3.
A/N Sorry, Newkirk has a pretty dirty mouth. But don't worry, there's a stern!Carter.
"Scheisse*!" was his first thought. Sometimes, when everything goes to pot, there is something so satisfying about cursing in another language. But cursing in English is also satisfying, and as Newkirk is an equal opportunity swearer, he balanced the German with words in his native tongue.
Afterwards, he didn't know what had made Carter's face whiten: the very colorful and vivid obscenities, or the fact that Newkirk had fallen straight down a pit at least 3.5 meters (10 feet). Scratch that, not straight down. Various thick roots were protruding from the soil, ensuring that while Newkirk didn't die, he had certainly become damaged.
But forget Carter; what was really worrying was that Newkirk could no longer move his leg without wanting to wail. He huffed. Damn extremities always getting in the way.
Once he could breathe normally again, Newkirk hazarded a look up to the top of the pit. A pastel face peered back. "New … Newkirk?" Carter's voice trembled. "You're okay?"
Newkirk huffed again. "I didn't die, if that's what you mean. Though I think this leg is buggered. Don't think I'm goin' to be much 'elp to you anymore. Sorry mate."
Carter seemed to calm once he heard the Brit's voice. "Oh, that's okay Newkirk! Don't worry, I'll go find a way to get you out!" He called, eagerly.
"'ey, don't you climb down 'ere; you'll get stuck too."
Carter frowned. "I know that. I'm not stupid."
Newkirk painfully and apologetically smiled. "Sorry." But Carter was not there to hear, having ventured into the trees.
Sitting in the pit, in pain, with dawn rising, alone; Newkirk wasn't typically a person who got nervous, but he started to feel a bit of collywobbles. And an ancy Newkirk is a loud Newkirk. "Well, this is just smashing. You've really done it this time, Newkirk. Trust you to foul up while it's only you and Carter. Alone. In the woods. What a sad arse* you are."
He shifted, then decided that as long as the action continued to nearly make him scream, it would be best to sit still. He continued to sit in the quiet night for quite a while - almost 10 minutes - before he couldn't take it anymore. "Yup, this is boring. CARTER!" Newkirk yelled before remembering that he was in the heart of Nazi Germany. Oh well, c'est la vie*, as LeBeau would say.
However, the words had their desired effect. Carter sprinted to the edge of the hole. "What? You hurt?"
"Yes, but we've already established that. I wanted to know where you were."
Carter gaped. "Why did you yell? We're out of uniform, for goodness sake! If we get caught …"
"Yeah," Newkirk interrupted. "But I want out of 'ere. 'ow close are you to getting' me out?" He looked expectantly at his friend.
A glare settled on Carter's face before he pulled away to wherever he was doing stuff. This time, it was Newkirk who gaped. "'ey! What are you doin'?"
Carter appeared again, fairly spitting out his answer. "I'm making a way for me to pull you out! Stop being a girl! I told you I'd find something; trust me."
Newkirk spluttered, but the American cut of his likely curse-filled response. "No. Stop being crude, sit still, and be patient. I swear, sometimes you act like you're 12!"
Quietude reigned as Carter carefully knotted ivy with the rope he was thankful Colonel Hogan made him bring. Wrap round. Keep in place with your thumb. Wrap the next strand. Do it again. Carter was concentrating so intently on his work, he didn't notice the sun stealthily appearing or Newkirk slyly "helping". Fortunately (or maybe not), Newkirk was not capable of standing, much less pulling himself out, so Carter was alerted to both problems with the pained gasp issuing from Newkirk's lips as he knocked out his stupid thick skull.
"You, you … Argh! How am I supposed to help you now, fat-head*?" Carter grumbled. He searched in the undergrowth for a puddle, worrying that he could actually see the ground. A wet shoe announced the presence of water, which Carter angrily scooped up and tossed down to Newkirk's head, only regretting the action after Newkirk jerked, which elicited a moan. The feeling quickly fled with Newkirk's indelicate remarks.
Carter heaved the looped rope to Newkirk, instructing him with fond annoyance. "Since you can't move your leg, no, you can't, lay down through the coil and maneuver the rope past your quote 'sad arse'."
"… Oh. You were listening?"
"You really think I would leave you, alone and injured?"
"…"
"Ouch."
"Well, I didn't really doubt you, I was just … concerned. It 'appens to everyone. I'm sure even the Colonel has moments where 'e's uneasy. No need to ruffle your feathers." As Newkirk rambled, Carter used a tree branch to help lift Newkirk's prone body. Once he made it past the edge, Carter collapsed, breathing hard.
He was startled by Newkirk's worried green eyes looking into his tired ones. "Alright?"
Carter nodded.
"'ey," Newkirk started. "I'm, well, I'm sorry I didn't trust you. You were right; that shows me lack faith, and I'm sorry, mate. Forgive me?"
Carter smiled. "Forgive and forget. Let's get you back to the Stalag to get that leg fixed up."
Newkirk grinned back. He knew he was lucky to have the kindest, most indulgent friend in the Allied army, and by God, he was grateful.
*Crap, but not. Don't say this. Really. It's bad.
*Pathetic person
*Such is life. But LeBeau would not say that about Newkirk being bored and yelling in enemy territory; he would have words a bit stronger, directed at Newkirk. Newkirk definitely used that phrase incorrectly.
*Idiot. This was a real American insult in the 40's. I think Carter would have used it.
A/N Hello! Sorry it's been a while since I've updated, work has been killer. And yes, I have two Author's Notes. Just deal with it :)
Kay, so I read this book, and it is amazing. It's called Wolf by Wolf by Ryan Graudin. It's an alternate history of the world; what might have happened if the Axis powers had won. Super cool! You guys should read it. I know if you are reading Hogan's Heroes fanfics, you're probably a WWII buff too, so you might enjoy it.
