an empty space among the sleepers. Fritz curled up and dropped off almost before Biggles had finished draping the blanket over him.
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I expect it's been a while since Biggles had to trot out his 'so you just killed someone in combat for the first time' speech, but you can see he knows how to do it. And Fritz asking Biggles to please not tell his uncle is just perfect and a little heartbreaking all at once <333
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Like Philomytha above I'm caught thinking about how many times Biggles must have had to give that talk before, and how touching it is that he can give it to Fritz now. (Fritz really is in many ways a meld of Erich and Biggles' character traits, which has always fascinated me.)
It is always so nice to read more Biggles & Fritz interacting, thank you!
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Fritz is what you’d get if full adult Biggles was given a teenage EvS to educate and take on adventures in the same way as he did Ginger, and this is making me want time travel fic where that happens...
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