A/N: Thanks to Fanarts for the plot bunny and the wonderful banner. This story is as yet unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine (and word-count is probably not at 100 words per drabble because my program and Google Drive can never agree on the counts). I’m posting this anyway in honor of the 70th anniversary of D-Day.
~*~*~*~*~
“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! I’m going down.”
“Roger-”
Smoke. Sparks. Fire.
Dex dead.
No time.
Jump. Jump. Jump!
Black.
Mayday! “Mayday.” John groans, eyes fluttering open briefly before slamming shut again, blocking out the swaying ground beneath him.
Bright lights, pinpricks at first, but getting closer. Voices getting louder.
“-suchen! Der Kommandant-”
Crap. John stifles another groan. Gotta move. Hide.
Except John’s still in his chute, dangling precariously from a tree. Shifting carefully, he tries to reach for the release, only to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. Okay, dislocated, maybe broken. Not good.
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