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#for context: Charlie Via’s entire lower half was crushed and Saunders had a 3in stomach wound and McClelland had half of his face scalped
thatsrightice · 2 months
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Here’s unused content from my mota Crosby x Bubbles fic “and maybe if i hold you now”, but can be read alone!!! It’s basically just some fluff of Blakely’s crew after the October 8, 1943 mission to Bremen where Just-a-Snappin’ had gone down and their crew was presumed KIA. They returned late that night much to everyone’s surprise, though several of their crew were injured and one KIA.
Bubbles pulled off the path and into a gap a few buildings down from the interrogation hut. He glanced at his watch as he got out of the jeep. H-minus 0410. Inside, Blakely, Kidd, Douglass, Forkner, and Thornton were seated around a table with Colonel Harding. Standing behind the Colonel were several other members of Group Ops and lurking in the corner of the room with a dark look on his face was Bucky. Crosby walked around the table and sat in the empty chair between Blake and Doug. Bubbles nodded to the other members of Group Ops as he took his place beside them, across the table from Crosby.
“Glad you could finally join us, Lieutenant. Captain,” Harding addressed the pair.
“Sorry, Sir,” Bubbles spoke politely, stepping forward to place a document in front of him. “Lieutenant Crosby needed to be taken to the hospital to get checked out.”
“Lieutenant?” Harding turned to Crosby, who currently had his nose in his briefcase as he pulled out his logs and maps.
“Uh, yes, Sir,” Crosby confirmed. “Just a concussion, Sir.”
“We were just talkin’ ‘bout how you and Forky missed your calling to the Red Cross,” Doug grinned, tipping back in his chair back. His hand was wrapped in a bandage and his face was bruised but he looked to be in good spirits. Crosby was sure he didn’t look any better.
“I just did what Forky told me to,” Crosby protested. He flipped open his log book and shuffled through some maps.
Douglass ignored him, instead launching into his retelling of events. “Picture this, Croz is holding Charlie’s hands and smooth talkin’ him while he’s sitting on McClelland’s chest to keep the kid from climbing back in the ball,” Dougie boasted to all the flyboys around them. “All the while Forky is packing Charlie with our open parachutes and thawing a syringe of morphine in his mouth.”
“Let’s back up a bit now that we have the navigator’s logs,” the Colonel interrupted. “Try your best to remember what happened. Crosby, I hope your logs are as detailed as I hear.” Crosby’s head shot up, face taking on a red tint. He looked briefly from Harding to Bubbles and then back down to the logs in front of him.
“They will be, Sir,” Forky assured, smiling at the navigator. Blake nodded in agreement, resting an arm on the back of Crosby’s chair.
“Of course. Now let’s start from the top…”
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“... and then Croz starts talking about lamps…”
“Yeah! What was it he said? Two lamps or one?”
“By land, or by sea,” Forky added. Bubbles snorted, shaking his head as he suppressed a laugh. The others looked at him in confusion.
“Wait, was that supposed to be a joke, Croz?”
“Maybe?” the navigator admitted, not sounding too sure of himself.
“Paul Revere,” Bubbles inputs. There was no response and everyone shrugged. “Ya know...the British are coming?”
A chorus of ‘ooohhhhhhh’s broke out amongst the group.
“Yeah, well these are the Germans and they came at us by air so make that three lamps,” Blake interrupted.
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“Up ahead we spotted another Fort with some Messerschmitts smelling around.”
“They were playing with them,” Doug grimaced in disgust.
“No chutes. Unable to ID,” Crosby added.
“Yeah, then they turn to us and the Luftwaffe, they just don’t stop coming but we took care of them.”
“That’s what happens when you have dead-eye gunners,” Crosby smiled at the man next to him. Doug leaned over and bumped shoulders with him.
“How many do you have noted in total?”
Crosby ran a finger down the page as he read the columns of his notes. He flipped to the next page. “I’ve got two for Via; two for Doug; two for Mac; two-no three for Thorny; one for Yevich and one for Nord.”
“That’s what, eleven?”
“Yes, sir. I have the IDs where observed in my logs,” Crosby confirmed.
Someone let out a low whistle.
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Crosby kept his head down as he quietly gathered his papers. Bucky’s footsteps echoed thunderously in the near-empty room, punctuated by the slamming of the front door.
“Don’t worry about him, Croz,” Kidd spoke softly, squeezing his shoulder.
“I should have paid closer attention,” Crosby shook his head.
“You did everything you could,” Blakely reassured him, lighting a cigarette. “There was so much solid flak, you could almost slice it like cake.”
“And I’m not sure there was anything you could have said that would give him the closure he’s looking for,” Douglass put a hand on his shoulder and stood. “Now, come on, I’m starving.”
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