Prompt: Stitches
Title: By Your Side
Fandom: Devotion (2022 movie)
Warnings: Blood, injuries, stitches, airplane crashes
Word Count: 2,451
Author's Note: This story takes place in 1950, during the early days of the Korean War. Though this story will draw from historical aspects, it will also draw on some of my own ideas and more alternate reality type scenarios. Also! I found this awesome ambience on YouTube (not mine!) that I wrote this story to! Have a listen while you read!
Synopsis: When the pilots Y/N spends countless hours alongside begin to practice in the new F4U Corsairs that their branch of the US Navy have been supplied in preparation of the Korean War, she finds herself amongst the uncertainty and nerves of it all, narrowly avoiding what could've very well been a complete catastrophe.
----
By Your Side
The rumblings of a brewing conflict overseas...
The paper work you'd only just seen a few weeks ago - a note about the introduction of some new planes for America's best pilots to learn how to fly.
In case they're called to action.
Sighing heavily, you take a sip out of the foam cup of water you'd grabbed previously, continuing your organizing.
Papers litter the desk in front of you, the writing across them almost a blur to your fading, blurring gaze.
It had been another late night last night - he'd insisted that the pair of you stay up and spend some time together since the days are pretty much wrapped up in work and constant duties.
And you get it.
You're equally as worried about what could soon become reality.
A reality that this Navy, these pilots, need to be prepared to face, head on, by learning every possible inch of these new additions to the fleet.
The Vought F4U Corsair.
Beautiful machines - anyone even not associated with the Navy could tell you that much.
But, though beautiful, they're tricky.
"I can't see as much as I'm used to," Jesse Brown, one of your closest friends since being posted to the Quonset Point air station, had explained to you after his first test flight, your smaller figure having a slight difficulty keeping up to his longer strides across the tarmac.
"Yeah, it's certainly gonna take some getting used to, there's no doubt about that," Tom Hudner, your boyfriend, had chimed in, his boots hitting the ground with a thud as he'd practically leaped from his own plane, running to join you and Jesse on your way in for the usual debrief.
"You'll have to have quite a bit of faith in your instruments," You'd mused over the roar of the rest of the squadron taxiing to a halt farther down from where you'd just been.
Jesse had just sighed heavily and hurried ahead, leaving both you and Tom in his wake.
Shrugging away your thoughts, you once more vainly attempt to focus on the papers and file folders in front of you, only to fail miserably, dragging a palm down your face with an exaggerated sigh.
"You doing okay, there?" A familiarly teasing tone sounds from the doorjamb of the small office you usually keep so tidy, your gaze raising to meet the source of the voice.
A soft smile tugs at the edges of your lips as you allow your eyes to wander over the welcoming figure of the man who'd kept you up so late last night, the foggy memories of his touch and warmth sending a slight shiver dancing down your spine.
Tom Hudner is clad in his usual flight attire, a plain pair of slacks and a dark brown leather bomber jacket, his helmet held idle in his grasp, his shoulder resting comfortably as he leans against the wooden doorframe, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.
"You're hilarious," You grumble with a light laugh, pushing the chair you sit in away from the desk and making your way to your feet, nearing where your pilot stands. "I have to get these files all sorted by the end of the day today, though I can't say I'm making much progress."
Gesturing to the mess, you sigh, though you offer a grin.
"Other than that, though, I'm doing just fine."
"You're not tired?"
Scoffing, you elbow your boyfriend playfully as you pass him by, earning a huff of confusion from him as he hastily follows, falling into step at your side.
"You already know the answer to that question, Lieutenant," You chuckle, the pair of you making quick work of navigating the familiar hallways, barely slowing down as you step out onto the tarmac, the brilliant afternoon sunshine shining down on you.
There's a certain buzz of excitement in the air as you trail after Tom slightly, watching him group up with the other pilots from afar.
Today's their second day training on the Corsair.
Yesterday had been filled with nerves and unease, but today...
Something seems different.
There's still plenty of room for error, he'd explained it to you last night.
"Too much throttle coming in on approach and she'll flip on a dime almost instantly," His gaze had gotten dark for a moment, expression solemn. "Someone's bound to make that mistake sooner or later."
