AN: I have no claim to Hogan's Heroes and its related characters. I claim only the original characters inspired by their universe.
Andrew J. Carter had fallen.
He wasn't tumbling like those boys had when a Messerschmitt sliced their B-17 in half during their first mission over Dresden. This was more like floating in the grip of a force intent on spiriting him away.
It started when Carter heard a scream in the back of his bomber. He almost rose to investigate, stopping himself when he remembered Captain Stacey, his commanding officer's, biggest rule: no walking mid-flight or else. He'd never elaborated on what 'or else' was. He didn't have to; Captain Stacey's reputation for discipline was legendary throughout the 182nd Bomber Group.
"Carter," Stacey squawked over the radio. "See what's going on back there. Make sure Gonzales, Matheson and Cohen are okay and report back."
"Yessir!" Carter replied, standing up, only to crash into Wallace, their navigator, as the plane bucked under anti-aircraft fire.
"Watch it!" The wind-burned New Yorker groused, shoving him upright.
Carter squeezed Wallace's broad shoulders. "Sorry." Holding onto anything that seemed firmly attached to the plane, he crawled toward the tail.
He was almost halfway when he noticed a hole in the floor stretching from side to side. His eyes widened. Holy Moly. Something awfully big must've done that. His feet slid toward the hole as the plane tipped up. Funny, the clouds look like cotton candy Mr. Fitz used to make at the State Fair every August. My brother and I would eat a pound of that stuff each when we were kids, then we'd ride the Tilt a Whirl until we were sick. Those were great days.
"Carter!" Colonel Hogan barked. "Don't go over the edge!"
His feet slid over the hole. It looks so beautiful. How bad could it be out there?
A pair of grimy hands grabbed his shoulders. "Hang on, Andrew, I've got you," Newkirk shouted in his ear. "Just stop dragging me down with you!"
"Hang on, mes amis!" LeBeau cried. "I've got your coat, Pierre."
Newkirk glanced at the Frenchman. "Great, now yank us back! He's dead weight in me arms."
Carter smiled. Isn't that nice? Even though you guys can be really nasty sometimes, you're really the best pals anyone could ask for.
"Don't let him go!" Kinch yelled. "We've already lost our gunners. We can't lose Carter too!"
The technical sergeant's heart stopped. This is where Gonzales, Matheson and Cohen should've been.
He plummeted as Newkirk's fingers evaporated.
"Andrew," a sensual voice called, flooding his thoughts with a vision of a girl with dimpled cheeks and brown eyes a man could get lost in. Her yellow bathing suit flaunted two long, creamy legs and a figure Betty Grable would be jealous of.
"Mary Jane," he whispered. "I love you."
"Son, wake up!"
Carter opened his eyes, nearly leaping up as Mary Jane's face dissolved into a chubby male one. "Schultz?" he murmured. "Go away. It can't be time for roll call yet."
The man frowned. "Son, snap out of it! You're in America now! You're on a train, which I'm the conductor of."
The former sergeant took a deep breath, taking in the honey-coloured seats and hum of train wheels on tracks. "Where are we?"
"We're almost in Muncie now. That's why I woke you." The conductor pushed his navy cap out of his eyes. "You seemed to be having quite a nightmare."
Carter sat up, rubbing his eyes. "It wasn't my idea of a swell dream, that's for sure."I'd rather never dream again than dream about her.
The conductor laughed. "Any dream without Mae West in it is a nightmare if you ask me. Although, for a boy having bad dreams, you were asleep a mighty long time. I've tried to wake you a hundred times since we left Fargo last night so I could check your ticket, but nothing short of the train derailing was going to disturb you, no sir."
Carter reached for his wallet. "I've got it right here." He frowned, thumbing through the few dollar bills left in it. "At least I had it here a minute ago."
The older man raised his hand. "Forget it. I wouldn't throw you off, even if you were a stowaway. I've got two boys of my own who are about your age and they just came back from Japan. I figure the least this country owes you fellas is a free train ride."
Carter grinned. "Thanks, sir. I really appreciate it." He winced as he stifled a yawn. "Pardon me for saying so, but I'll be glad to get off this train. These seats are about as comfortable as concrete."
The conductor made an apologetic motion. "We get that a lot, though you've probably had it a darn sight worse, considering where you've been. What part of the service were you in?"
The North Dakotan brushed a stray hair from his eyes. "The Air Corp in England."
The rail employee folded his arms. "We've had a lot of you boys traveling with us lately. You all look alike—you're wearing suits 10 sizes too big or small for you in a colour you hate." He chuckled when the newly christened civilian pushed his brown suit sleeves back. "You all have the same look on your faces too, like you're a little lost and afraid of what's waiting for you on the other side of these doors, but very happy to be home. So, what are your plans now?"
Carter sighed. "I don't know. I've been thinking about it since I was discharged and went to stay at my folks' farm in Bullfrog. We finished harvesting last week, and, since they didn't need me anymore, I decided to get back to my life here before the war." Minus Mary Jane. His stomach leapt up his throat. I haven't seen her since I left. What am I going to do if I run into her at the movies, or at the store? I don't think I could take seeing her again, especially if she's arm in arm with the air raid warden who's handsomer and smarter than I am, apparently.
