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Whumptober Day 10: Blow to the Head (Biggles)
No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD
Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | “I can’t think straight.”
Biggles, post-Hatchet era, Algy & EvS
The blow rattled Algy's brain, turned the world upside down. He was dimly aware of some sort of scuffle, and then he was gathered up off the floor.
"Biggles?" he mumbled, as his arm was slung across a pair of shoulders that were definitely not Biggles' -- too bony, and too tall.
"He's well," said the last voice Algy would have preferred to hear. He half opened his eyes, returning to a dazed sort of coherence to find that, yes, he was not wrong; the person who was holding him up and hustling him out of the depths of the enemy base was von Stalhein. On their side. Right. But supposedly in quite a different part of the base, searching for papers.
"Don't you have something else to do?" he demanded, or tried to, but it came out as an incoherent mumble and then the effort made him retch.
Von Stalhein dealt with this with his usual unflappable calm, supporting him while he heaved helplessly, then slung Algy's arm around his neck and helped him up a flight of stairs.
"Biggles," Algy said, more distinctly and urgently, he hoped. Although he had a vague sense that he might have asked that before.
"He's well. He's just outside."
But when they got out, it was von Stalhein who sat him on a crumbled brick wall, took his chin in a firm grip and shined a torch in his eyes. Algy tried to wrench his head out of the way, which nearly undid what was left of his fragile equilibrium. He wobbled, the world slid sideways, and he endured the indignity of von Stalhein catching him and tilting him back upright. When Algy opened his eyes, the light had gone away.
"It's not serious," von Stalhein said.
"Easy for you to say," Algy muttered, hunching into himself.
Von Stalhein removed his hand from Algy's shoulder -- Algy hadn't even realized it was there -- and Algy sat shivering and miserable, watching with dazed and vaguely irritated incomprehension as von Stalhein took a neatly folded pocket square from his greatcoat, and a canteen from his other pocket, and wet it. Then Algy came alive, somewhat, as von Stalhein made a move towards him.
"What are you doing?" Algy objected. But, mindful of the last time, he didn't make more than a cursory attempt to escape as a firm hand settled behind his head and von Stalhein held him still while dabbing at his forehead with the dampened handkerchief.
"You're bleeding," von Stalhein said.
"I know that," Algy said, and made a couple of uncoordinated attempts to take the handkerchief away until von Stalhein let him. He pressed it to the aching side of his head and half closed his eyes, then opened them again when the greatcoat, still warm from von Stalhein's body heat, settled heavily over his shoulders.
"This is completely unnecessary."
"I know," von Stalhein said equanimously. "Guard our rear. I shall go find Bigglesworth and see what sort of trouble the rest of your team is in."
Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | “I can’t think straight.”
Biggles, post-Hatchet era, Algy & EvS
The blow rattled Algy's brain, turned the world upside down. He was dimly aware of some sort of scuffle, and then he was gathered up off the floor.
"Biggles?" he mumbled, as his arm was slung across a pair of shoulders that were definitely not Biggles' -- too bony, and too tall.
"He's well," said the last voice Algy would have preferred to hear. He half opened his eyes, returning to a dazed sort of coherence to find that, yes, he was not wrong; the person who was holding him up and hustling him out of the depths of the enemy base was von Stalhein. On their side. Right. But supposedly in quite a different part of the base, searching for papers.
"Don't you have something else to do?" he demanded, or tried to, but it came out as an incoherent mumble and then the effort made him retch.
Von Stalhein dealt with this with his usual unflappable calm, supporting him while he heaved helplessly, then slung Algy's arm around his neck and helped him up a flight of stairs.
"Biggles," Algy said, more distinctly and urgently, he hoped. Although he had a vague sense that he might have asked that before.
"He's well. He's just outside."
But when they got out, it was von Stalhein who sat him on a crumbled brick wall, took his chin in a firm grip and shined a torch in his eyes. Algy tried to wrench his head out of the way, which nearly undid what was left of his fragile equilibrium. He wobbled, the world slid sideways, and he endured the indignity of von Stalhein catching him and tilting him back upright. When Algy opened his eyes, the light had gone away.
"It's not serious," von Stalhein said.
"Easy for you to say," Algy muttered, hunching into himself.
Von Stalhein removed his hand from Algy's shoulder -- Algy hadn't even realized it was there -- and Algy sat shivering and miserable, watching with dazed and vaguely irritated incomprehension as von Stalhein took a neatly folded pocket square from his greatcoat, and a canteen from his other pocket, and wet it. Then Algy came alive, somewhat, as von Stalhein made a move towards him.
"What are you doing?" Algy objected. But, mindful of the last time, he didn't make more than a cursory attempt to escape as a firm hand settled behind his head and von Stalhein held him still while dabbing at his forehead with the dampened handkerchief.
"You're bleeding," von Stalhein said.
"I know that," Algy said, and made a couple of uncoordinated attempts to take the handkerchief away until von Stalhein let him. He pressed it to the aching side of his head and half closed his eyes, then opened them again when the greatcoat, still warm from von Stalhein's body heat, settled heavily over his shoulders.
"This is completely unnecessary."
"I know," von Stalhein said equanimously. "Guard our rear. I shall go find Bigglesworth and see what sort of trouble the rest of your team is in."
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(oh but that tiny reference to “your” team which kind of funny because I can imagine the dryness of that home but kind of 😭bc not enough has happened yet for Erich to feel like it’s “our” team)
10000/10 hurt/comfort, much love 😍
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(oh but that tiny reference to “your” team which kind of funny because I can imagine the dryness of that home but kind of 😭bc not enough has happened yet for Erich to feel like it’s “our” team)
Yesssss, that was what I was going for; he still very casually treats himself as an outsider to the team, but this is how you get yourself adopted and taken home, Erich.
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He was dimly aware of some sort of scuffle, and then he was gathered up off the floor.
<3 <3 <3 Erich to the rescue picking Algy up like an armful of laundry <3 <3 <3
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this is so incredibly sweet, prickly, full of care, my best boys T_T
"Biggles," Algy said, more distinctly and urgently
god bless the single brain cell floating inside algy's head.
the greatcoat, still warm from von Stalhein's body heat, settled heavily over his shoulders.
"This is completely unnecessary."
AUGH. delightful!! so strangely intimate? such an image of algy being under erich's protection.
well done i loved this very much!!!
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