Chapter Text
It was a rainy day in StaLag13. Corporal Louis LeBeau was standing by the small stove they had in barrack two. It served as a stove, oven and heater. A little bored, the little man stirred the soup he had in his pot. Colonel Hogan and the others were all out there on a mission to blow up a German bridge. How did it work as a prisoner of war? Well, the friends had tunnels under the entire prisoner of war camp, StaLag13. Also secret exits and entrances. Why didn't they just flee? The group worked for the underground. It's a secret organization of the Allies. So they were prisoners of war, but actively worked to end the war by helping people out of Germany who were searched by the Gestapo, or by blowing up bridges. LeBeau smiled to himself. They were pretty good.
He himself was the cook and the man for small things, like hiding in a basket.
Kinchloe was the radio operator who always kept in touch with London, which was the headquarters of the underground.
Andrew Carter was in charge of the explosives because he was a chemist.
And Peter Newkirk was their thief, smuggler, liar and tailor.
Colonel Hogan was the leader of the POWs, so to speak, since he was the senior Colonel. In the underground, however, only were Hogan's four heroes. The other POWs were real prisoners. Hogan also had a small single room in the barracks, his office, which also had a double bed. But enough said now.
So LeBeau was standing at his stove, stirring soup. His thoughts whirled around his friends who were on said mission. For the first time this year he had to stay at home and hold his fort. Shortly after evening roll call, his friends set off. The Frenchman sighed softly and dropped onto the wooden bench that stood in front of a large wooden table in the barrack. His heart hurt a little. Of course he was afraid for his friends, but most of all for his boyfriend Corporal Peter Newkirk. They had been a couple for two weeks now. The little Frenchman never thought he could ever love an Englishman. And he was a crazy one. A grin crept onto his lips. Newkirk really was a madman. LeBeau sat on the bench thinking for a while before one of the lower bunk beds opened. It was a secret entrance to their tunnels. The little Frenchman jumped up. A smile formed on his face as he rushed to the bed. Carter was the first to climb the ladder.
"And!? How did it go mon ami!?" LeBeau exclaimed happily. Carter smiled weakly. He was still a little dirty when he climbed out of bed.
"If you mean the bridge, we blew it up successfully." He said, helping Kinchloe out of the bed.
"But?" LeBeau asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Newkirk isn't doing so well." Hogan said from downstairs. LeBeau quickly leaned over the bed frame and looked inside. The Colonel held the Corporal in his arms. LeBeau's heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of his lover. The Englishman was pale and trembling badly. The white camouflage clothing clung to him tighter than LeBeau remembered.
"What happened!?" He exclaimed in shock as he watched Hogan sling Newkirk over his shoulder and carefully, so as not to hurt the Englishman, climbed the ladder. Kinchloe helped him with the corporal.
"Trésor?" LeBeau asked worriedly and in his French accent.
"I'm fine, Louis." Newkirk whispered wearily. He leaned weakly against Kinch's shoulder. The Frenchman slowly took Newkirk's trembling hand and now realized that the Englishman was soaked through. He wrapped Newkirk's arm around his shoulders and supported him to his bed. It was a little difficult, since LeBeau was a full head shorter than Newkirk and could only see his collarbone with his eyes, when he didn't rise his head.
"Put him on my bunk." Carter said quickly since Newkirk slept on the top bunk and Carter on the bed below. LeBeau nodded and did so.
"What happened, mon chéri?" LeBeau whispered in concern as he pulled Newkirk's blanket off the top bunk and wrapped it around Newkirk's shoulders, as the Englishman was still shaking. LeBeau gently stroked his cheek and took Newkirk's hand in his much smaller one.
"Carter was in charge of the route." Kinchloe said. LeBeau turned and looked at his friends, who were seated at the table that was right in front of the bed.
"You gave him the path as a task!?" LeBeau shrieked in shock.
"Yes." Hogan said and also came to the table with a cup of coffee. "Carter took the wrong turn."
"And led us onto a frozen lake." Kinchloe completed.
*20 minutes earlier*
"Are you sure we're in the right place, Carter?" Newkirk nagged. He was cold and his feet ached from the long walk they had did. Besides, he wanted to his boyfriend Louis.
"Yes." The American nodded confidently and continued to lead his friends through the darkness. They trudged through the knee-deep snow. The only light came from the moon, which was pretty bright today as it was full moon. The white snow glittered under their feet.
"That's not how we got here, though." Kinchloe stated as they came to a halt in front of a large frozen lake.
"It's a shortcut." Carter said proudly, looking at Colonel Hogan.
"I don't think we should go over here, Colonel." Kinchloe said in his calm voice. "We don't know if the ice will hold us."
