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Heartstopper AU loosely based on While You Were Sleeping. Lonely ticket-seller Charlie Spring falls into a fake engagement with a handsome commuter after saving him from the tracks. But while the man lies comatose in the hospital, Charlie finds himself genuinely falling for his brother, Nick
Falling for Hogan’s Heroes Day 7
Andrew Carter’s Background Story
From a young age Andrew Carter knew, from his grandma, how important a person’s hair was.
From a single strand of hair the past can be revealed.
Hair linked one to the spiritual. In cultures around the world it is revered as a connection to the intangible spirit that lives inside.
For Lakota, hair held power and strength. Andrew Carter’s grandma told him stories of the warriors of their people whose long hair made them stronger and heightened their senses allowing them to see and hear things without using their eyes or their ears.
He begged her to let him grow out his hair, just a little, but she would always purse her lips and shake her head, letting him know that his daddy would not approve of such a thing.
It was a wonder that his father let Andrew and his mother have any communication with the tribe, he wasn’t the best of men. He would often use his wife’s culture against her and mock Andrew relentlessly for showing any pride in his native heritage.
Looking back, Andrew realized that his grandma was probably the only reason he knew he was descended from the great Chief Sitting Bull. She was such a strong woman.
Strength, that he wished he had.
When his dad had the opportunity to send him away from her influence , all the way to Indiana to take over his brother’s drug store, far away from the reservation and everything native, the coot jumped at the opportunity.
What the old man didn’t know was that sending Andrew away would only deepen the boy’s love for all things ‘Indian.’
Barely 18, Andrew, with his head full of the books he threw himself into and a heart full of love for his language and tribal pride, Andrew Carter made heads turn with his beads and ever lengthening hair.
He finally knew what his grandma had meant.
He loved catching a glimpse of the shadow of his hair on a breezy day, it was like if his hair was communicating with the spirits all around him. When he was sad, he imagined the wisps were crying out to the Great Spirit for help and guidance.
The day he was able to finally get a decent braid going Andrew couldn’t be happier.
Of course, he got some odd looks and some well meaning church ladies trying to convince him that he would look so much more respectable if he’d just ‘look more normal’.
But Andrew Carter had quickly made a name for himself, he gained the respect of the small town with his cheerful heart, warm smile, and helpful remedies.
It was only a couple years before the world turned upside down, with the bombing at Pearl Harbor and the start of American involvement in the war in Europe, Andrew Carter left the drugstore in the hands of a dear friend he had made. A man in his late 60’s who helped Andrew without fail anytime he had needed it in the past few years. Andrew trusted with his drugstore, and his life. The man had even promised to help look after Mary Jane.
Andrew had been shocked when Mary Jane had shown interest in him and he was even more shocked when she had agreed to be his girl. She was an angel of a girl with the brightest eyes and gentlest of smiles. Even though he was sad to be leaving her behind, he knew what he had to do.
He could have married her before he left, but some voice deep inside him urged him to not make her pine even more after him, so he gave her a promise ring right before he went into the recruitment office.
Having heard what the Nazis were doing in Europe, he wasn’t going to sit around and eventually get drafted anyway. He was a warrior from a warrior people and he was ready to fight for freedom. He knew what it was like to be oppressed by a government and if given the chance to do something about that, he was not going to shy away.
Andrew was surprised, but he was one of the first in town to enlist. The recruiter at the desk told him if he could get a few more young men to sign on it would be a good for his military record, so Carter smiled and went to the drug store and talked 5 other young men into enlisting.
The Sergeant in charge of recruiting about choked when he saw the gaggle of sturdy young men following in the one who had braids in his hair. He marked a note that the young man had a knack for leadership.
After having had the freedom to do whatever he wanted with his hair, he almost shed tears as the army barber sheared his head. But he knew this was what he needed to do.
All through boot camp and beyond, Carter held his own, he was strong, quick to catch on, and a laugh to be around, but he struggled. He’d always been a bit on the clumsy side and a bit socially awkward, and being on the spot as he was, that shone through.
When he finally shipped out to England, he did so as a Corporal and he was very proud of that, most of the others were only privates or some lucky guys were PFCs.
He for the most part stayed quiet and did his job so as not to call too much attention to his flaws.
He was surprised that he loved it as much as he did, but he quickly became one of the most knowledgeable and enthusiastic bomb technicians. He even was asked to sit in with comities to help develop better equipment and devices.
But he had signed up for the action. Allied High Command were not anxious to loose him and flight crews had a short life span, but the Technical Sergeant wouldn’t stop applying for a position as a bombardier, so eventually they let him have his wish.
