Entwined- Dunkirk fanfic

Chapter 12

The boat lurches forward, just as the seas shadow ignites. The cocktail of oil and water that coats the deck, sloshes around. Isabelle stumbles over her feet bashing straight into Collins, who'd tripped over several men already.
Groggily, Isabelle stands up, peering over the side the iridescent black mattress is washed away leaving the unspoiled milky spray, racing beside them. Behind her a cloud of ash pours up into the sky, putting out the sun for a brief moment as they charge away.
Based on the orange stain smudging across the sky they'd reach Dover by nightfall. Then what?
She hadn't planned for this, surviving, she'd known that there was no chance, no chance her worn, salt encrusted boot would ever hit the English coastline again. She was dead, no matter what, it would end with a bullet in her skull or a bomb falling on her back, but it hadn't. It had been a bearable thought because he would be there, their hands unacceptably close; but not touching, his soft eyes gazing into hers. And if he was dragged far below to some unknown place, she would fall with him. Not like this, now he was gone, taken to somewhere she could never go.
So what would she do with this gift of survival?
She knew by now that no one escapes war, they die on the beaches and in the hills only to be reborn for a half life, a cursed existence. She had lost everything but that life.

"Help me" a distressed voice calls, dragging her out of the vicious tornado of thoughts swirling in her mind. As her head whips around frantically searching for who'd spoken she notices Collins bobbing through the crowd of men, her eyes follow him as he makes his way to the side of the boat, then she recognises the voice.
The small boy, the captain's son, Peter, oh no.
His skinny legs desperately hug the side of the boat as he folds over it. Teetering like a set of scales, he slides forwards. Like some mythical hero, Collins grasps his feet and hoists him away from the ravenous, pale horses just in time. In shock his pale forearms shake uncontrollably, Isabelle rushes to help but is taken aback by the haunted mask etched into his features.
"Peter" she whispers tentatively,
He doesn't respond, instead continues to gape in horror at the sea around them.
One of Peter's surprisingly large, grimy hands grasps the rail, while the other wraps around a tanned, bony wrist. Stretching out from the wrist is a dark haired soldier. Bubbles stream out of his mouth as the water swirls around his face, causing his features to blend into a homogeneous mixture. From the cascade of white water and Peter's oily grip the young soldier was seconds away, from being swept with the waves.
"Haul him up" Isabelle calls.
Peter groans and Collins grasps the boy's forearm, as soon as his face clears the surface he sucks in a colossal gasp. If they hadn't been in a war zone saving someone from utter peril, Isabelle would be quite impressed that he managed to breathe a breath that large. Nevertheless, she digs her hands under his shoulders and together they hoist him onto the deck.

His limp and exhausted body lies almost paralysed between the rows of seated soldiers. As his bronzed face tilts slightly to the left, the soft black curls that coat his scalp peel gently of the drenched floor. There was something curious about him. As she inspects him obsessively, his dark eyelashes flutter until the lids flicker open, revealing a pair of abysmal brown eyes. For some absurd reason she longed for those eyes to be boring into hers, rather than gazing placidly at the horizon. Then unexpectedly he smiles. A wave of childish relief washes through his face, he squeezes his eyes shut and whisperers
"Take me home"

Was it the wind, or perhaps the rain mixing with that alluring voice. Twisting it around in her mind so like a lovesick dog she would dance right back into a heartbreak. Yet at her knees, the oil washed of his handsome face, he lies, breathing gently with the breeze brushing of his shoulders.
"Tommy" she gasps
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Told you guys he'd be back 😉
Sooo sorry this took so long, I had mock exams 🙄, but I hope you enjoyed it! I really wanted to get it published so I apologise for the quality.
Anyways, I just realised I don't hv a ship name for these guys, maybe like bemmy or tomabelle, nah actually tomabelle sounds like a soup brand 😂. Let me know what you think.

Fun fact (as always): Nutella was invented in WWII when hazelnuts were added to chocolate to make their rations last longer, hmm maybe Tommy made Nutella 😋🤨😂
Hope you're having a great day, thanks so much for reading, don't forget to vote and comment.
Sabine xxx