"But it's a shortcut!" Carter exclaimed, looking offended.
"If I had liked it cold, I would have transferred to the Russian front." Newkirk grumbled.
"Alright, hold it!" Hogan shouted and the men fell silent immediately. "I'll go first. Does that calm you down?"
"But Colonel..." Newkirk began.
"No! We're taking this path now, Newkirk. The way around is much too long." The Colonel said determinedly and put his first foot on the ice. Then his second. He slowly entered the ice and made his way across it. Kinchloe followed him. Newkirk watched him skeptically.
"You heard what the Colonel said." Carter said, grinning at him with his playful smile. Newkirk glared at him. "Oh. Are you scared?" Carter teased, stepping onto the ice as well.
"I'm not!" Newkirk exclaimed indignantly and followed his team. Carter and Newkirk quickly caught up with their superior and were now behind Hogan, along with Kinch. The American slowly put one step in front of the other and everything seemed fine.
"The idea wasn't even that bad, Carter." Kinchloe grinned. "We'll save ourselves 30 minutes that way." Carter smirked, satisfied to be complimented. Newkirk rolled his blue eyes and walked past them.
"Stop!" Hogan shouted in shock. He was two meters ahead of his men and stood stock still on the ice. His arms stretched out to the side.
"What's going on, Colonel?" Kinchloe asked worriedly, but then they all heard a crack. And one more quickly afterwards. Cracks formed under Hogan.
"Get back!" Hogan yelled, trembling as he slowly shifted his weight onto his left leg.
"Colonel!" Newkirk yelled, wide-eyed, and before the ice could collapse under the Colonel, Newkirk jumped on top of him and pushed him aside. Hogan landed hard on the ice and looked in shock at the hole where you could see bubbling bubbles.
"Newkirk!" He cried, crawling towards the hole.
"Shit." Kinchloe cursed as he also crawled toward the hole. Hogan reached into the hole, far enough that his cheek touched the water. The cold liquid felt like a thousand pinpricks against his skin. But he was lucky and pulled his corporal onto the ice. Newkirk was coughing heavily and shivering from the cold. "Fucking hell." Cursed Kinchloe out of breath, while looking down at his soaked friend.
*Back to barrack 2*
"Oh, mon chéri." LeBeau whispered, wide-eyed, rubbing Newkirk's arms. The Englishman was still shaking from cold.
"I'm so sorry, Newkirk." Carter said softly.
"You totally should, you damn idiot!" LeBeau yelled angrily, looking at the American pilot.
"Stop fighting!" Hogan said. "Just keep him warm and he'll be fine tomorrow. LeBeau, you and Newkirk can sleep in my office tonight. It's a little warmer there."
"Thank you, mon Colonel." LeBeau smiled. He slowly helped Newkirk up. "Come on, Pierre." He led his boyfriend into the office and sat him on the bottom bunk. Then he quickly got Newkirk's oversized nightgown and his own pajamas. He put some wood in the small oven. Hogan had fetched his red pajamas and slept in Newkirk's bed.
"I love you, Louis." Newkirk whispered, looking at him sadly.
"I know. I love you too, Pierre." LeBeau smiled softly, kissed his forehead and then stripped off his wet clothes. "Arms up, mon chéri." Newkirk raised his arms and LeBeau slipped his nightgown over his shoulders. He gently rubbed Newkirk's black hair with a towel so that it was only damp. Then he changed his clothes himself and lay down on the bed. Newkirk lay trembling next to him. LeBeau tucked them both in and gently pulled the Englishman to himself. Usually, he was the one Newkirk hugged. "Looks like I'm the big spoon today." LeBeau grinned and pulled the much taller man into his arms. Newkirk hid his face in the crook of LeBeau's neck and was still shaking. "Sh. It's good, Pierre." The Frenchman whispered, gently rubbing Newkirk's arms to warm him up in addition to the blankets and his body heat. LeBeau took Newkirk's hands and tucked them under his armpits to warm them.
"I love you." Newkirk whispered. LeBeau smiled a little. He knew that Newkirk probably still wasn't quite himself and was still in shock and freezing.
"I love you too, mon chéri." LeBeau whispered, kissing his damp hair gently. "I love everything about you, my Englishman." Newkirk had quickly fallen asleep in LeBeau's arms, even though he was much taller and holding him was a challenge for the small Frenchman. LeBeau could feel Newkirk's calm, warm breathing against his neck and also noticed that the Englishman had gotten a little warmer. "I love you more than anything, Pierre." He sighed smiling as the Englishman pressed closer to him. "My little ice princess." He chuckled softly before falling asleep too, while hugging him against his body.
THE END;)