Being in the air, he’d never felt so alive, all his fears and struggles seemed small and insignificant. It was a wonderful feeling.
One mission after another he became more and more sure that he never wanted to leave the sky.
18 missions were perfect, 18 missions were a job well done, 18 missions and Andrew Carter somehow was now an officer. He couldn’t believe it! No one back home could make fun of him now, not even his father!
But Andrew’s 19th mission ended in failure. The plane went down. He deployed his parachute. He was captured and sent to a POW camp.
Andrew was miserable, not even a week there, he knew he had to escape. And so he did. Since he was an officer, he hated to do it, but he made sure he was on the short list to get out.
He thought they were crazy, an operation like they had right under the German’s noses. This Stalag 13 crew had to be out of their minds! Didn’t they want to leave? Of course they did, but duty and their mission to help others trumped their personal wants. He admired that.
As he saw their operation, he saw opportunity. Opportunity for something more.
He convinced London to send him back, as a Sergeant, to help Hogan and his men expand on their escape mission and help them become a sabotage unit.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Hi!! Chapter 5 is finally posted of my AU- What if Stan stuck around after getting thrown out? What if he tried finishing high school on his own and showing his family he wasn’t a worthless screw up, that he could make it on his own?
It’d be cool if anyone checked it out or gave some feedback. I have some ideas for the future, but I always love talking it out with others first, too! Thanks :D
Falling for Hogan’s Heroes Day 3
Will cross post on Fanfiction dot net (LightShiner14).
Summer at Stalag 13
There was nothing like late July. The birds were chirping and the woods were full of tasty berries, and the men were able to enjoy their time outside instead of freezing their tail feathers off. And conniving Colonels were full of wonderful ideas.
“Colonel Hogan, there is no way I will let your men go on nature hikes through the woods!” Colonel Klink slammed his palm on the desk. The American was simply insane, that was the only answer.
“Aw, come on Colonel, have some heart, these poor boys just want some room to stretch their legs!”
“And find a way to escape, no, absolutely not!”
“Ok, well then, how about a guards vs prisoners 4 on 4 volleyball tournament?”
“Why can’t it just be prisoners vs prisoners?” Klink huffed.
“Because then it wouldn’t be as fun! Come on Colonel, let the boys have some fun and hey, wouldn’t this be a great way for the illustrious Luftwaffe to showcase their superiority?”
“Uh huh, uh huh, you make a point. Now Hogan, if I would let you do this, do you promise me that your men won’t use this as some scheme to escape?”
“On my word as an officer and a gentleman,”
“Mhm, Mhm, last time you gave me your word as an officer and a gentleman, you told me my car would be ready, and it wasn’t!”
“That’s a different matter entirely Kommandant. If you remember correctly, you wanted it washed AND waxed, and that takes a good amount of time if you want it done correctly sir.”
“Hogan!” Colonel Klink raised his fist in annoyance.
“Come on Colonel, just this once, let the boys have some fun!”
“On one condition,”
“What’s your price?”
“German’s serve first.”
“Sounds fair enough to me.”
“Good, have your volleyball tournament, but don’t be surprised when none of the guards sign up!” Klink sniffed before dismissing Hogan. Insufferable American. A volleyball turnament, really? The nerve.
As it turned out Klink was unsurprisingly wrong, most of the guards, even good old Schultzie desired to sign up. The whole camp was abuzz with excitement at the prospect of the 50 cigarette prize to be shared amongst the winning team.
“No Andrew, you cannot be on my team, I plan on winning this bloody match, and with a busted flipper like you, there’s no way I’d even have a shot!” Newkirk declared adamantly.
“Aww come on Newkirk, then whose team am I going to be on? I thought we were buddies, pals even. Is that how you treat all you pals? That’s plain rotten, just rotten!”
“You can be on my team Carter,” Kinch chuckled, he was just wanting to have fun with it and didn’t care how long he’d stay in the bracket, so he could afford Carter on his team even if he was as Newkirk said, a bum flipper. He wanted to snort. The kid was terrible at Volleyball. The best he’d done the last time they played was trip backwards landing on his back, the volleyball spiking off his face and being hittable to be set and then spiked into the other side, and that was pure luck.
“Thank you Kinch, see Newkirk, that’s how you be a real pal!” Carter huffed.
Hogan shook his head from across the room, it was so good to see his men so excited and focusing their energy on something light hearted and not worrying for once. Everyone needed this break.
“Colonel, will you be on my team sir?” Newkirk flashed the Colonel a winning grin.
“I already volunteered myself to be a referee, sorry Newkirk,”
“But guvna, my whole strategy planned on you being on my team!” The man looked devastated.