You're just praying that today isn't the day.
Shrugging yourself from your thoughts, you wave to the pair striding down the asphalt, their white helmets in hand, their others being raised to wave back towards you, a certain warmth swelling within you.
"Just get back down here in one piece," You mumble aloud to no one in particular, the familiarly comforting sound of all the planes on the air field starting up, reaching your ears and setting you at ease slightly as you wander absentmindedly back the way you'd came taking a seat on the rather ancient, unstable looking chair sitting outside the main door.
Finishing those files can wait...
For now...
Your thoughts trail off as you sink in the uncomfortable seat, the cool breeze blowing softly against your cheeks as your gaze wanders the heavens, watching silently as each plane leaves the ground with such grace and beauty, it never fails to make you wonder how in the world such a machine can be tamed and learnt by mere men.
Even though sometimes, that man can fail.
****
The sound of many propellers growing louder with each passing moment is what wakes you from your momentary slumber, your now slumped figure rightening slowly in the chair you'd fallen asleep in, your eyes blinking a few times to clear the grain from them.
On the horizon are two sleek looking aircraft, seeming to begin their approach.
"How long was I out?" You mutter lowly, mentally scolding yourself for falling asleep.
If they'd been back already, they would've woken me on their way past, one way or another.
"Y/N!" A sudden cry of alarm catches your attention, your gaze switching from the skies above to the tarmac below where another duo of the same aircraft are already stopped and silent, their pilots in the process of leaving them behind.
Pilots that you instantly recognize as you clamber from your seat, making your way towards them with a smile and a wave, curiosity pricking your thoughts at how their flights went.
But, their hands are moving in a rather frantic fashion, shouts incomprehensible falling from their lips and meeting you ears as nothing but noise.
And then there's a new noise.
One propeller and engine sounding louder and closer than the rest.
You come to a halt in your tracks, casting your gaze to the heavens, eyes widening in shock.
A Corsair is coming in for landing far too slowly, anyone could tell that.
ANd as you stand there, unable to do much more than watch the scene unfold in front of you, your friend's worried shouts merely a distant drone, the pilot at the stick of this particular plane falls prey to the machine.
Too much throttle...
The once pristine looking feat of engineering instantly flips on a dime, almost simultaneously bursting into flames and splintering apart, the noise of metal screeching against concrete leaving a ringing in your ears.
A ringing that only gets worse as somehow, your legs are swept out from underneath you, your body being sent reeling as your back hits the ground, a cry of agony being involuntarily pulled from your lips.
The noise is deafening.
Screams, sirens, the constant hum of the rest of the Squadron likely veering off the now debris littered runway...
"It's okay, you're okay," A voice coos as vague sounding footsteps hurry to where you lie, the vibration of their weight resonating with your crumpled figure.
Okay? Of course I'm okay... Wait a second...
"Lift on three, ready? One, two, three-" Another voice strains as a certain weight is suddenly lifted off of your chest, the same cry of pain from earlier once more being dragged from your lips.
Your headspace is beginning to cloud over, your eyesight almost permanently failing you.
Though you will your eyes to open one last time as you feel the hands of unconsciousness grab at your shoulders, your hazy gaze resting heavily on two familiar features.
Tom and Jesse are at your side, both peering down at you with looks of such concern and compassion, you would scold them both for being so worried over you.
But as you feel yourself begin to slip away, a searing pain beginning to throb in your right calf, you mentally chuckle weakly.
Maybe their concern is justified this time around...
****
Her head hits his thigh with a heavy thud, practically falling completely limp as he pulls her form closer to his chest, desperately hoping those eyes of hers would flutter open any moment now.
He'd seen it happen.
They both had.
That's why they'd come down first.
To get her stubborn figure back inside and out of harm's way.
But, they'd been a few moments too slow.
The pilot behind the stick of the Corsair that had been on approach had given the winged beast too much throttle - a deadly mistake that now cost him his life...
And maybe another.
"We've got to do something about that wound on her leg," Jesse's unwavering tone pulls Tom from his thoughts, his clouded gaze raising to meet his wingman's and then back down to her crumpled figure, blood gradually staining the pavement beneath them. "She passed out from the shock and pain, no doubt."
