He stayed like that for awhile, crying away. It was such a baby thing to do, something his father or sister used to nag at him for. Whether it be he fell over and scraped his knee, dropped the juice jug, got pushed over or called names he always cried. Which always made things worse though this time he felt it was warranted that he could cry. He heard footsteps coming into the cave and someone sitting down next to him making him cringe into himself. Someone to laugh at him was the last thing he needed. He sniffled as a voice spoke up,
'Gibson was too chicken to come in so he's outside, stupid frog thinks you're scary when you're crying Freckles' he flinched and turned to peer through his soggy bangs at Alex who turned and gave him one of those stupid grins of his. He had all the urge to tell him to go away or to leave him alone but it was more dangerous out there.
'H-he can come in. It's dangerous out...there' what he didn't expect was the wholehearted laugh from Alex as he shouted Gibson in. He looked like a stupid, scared mess while Gibson walked in looking all handsome, not his words he swears, despite being the most injured of the three. His face heated and he ducked into his little ball again.
'Look you Frog! you've scared 'im again!' Alex exclaimed as Gibson moved to sit in front of him. He gently touched his arms and slowly pushed them to his sides while smiling. Then saying things he couldn't grasp in French causing him to smile slightly, he didn't really know why, and Alex to gawk out 'Gods he's speaking French again! Eejits the both of you!' and laughing as he left the cave to stand outside. Gibson continued to what he thought was encouraging him in the dark and sea coated cave before he uncurled and was laughing away with him. Wiping his eyes Gibson held his hand out the cave, meeting a happy Alex.
'Ready? the ship is docked 'nd the tide is just right, this time I'm sure we'll get out. The freakin' frog can come too since he makes you happy or somethin' and to his surprise, he saw some ships docked at the make shift 'Automobile moles' as he called them. The tide did indeed look right and the sun was high in the sky. He stood with his eyes closed and let the sunshine hit his face for a few minutes before spontaneously giggling with the other two laughing along with him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad this time around.
They briskly made their way up and boarded, to the same Jam and toast that made him happy and life jackets. Once the Destroyer was fully packed they immediately set off for home. Everyone looked gaunt and exhausted and it made Tommy nervous and so he stood close to Gibson and Alex, nestled between the two. This time there was much less chatter, no stories of home and family or games or smashed jam jars, they just stood. Waiting. They went up to the deck since Gibson seemed nervous and they might have a round two with getting stuck inside and once they were out it was beautiful. The large open sea a glorious turquoise that shimmered with the light of the sun. There were other boats also taking the men home and smaller ships appearing too! they were tiny little fishing boats with men and women manning them, As they passed the men gave huge rounds of applause uplifting the atmosphere some more. If you looked closely, which Tommy did by practically hanging over the railing, you could see shoals of fishes flashing silver and the occasional orange float, a striking contrast to the blue depths. Gibson had to pull him up before he fell over board, chuckling at his curiosity.
It was a few hours and they were nearing the other 'little ships', is what he heard people call them, that were waiting to pick any people who fell in or if a ship sunk when it all slipped into chaos. There was that tale telling hum he'd heard like a broken record before he was clutching Gibson like a large, over sized stuffed animal with him hushing him with more soft French and rubbing his shoulder. Stukas swooped in from behind them and they were sure this was it. Their boat would sink again and this time they couldn't get back to shore, they were too far out. Everyone waited with bated breath and some people braced themselves when they suddenly heard the welcoming roar of home.
everyone whipped their heads around and they saw three Spitfires rumble over head gaining such an applause and cheer from the boat. They flew over already diving out of formation into a way they could dog fight the Stukas off. Their tendrils of smoke like silver shining in the sky. They might just make this one. It was a tense scene as one took on the other. Swerving around trying to avoid the boats with men and women amongst them. They managed to get one plane down and then another, there was only about 3 left. One of the Spitfires went down and crashed the into the water and combusting as it skidded along making him flinch. Grim. Some of the ships nearby were trying to move waters but were shot down, yet they had to be the biggest target here though. Another Spitfire went down and it was two against one. The last Spitfire reared a Stuka off to fight him away from the boats but that left the other one to do as it pleased. It roared over shooting down the boat and below it. Shit. It seemed to miss but the off shots sent a bullet skimming his shoulder and into the limbs and hearts of other men. Gibson let go slightly startled by his quiet howl of pain.
His knees went weak as he fell to the boat deck, hand on his shoulder. Smeared dark maroon in pain. Alex was on full alert and so was Roussel as he started shaking and getting teary eyed. The pain was like tremors through his skin, rushing him with adrenaline. Alex bolted and he didn't know why as Gibson moved down to remove his clothing. Everything around the tips of his eyes was nothingness and anything through his ears was just noise. He turned his head frantically, the pain making him hunch over further. Must Alex have returned and set a first aid kit? yeah, first aid kit by Gibson's side as he ripped it open to get the equipment within. He realized he was such a big baby in comparison to others like Gibson when the wound wasn't even as big, a small tear from the bullet, on his shoulder's side. They patched it up and cleaned it while Alex handed him some water. Where he had gotten it in the chaos was beyond him. After quickly bandaging the wound they put his clothes back on and helped him shift up on to his feet. He tensed but the adrenaline seemed to make the pain transparent as he whispered a small 'I'm fine' before the plane roared over for round two shortly after. Again shooting but it seemed that it hit its target this time as the boat shifted weight as the gas hissed and the tanks burst. Oh shit. The sea waters beneath them began turning black and bubbling. Oil. Gibson hauled him to his side and hollered Alex over. They were jumping ship. Into Oil.
They made a resounding sloshing sound as they entered the sea, water once again flooding his ears and some of his lungs. He wanted to spit it out but resisted the urge. He felt someone, Gibson? Grab him and they resurfaced to breathe. Once. Twice. Then they swam under. If they could reach the other boats they'd be safe. He kept his eyes straight but flinched as the water above and mostly behind them him turned orange. The boat's embers had finally lit the oil on top of them. It had gone up in flames. He turned his head as Gibson guided them to the nearest safe boat, as he saw burnt and charred bodies with sunken faces dropping to the depths below. His lungs were getting tighter as Gibson pulled him up, Alex following them into the arms of a dusty-blonde man who looked about his age. A dark look on his face. He pulled them on handing them life jackets and moving them onto the ship. He spluttered and held onto Gibson as Alex surveyed the boat. they were pushed to the side as more men got on. There was only a few left and as they grabbed them he heard the dusty- blonde shout 'The Oil! Dad move it!' as they hastily reversed away as it was engulfed in angry spitting flames.
He knew the war was indeed hellish, and Dunkirk was God damn good proof of that, he was still shaking as everyone was wrapped in blankets and still covered in dirt and black oil. His ears felt like they had a permanent ring to them and his head and shoulder ached. Alex went down with some of the other men and he stayed up with Gibson in the fresh air. He didn't think he could take being below deck again for a while. There was no doubt they were all different from when they'd been flush faced and bright eyed when being deployed. Now everyone just looked so broken, shaking, shouting or just staring blankly into nothingness. Exhausted and hungry he turned his head and noticed a very welcoming sight.
The White Cliffs of Dover Glistening ahead of them.
What a wonderful welcome home.
(AN - ok so today there's gonna be 4 updates ( next four) they were irritating me in my drafts so I've thrown 'em out here :'D, thanks for reading this far in! xx)