“Sorry Newkirk, maybe see if Ohlendorf over in barracks 12 hasn’t been snatched up, he always seems like he knows what he’s doing,”
“Johns from 8 already sniped him,” Garlotti informed the demoralized Englishman as well as his CO.
“Bollocks.” Newkirk grumbled.
“What about Addison from 6?” Kinch tried to be helpful.
“Got a twisted ankle,”
“Bell’s not too bad, what about him?” Garlotti tried to help.
“Ohlendorf made Johns take Bell too if he’d be on his team,” Carroll chimed in.
“Bloody hell, see Colonel, you’ve got to help me!”
“You’ll find someone Newkirk, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Colonel Hogan shook his head good naturedly.
Sure enough Newkirk found his fourth man, and he was sure he’d found an absolute diamond in the rough. Corporal Sterling, apparently the man was an absolute volleyball legend before the war, so Newkirk settled for that.
The prisoners and guards alike had more fun than anyone could have even predicted.
There were more prisoners than guards, so there were many rounds where it was prisoners vs prisoners, but Colonel Hogan made the bracket to assure that the guards would have at least one spot in the final four, it only seemed fair.
“Gents, this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for! We’ve laughed, we’ve cried, but now is the time to show which team is the greatest in all of Stalag 13!” Carter announced dramatically.
A bunch of cheers and friendly boos were heard throughout the conglomeration of young men soaking up the excitement as well as the warm sunshine.
“Team Fish ‘n Chips, is up against Team Fighting Wolpertinger for the final matchup of this epic showdown of skill and glory!”
The crowed roared with variations of excitement and playful bashing.
“We all know the rules, so let’s have fun, and may the best team win!”
It was a close game, Newkirk, Sterling, Baker, and Thompson were giving it their all, and across the net, Langenscheidt, Gebeck, Regeldorf, and Doneckh we’re playing their best game ever, moving like a well greased machine.
Bump, set, spike, bump, set, spike, over one side of the net to the other and back again, bump, set spike, dig, set, spike, block, bump and over. The ball was hardly ever hit the ground, it was actually quite impressive.
“Fighting Wolpertinger serves the ball, it’s deep, and it looks like it’s going to be out of bounds folks, oh no! It’s not, and Sterling dives and keeps the ball in play, Newkirk setting it up for Baker who gets the ball over the net with a spike that is out of this world, can Gebeck dive and get the ball back in the air, NO HE CAN’T game point for Fish and Chips! What an incredible match, 26, 24, five sets in all to get them on top winning 3-2 and that folks is the conclusion of Stalag 13’s camp Volleyball tournament!”
As the men all cheered and celebrated, even the Germans seemed to join in, it had been a fantastic game and no one could question that everyone had fun and the best team had won.
“You know Newkirk is going to be insufferable now, right Colonel?” Kinch chuckled as he watched from beside his CO as all of Newkirk’s team was being raised up and carried on the shoulders of their fellow prisoners.
“Oh I know, but it’s worth it to see everyone so happy, to forget that there is a war on for just a moment,”
“You sure don’t forget though, do you?”
Hogan heaved a sigh, “can’t hardly afford to. But the men, they needed to burn off some steam,”
“If we’re still here next summer, we should do this again,”
“Let’s hope that’s not the case, but maybe a fall tournament would be in order,”
“I think the men could get behind that,”
“All I would need to do is convince Klink that the guards want a rematch,”
“They seem happy to have just been able to participate,”
“It’s crazy how even in the middle of a war, we are all just children inside.”
Falling for Hogan’s Heroes Day 4
Ahh, I fell behind 😫 anyway, prolly will eventually cross post on fanfiction dot net (LightShiner14)
I could have shot you for that
“Carter! Where are you going?” A frantic Schultz waddled as fast as his legs would carry him to the American who was just walking out in open sight on the compound much after dark and hours after all the prisoners should have been asleep.
“Oh, hi Schultzie!” The younger man waved with a bright smile, “beautiful night isn’t?”
“Carter! What are you doing?” Hissed the rotund guard.
“Oh you know, just looking at the stars, look, you see that right there?” He pointed to a conglomeration of stars in the sky. “That’s Oceti Sakowin,”
“Carter!” Schultz hissed again.
“That’s what my grandma taught me it was called when I was 4, it translates into English as Seven Council Fires,” Carter ignored the German trying to keep his attention.
From Schultz’s body language he could tell that the guard was starting to cave. “I could have you shot for this! Being outside after lights out, there are rules!” The chastisement was half hearted.