The conductor offered his hand. "Best of luck to you, whatever you decide." He turned as the train slowed. "I'd love to stay and chat, but duty calls." He paused. "There's just one thing I'd like to know. You said something about a guy named Schultz when I woke you up. Who is he? It seems every second guy we get on this train calls me that. My name's Monahan, not Schultz."
Carter shook his head, glowing inside. "Forget it. Every base in England had a guy named Schultz on it." Glad to know some of those guys we helped in Germany made it back.
Monahan waved, hurrying away when the train pulled up. "Bless you son, and welcome home.""Thanks again!" Carter called back, rubbing the grime off the window beside him so he could see the station. Oh boy, where should I go after Chick picks me up? He stood, stretching his arms. I should probably see Mrs. Lionel and ask her if she still has room for me at her boarding house. I doubt it, though. She never liked me much—she probably sold all my stuff and gave my room to some salesman ages ago.He let a porter pass before entering the aisle. I guess I could see Mr. Dunlap at the drug store about getting my old job back, but I'd rather wait until I've had a chance to shower and shave.
Whatever you do, you'd better hope Mary Jane isn't there, an inner voice murmured. She'll probably laugh when she sees you.
He unclenched his jaw. Maybe I won't run into her. Mary Jane can't be everywhere I might be all the time.
Yes, but you know how she gets around, the voice replied. You'll probably see her a hundred times before the week's over. She'll be having the time of her life with that creep, without thinking twice about you.
His heart sunk. Why did I listen to Mom and Dad? "Go, Andrew, it's time to move on with your life," they said."You can't hide here forever." He scratched at his shirt collar. I wasn't hiding; I just wanted to stay home and help on the farm for awhile. I should still be there now. They need me, even if they won't admit it.
An elderly woman ahead of Carter clicked her tongue at him when his stomach growled. Gee, it's been awhile since I've eaten, he thought as he apologized verbally. I wonder if Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson still have their diner on Main Street. Boy, they used to make the best burgers and fries. Stretch, Chick and I always stopped there after work on Fridays for a burger platter and Coke. Sometimes I'd meet Mary Jane there too.
He closed his eyes, pushing the memory away as his anxiety started anew. Forget her. She's poison ivy, a rattlesnake! You're better off without her.
If only it were that easy, Carter mused as he deboarded. I spent so many nights walking her home in Bullfrog, trying to sneak a kiss under the porch light before her dad came out to smoke that pipe tobacco that smelt like burnt manure. What about all those times we snuggled at the movies or took those afternoon drives in the country and had picnics at the beach so she could show me her new bathing suit? For crying out loud, I followed her to Muncie when she got a job at her brother in-law's printing office because I wanted to marry her! It's not easy throwing all that away.
"Don't think about it anymore. You're not going to see her and that's that," he murmured, jumping onto the platform, inhaling a mixture of rail grease and falling leaves on the crisp air, a refreshing change from the stench of decay in Europe. I don't care what people say. Give me the smell of a barn over cities like London any day.
Carter scanned the crowd around him. Boy, I hope Chick got my message. I don't know if I have enough money to pay for a cab. He tapped his foot. That would be a fine thing, having to ask strangers for a lift because my best friend forgot to pick me up.
He looked down when he felt a sharp tug on his pants. A red haired boy stared back at him with big brown eyes. Carter smiled and crouched down, tipping his fedora back. "Hi there, fella. Don't pull on those too hard, or they'll fall down."
The child studied his shoes. "Sorry."
Carter chuckled. "That's okay. What's your name?"
"Dennis," he said, a lisp adding a W to his name. "Are you a soldier?"
Carter shook his head. "I flew way up over Germany with a bunch of other fellas."
The boy's eyes widened. "Did you shoot any Germans?"
Carter thought of the Mustang responsible for shooting the Messerschmitt that cut the B-17 of rookies in his group in half. "Nope. My job was to make sure bombs fell where they were supposed to." I wonder how many innocent people were hurt because of guys like me?
Dennis, oblivious to his new friend's internal conflict, oohed and awed. "Wow! All my friends want to drive tanks when they grow up. I want to be just like you."
Carter mussed the child's curls. "Well, I'm mighty flattered pal, but do me a favour. Don't grow up too soon."
"Dennis!"
Carter rose, holding his breath as a girl a few years older than him scooped up the boy. "Stop bothering that nice man and come here! Auntie Mary's probably wondering where we got to!" Her jaw dropped when she noticed him. "Andrew."
Carter's brain froze, though his lips moved mechanically. "How are you, Barb?"
She adjusted her feathered hat over her perm. "Fine." She let off a nervous laugh. "Gosh, I haven't seen you since Dennis was christened."
Carter glanced at the boy, now burying his face in his mother's floral print dress. "Yeah, it's been awhile. I remember when he was the size of a loaf of bread and 10 times as heavy."
Barb nodded. "Well, they don't stay small for long. So what are you doing these days?"
He jerked his thumb at the train behind them. "I just got in from visiting my folks. I'm hoping to get my old job back, maybe even take the state pharmaceutical exam like I planned to before the war. What about you?"
