![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Whumptober Day 1: Panic Attack (Biggles)
No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK
Search Party | Panic Attack | “If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)
600 words, Algy & team, mid 1930s sometime
It had never happened to Algy before, although he had seen Biggles come over this way, though not in a while. It was a fight on an airfield, an exploding fuel dump. The acrid smoke of burning petrol washed over him, and he was suddenly overwhelmed, dizzy, he was seeing a crumpling Camel with the engine exploding and he knew the name of the flaming fellow in the cockpit but he couldn't bring it to mind, and he didn't know where he was and someone was catching him, sturdy hands holding him and guiding him to sit down on a barrel.
"Are you all right? Are you hit?"
Algy surfaced a little, gripping the hand clinging to his, while the other was plucking at his jacket. He found himself looking into Ginger's young, worried face, and mustered up the words to respond through thick-feeling lips. "No -- no, go help Biggles, it's all right, nothing to worry about, I'll be right behind you."
Ginger looked unsure, but just then Biggles shouted something and Ginger took off running. Algy tried to get up, fell back on the barrel, and sat with his head in his hands for a minute, pulling himself together.
He was starting to get up, pushing himself off the barrel, when Biggles arrived suddenly, alight with his usual half-manic energy after some scene of derring-do. "Algy, there you are, old man. Ginger, could you run up to the shed with the radio equipment and get the local authorities on the horn? It's behind the hangars that way."
Once Ginger had vanished, Biggles put a hand on Algy's shoulder. "Want to sit down?"
"I am sitting down," Algy complained, but he allowed himself to be steered to a pile of burlap sacks in the shadow of the hangar, a more comfortable seat than the barrel. Biggles settled beside him in a graceful descent.
"I take it you got our smugglers dead to rights," Algy said, trying to rally a bit. "Anyone hurt?"
"Not to speak of, they're all trussed up, and Ginger had a grand time getting to use the knots he's been practicing. Here, drink this."
Biggles gave him a flask of lukewarm tea from the pocket of his coat, and Algy sipped it, sighed, leaned his head back against the sheet-metal side of the shed.
"It was the smoke that got to me," he said at last. "The smell."
"Yes, it does for me sometimes, too." Biggles took the tea flask, drank from it himself, passed it back.
"I should have helped," Algy said, still angry at himself.
"You couldn't at that moment. I know that. Ginger doesn't really understand why, but he knows you weren't well. A man isn't to be blamed if he falls into an unseen hole and breaks an ankle. That's all this is, really."
Algy couldn't bring himself to answer. Biggles gave him a slightly stale biscuit from his pocket (lightly crumbled and wrapped in a handkerchief, kept on hand in case of Ginger's teenage appetite), and he ate it without enthusiasm, washed down with the cold tea. But by the time Ginger came back, bounding full of self-important satisfaction to report that the authorities were on their way, Algy was able to stand without shaking and go out on the runway with them to meet the oncoming vehicles.
(Later that evening, back at their hotel, he went to bed early and lay in the dark, listening to the wireless play in the main room, and Ginger's happy exclamations, playing a card game with Biggles. After a while, Biggles came in and sat on the edge of his bed for a while, hand on his shoulder. Algy didn't think he'd sleep, but abruptly he did, and woke to the wall washed in morning sun, and cheerful voices from the room next door.)
Search Party | Panic Attack | “If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)
600 words, Algy & team, mid 1930s sometime
It had never happened to Algy before, although he had seen Biggles come over this way, though not in a while. It was a fight on an airfield, an exploding fuel dump. The acrid smoke of burning petrol washed over him, and he was suddenly overwhelmed, dizzy, he was seeing a crumpling Camel with the engine exploding and he knew the name of the flaming fellow in the cockpit but he couldn't bring it to mind, and he didn't know where he was and someone was catching him, sturdy hands holding him and guiding him to sit down on a barrel.
"Are you all right? Are you hit?"
Algy surfaced a little, gripping the hand clinging to his, while the other was plucking at his jacket. He found himself looking into Ginger's young, worried face, and mustered up the words to respond through thick-feeling lips. "No -- no, go help Biggles, it's all right, nothing to worry about, I'll be right behind you."
Ginger looked unsure, but just then Biggles shouted something and Ginger took off running. Algy tried to get up, fell back on the barrel, and sat with his head in his hands for a minute, pulling himself together.
He was starting to get up, pushing himself off the barrel, when Biggles arrived suddenly, alight with his usual half-manic energy after some scene of derring-do. "Algy, there you are, old man. Ginger, could you run up to the shed with the radio equipment and get the local authorities on the horn? It's behind the hangars that way."
Once Ginger had vanished, Biggles put a hand on Algy's shoulder. "Want to sit down?"
"I am sitting down," Algy complained, but he allowed himself to be steered to a pile of burlap sacks in the shadow of the hangar, a more comfortable seat than the barrel. Biggles settled beside him in a graceful descent.
"I take it you got our smugglers dead to rights," Algy said, trying to rally a bit. "Anyone hurt?"
"Not to speak of, they're all trussed up, and Ginger had a grand time getting to use the knots he's been practicing. Here, drink this."
Biggles gave him a flask of lukewarm tea from the pocket of his coat, and Algy sipped it, sighed, leaned his head back against the sheet-metal side of the shed.
"It was the smoke that got to me," he said at last. "The smell."
"Yes, it does for me sometimes, too." Biggles took the tea flask, drank from it himself, passed it back.
"I should have helped," Algy said, still angry at himself.
"You couldn't at that moment. I know that. Ginger doesn't really understand why, but he knows you weren't well. A man isn't to be blamed if he falls into an unseen hole and breaks an ankle. That's all this is, really."
Algy couldn't bring himself to answer. Biggles gave him a slightly stale biscuit from his pocket (lightly crumbled and wrapped in a handkerchief, kept on hand in case of Ginger's teenage appetite), and he ate it without enthusiasm, washed down with the cold tea. But by the time Ginger came back, bounding full of self-important satisfaction to report that the authorities were on their way, Algy was able to stand without shaking and go out on the runway with them to meet the oncoming vehicles.
(Later that evening, back at their hotel, he went to bed early and lay in the dark, listening to the wireless play in the main room, and Ginger's happy exclamations, playing a card game with Biggles. After a while, Biggles came in and sat on the edge of his bed for a while, hand on his shoulder. Algy didn't think he'd sleep, but abruptly he did, and woke to the wall washed in morning sun, and cheerful voices from the room next door.)
no subject
no subject
no subject
I love all their kind care of him, Ginger getting him out of the situation, Biggles coming over and taking the whole thing in, sending Ginger away and giving him some tea, an update, and some classic Biggles reassurance: it's not Algy's fault he fell into this particular hole this time and Biggles knows it, probably more certainly for Algy than he does for himself.
And Biggles makes sure he gets to sleep! I love them <333
no subject
no subject
BRB, crying forever ;_____; this is delightful, all their reactions are perfect and so in-character, I love them allllllll.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Also, Algy D: D: D: poor lamb. Thanks for posting!
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Hee!
This was so sweet.
no subject
no subject