“Come on Schultzie, I never get to look at the stars anymore,”
Schultz looked around and seeing that no one was paying them any mind, so the man sighed and shaking his head muttered something about boys being crazy under his breath before glancing up at the night sky. He had to admit, it was a very clear night. “We call that Großer Wagen, which means the great wagon,”
Carter snickered a little, “when I got to school, my science teacher in 2nd grade told me it was called the Big Dipper, isn’t that silly?”
“Americans,” Schultz chuckled.
“I love looking at them, my grandma calls stars the holy breath of the Great Spirit,”
“Wow, that is beautiful,”
“I agree, when I miss her, I need to look at the stars, then I don’t feel as far away from her,”
“Is that why you are out? You miss your Oma?”
Carter nodded his head.
“No monkey business?”
“No, not tonight Schultzie,” he turned, and Schultz with him and pointed out another constellation putting Newkirk out of their line of sight as the RAF corporal hurried back across the compound from Klink’s office with the new German code book photographed.
“Night Schultz, good talking with you, I wish my dad had been as interested to learn about this stuff,” Carter patted the German’s arm speaking honestly.
“Carter! That is so beautiful” Schultz sniffled. “Thank you,”
“You’re a good guy, for a German,” Carter grinned and went back into Barracks 2 to hopefully be able to get some sleep.
Falling for Hogan’s Heroes Day 2
Will cross post eventually on Fanfiction dot net (LightShiner14)
Nightmares
After a long mission, everyone slid into their bunks absolutely exhausted. Newkirk wished he could just drift off into a dark nothingness on nights like tonight, but he was sure that the shadows lurking in the corners of his mind were once again not going to permit such a thing.
His eyes were so heavy, they were painful to keep open, but he fought off closing them until he could stave off the Sandman no longer.
“Boy! What did I tell you about sneaking out?” Newkirk immediately knew he was trapped in a dream, because he was looking at his old man, but he couldn’t smell the alcohol that he knew should be wafting from the greasy git’s breath.
That didn’t change the fear coursing through his veins as he tried to avoid the malicious gaze of his father.
“I-I didn’t mean to sir!”
“Sure you didn’t, you little piece of shit!” Peter was released from the death grip that his old man had on his shirt collar and thrown into the wall.
Peter tried to avoid looking at the window where his sister was sneaking back in. He hadn’t been out, but he pretended to sneak back in to attract the drunken man’s attention to keep it off his sister.
After he had walked in on the bastard trying to force her into bed a few weeks back, and Peter had tackled the sorry excuse of a man to the ground, little Peter tried everything in his power to not let his dear sister cross the man’s path again.
The aching he felt was weeks worths of exchanging fists, but it was all worth it for her sake.
Just when his sister was almost in the bedroom their father’s head turned and he saw poor Mavis tiptoeing, shoes in hand, one hand on the door.
“NO!” Peter shouted, inherently knowing what was coming next. “You bastard, hit me, bloody hell, have your evil way with me even, but leave her alone!” He tried to throw himself between the monster and his sister.
The girl ran and dove underneath the bed and Peter tried to divert the alcoholic’s attention away from her, but he was failing, there was nothing that he could do to help.
“Stop! STOP IT! Please, GO AWAY!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, but his feet were frozen in place and his hands were useless. His voice was getting further and further away and he felt light as air and was floating away, but he tried to swim back to try and help her, he had to help her. “STOP!”
He jolted awake panting and sweat dripping from his brow.
“Stop what? Newkirk, you look awful, what’s wrong?” A still half asleep Andrew Carter rubbed at his eyes having stood up trying to wake up the man who’s tossing and turning had shaken the bunk enough to wake him.
“Bloody Hell Andrew, you scared me right out me mind!” The still panting Britt put a hand to his chest, whispering so as to try not to wake anymore of the men sleeping inside barracks two.
“What were you dreaming about? It must have been bad? Was it about those pictures Colonel Hogan showed us about that other camp? The one they put all the Jewish people? Cuz I’ve been having bad dreams about that,”
“Carter, stop your bloody nattering on,” Newkirk put a hand over the American’s mouth. The kid was bound to wake the dead.
But Andrew brought up an excellent point. There were so many more deplorable things he’d been exposed to that he could be having nightmares about, but his never strayed from his family’s flat. How was that even possible?
Carter removed the hand covering his mouth and shocked Newkirk by climbing up into his bunk.
“What the actually hell do you think you’re doing?!” Newkirk hissed.
“Trying to help a pal out,” Andrew Carter rolled his eyes. He pulled out a small charm that looked woven from thread, with beads and feathers.