She shrugged. "The usual—taking care of Dick and Dennis. Sometimes I'm not sure who's more work— the boy I had or the boy I married."
He looked away. "Well, you look good. I mean it too— you really do. You look even better than the last time I saw you, which was quite awhile ago. You know, you look so good..."
"She's fine, Andrew," Barb supplied. "You can say hello if you wait a minute. She'll be along any time."
He peeked around her shoulder. "No, I should be going. I'm supposed to meet Chick. You haven't seen him, have you?"
She shook her head. "You know Chick. He'll probably show up when you're walking home."
Carter laughed, about to reply when a sensual voice cut through the din around them. "Barb? Barb! Where did you go?"
He caught a glimpse of her face in the crowd in front of him. Though she wore a grey suit, skirt and hat that aged her 15 years, her blond ringlets and body hadn't changed.
Startwalking, a voice in his head said. Maybe she didn't see you.
Carter waved to Mary Jane's older sister. "Well, Barb, it's been great, but I've got to go. Take care."
She blew him a kiss. "You too."
"Andrew," Mary Jane called, "Is that you?"
Carter hurried away, cursing to himself. Damn his heart for fluttering the way it used to when he saw her, and for aching with emotions as raw as the day he got her last letter. He wanted to cry, scream, wrap his hands around her pretty little neck, then kiss her and beg her forgiveness for whatever mistakes he'd made. Mary Jane. Who would've thought those two words could do this to a person?
"Andrew, wait!" Mary Jane shouted, her clicking heelsgrowing louder. "Andrew." She grabbed his sleeve. "Hi. It's been a long time."
He stopped and turned around slowly. "Yeah." His tone sounded colder than he intended.
She forced a smile. "How are you?"
His eyes narrowed. "Look, Mary Jane, if this is your idea of a joke, you can go on and beat it. I've had my fill of you making a fool out of me."
She flinched at the verbal assault. "Please, don't…."
Carter balled his hands into fists. "Don't what? Tell you what your last letter did to me? Tell you what it felt like when I realized all the promises you made were lies and nothing I ever said or did mattered to you." He looked away, feeling his composure slip. "How could you, Mary Jane? You said you'd wait for me to come home, so I could come back with a ring and propose to you properly!" His breath came in shallow gasps. "It's funny. When my plane was shot down and I thought I was going to die, I thought about you and how much it would break your heart if I didn't make it. Guess the laugh was on me, huh?"
Her fingers brushed his shoulder. "Andrew."
He shrugged her off as he felt the old electricity spark from her touch. "Get away from me!"
"Please, wait," she pleaded. " I need to talk to you."
He stalked off. "Save it for the air raid warden. You can laugh about it over dinner tonight."
"He left me."
Carter halted, seeing tears form in her eyes when he glanced back. "He cheated on me with another girl. It felt like he'd torn my heart out when I caught him. I cried for days. I wanted to kill him, kill myself."
"I'm sorry," Carter replied, his tone softening.
Mary Jane shook her head. "After he broke it off, I became a nurse and went to the military hospital in Honolulu. I looked after men who were in Guadalcanal, Guam, Iwo Jima, Okinawa; all of those battles." She closed her eyes. "There were so many men and so many wounds. It was hard, but I'm glad I did it. It made me realize how many good men were taken away from people they loved. Men like you." She looked up. "You were so good to me and I took it for granted. I'm so sorry."
Carter studied her as she wiped her eyes. "What do you want me to say, that all's forgiven? I'm not sure I can do that."
"I'm not asking you to. I just wanted you to know everything that happened. I owed you that much."
He shuffled his feet, struggling to ignore the people watching and waiting for them to leap into each other's arms like the Life magazine couple. "So where do we go from here?"
She turned to an incoming train. "I'm going back to Hawaii. The hospital asked me to stay on and I agreed. What about you?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. I've got to see how everything is, I guess."
Mary Jane extended her hand. "Well, good luck, whatever happens." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Goodbye, Andrew. I hope you find a girl who can love you better than I did."
Carter trembled, anger, love and regret all churning in his stomach as he watched her join her sister and nephew for a final goodbye before boarding the train. Wait. Don't leave me again. His feet started after her, his head imagining taking her in his arms and promising to forgive her and follow her to the end of the earth if she'd only try again.
Let her go, a small voice within him said. It's over. You're different people now. It would never be the same, even if you still loved each other instead of each other's memories.
He stopped, the desire to reconcile evaporating as a porter helped Mary Jane aboard. She didn't look back.
Go, Andrew, his parents voices echoed in his ear. It's time to move on with your life.
"Hey, Big A!"
He turned and saw a freckle-faced kid waving to him. "Hiyah Chick!"
The kid swaggered over. "It's really good to see you again. This town hasn't been the same without you." He frowned. "Something wrong?"
Carter smiled, a small sense of peace—a feeling he was sure would grow in the coming days—settling the turmoil inside him. "Not a thing. I've just got to find my bag and I'll be ready to go." His stomach growled again. "Can we stop at Jefferson's for a burger on the way home? I'm starving."