Resisting the urge to snap at his friend, Tom just sighs, gesturing to the heaping ball of twisted wreckage with First Responders gathered around it.
"Try and get their attention over here, will ya?"
"They're trying to-"
"Recover a dead man's body! We have a living and breathing woman right here!" The distraught pilot exclaims, sighing sharply, his eyes once more resting heavy on his wingman. "Please, Jesse."
The Ensign seems to pause for a moment, almost as if he's pondering his next actions over, before taking off at a sprint towards the wreckage.
"I'm not leaving your side until you're back on your own two feet," Tom murmurs softly, knowing right well that even if she can't hear him, his promise will be upheld as long as he's able.
****
"I'm not leaving your side until you're back on your own two feet."
A familiar voice had echoed in and out of your floating state, only to now come drifting back to you in a complete, comprehensible sentence.
You're slow to come to, the steady drone of anxious chatter and hurried movement luring you from the depths of unconsciousness.
Blinking a few times, wincing against the light and the grit in your eyes, a broken sigh of relief falls from your chapped lips.
Two familiar figures are standing at the doorway of whatever small room you're cooped up in, their expressions appearing rather grim but hopeful as they exchange hushed words with a man clad in medical attire, a rather beat up looking metal box marked with a bright red cross on the front of it in his grasp, also gaining your attention.
"Tom," You hear your hoarse and raspy voice call aloud, the wavering of it making you wince.
Though it almost instantly catches the pilot's attention, his familiar figure appearing at your side seconds later.
"Y/N," He breathes, a tone of such relief in his voice it makes your heart ache as his fingers brush over your sweat matted forehead, brushing aside the few stray pieces of hair back behind your ear.
You lean into your boyfriend's touch as if it's the most valuable thing in the world, offering a thankful smile to his wingman as he nears, having bid a farewell to the man the pair had been chatting to previously.
"Glad you're in one piece, ma'am," Jesse grins, offering a cup of water which you gladly accept with slightly shaky hands, the cool liquid a welcome sensation against your dry and chapped lips.
"Me too," You murmur, glancing to the blond at your side. "What happened, Tom?"
Your boyfriend just smiles softly, shaking his head.
"A piece of debris hit you. Left a pretty nasty gash on your calf," He explains, gesturing to your right calf, which, as your own gaze travels down across your body, surprised to discover the wounded limb to be covered in fresh bandages, a dull throbbing present there.
"The Doc stitched you up, that's who we were talkin' to when you came back around."
Tears begin to well in your eyes as you meet Tom's gaze once more, compassion and relief shining within it.
"Thank you - both of you."
The pair just exchange a knowing grin.
And as Jesse leaves the pair of you to yourselves, his footsteps echoing down the hallway until they're no longer audible, you simply lie there, attempting to fully understand the events that had just transpired over the past few hours.
"You guys lost a pilot today," You muse solemnly, breaking the silence that had settled.
"A good one, too," The man at your side sighs heavily, pulling up a chair and grasping your hand in his, your gaze not leaving his as he gives it a squeeze. "But I didn't lose you. You're all stitched up and on the mend. That's all that matters."
A light and comfortable silence settles between the pair of you once more, though you're quick to break it once more, a light laugh being pulled from your lips.
"I guess I'm not getting those files sorted by the end of the day, after all."
Tom just chuckles, leaning down and leaving a soft kiss against your forehead.
"They're not going anywhere. For now, you need to rest."
"And you? What are you doing?"
"I'm not going anywhere," He assures, making his way to his feet, the chair squeaking against the tile floor. "But, I do need to add my testimony to the accident report, so I'll go get that and come right back."
"Okay," Is all you respond, settling back against the uncomfortable cot, sinking back into the slightly itchy pillows, watching as he begins to head towards the door.
But, you stop him in his tracks, your voice beginning to vocalize only to be cut short as he turns back around to face you, a compassionate grin upon his features.
"Get some rest, Y/N."
And with that, you allow Tom's footsteps to fade away, knowing that he won't break his promise.
He's not going anywhere.
He'll be back.
And right by your side once more.