Chanting something quietly in a tongue Newkirk assumed was Carter’s native language, Carter moved the talisman to different parts of Newkirk’s head and chest, letting it rest longest over Newkirk’s heart.
“There, I’ve asked the Great Spirit to help with the bad dreams. And keep this, it’ll catch the bad dreams before they can enter your sleep. Gran sent it to me when I asked her to a while back.” The American folded it into the Britt’s right hand before climbing back down and sliding back into his own bunk.
Newkirk just laid there dumbfounded for quite a while, not sure what to think. He still hadn’t processed what had just happened when he started drifting back to sleep. And for the first time in a long time, Peter slept in peaceful nothingness.
Falling for Hogan’s Heroes Day 5
Rainstorm
“About time you got back Newkirk, we were all starting to think you got captured or shot!”
“Bloody Hell!” A dripping, sopping wet, and startled Newkirk put a hand to his chest taking a few breaths, water droplets flying as he did so to calm himself as he looked at a stern looking Sargent Kinch who had his arms crossed. “How long were you up waiting for me?”
“Long enough, roll call is in 15 minutes, hurry up before anyone else realizes how long you were gone.”
“It was storming so bad out there mate! I couldn’t see me own hands let alone a meter in front of meself!”
“I could hear it down here,”
“I’m back though, let me go dry off and change back, I’ll be back topside in a flash,” Newkirk was already trying to peel off the soggy clothing, his teeth starting to chatter as the cooler temperature underground made the wet clothing cold against his skin.
“Did you get it?” Kinch raised an eyebrow.
Newkirk tossed a pouch to the man the tinking of glass audible.
“Careful!” Kinch gasped as he caught it mid air with kid gloves.
“Thought you wanted me to hurry,”
“Hurry, not break all the penicillin left in the region!”
“Right,”
Once topside, he barely had time to put his pruned hands over the stove before Schultz barged in announcing morning roll call.
Newkirk’s face turned sour as he realized he’d just gotten dry to get wet again. No wonder Pneumonia was so rampant in the camp.
“Don’t worry about going outside. The Kommandant said that while it is raining, we will do head count inside the barracks to help avoid more cases of Pneumonia breaking out!” The German’s voice warbled accentuating certain syllables as he was known to do.
Newkirk thanked Heaven above for such a small miracle and he sighed with relief, maybe there was some hope left for humanity.
“Also, Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink wanted me to ask if there was any chance you could have your man Kinchloe come fix a leak in his bedroom?”
Kinch, who’d been awake all night wanted to groan, but he maintained a blank face. All he wanted was to be able to get some sleep.
“Can’t it wait Schultz?” Colonel Hogan tried to get his friend out of the task, at least so he could get a cat nap. The man’s red shot eyes bespoke how tired the Sergeant was.
“No. Kommandant Klink said he wanted it done immediately!”
Hogan sighed heavy enough for himself and Kinch. “Fine,”
The holes in Barracks 2 were irreparable. While Kinch was helping Klink with a minor inconvenience in the man’s closet that had gotten the German’s dress uniform only a fraction as soggy as Kinch himself was from dashing across the muddy sloshy compound; the rest of the Barracks was trying to plug holes with old bubblegum they had saved from their red cross packages.
“This’ll only hold for so long,” Garlotti grumbled.
“It’s better than nothing,” LeBeau sniffled, he’d gotten a touch of a cold. He had a blanket wrapped around him and a cup of hot water in his hands.
“If it’d finally stop pouring out there,” Carter was cut off by a deafening blast of thunder, “I could go out into the woods,” another clap of thunder, “tap some pines and make some tar,”
“Why didn’t you suggest that last week?” Garlotti raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t know it was going to be raining rabbits and raccoons like this,” at this point Carter liked to mix up common idioms just to get a reaction out of his buddies.
Garlotti snorted.
“Did you just bloody say rabbits and raccoons?” Newkirk sat up in his bunk, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
Carter nodded.
“Bloody hell,” he groaned and decided to lay back down. He was still too tired for human interaction.
Another crack of thunder and the whipping of the wind against the Barracks’ wall made the men shiver.
“Damn, what a storm!” Kinch stumbled into the Barracks looking much like Newkirk had earlier that morning.
The men rushed to get some supplies to get their friend into dry clothes and warmed up.
And the rain continued on like that for days and as it dragged on, the men felt more and more miserable.
But the rain, as all things do, can to an end, and like a visiting in-law, no one was sad to see it leave.
A Coffee Shop
Written last night before I went to bed. Borrows characters from xepher and radioactivebinaries, although they're only really mentioned and never talk.
