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2020-11-05
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The Sound of Thunder

Summary:

Hogans Heroes (slash, well kind of...)

Colonel Hogan and his men are captured by Hochstetter and he has to find a way to save them and tell Newkirk about his feelings for him at the same time.

Work Text:

1.      Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended. 

The Sound of Thunder

The nightly prison cell was so devoid of light and life that Hogan could have sworn he was completely alone.

And even though he knew well that his men lay sleeping close by, that was what he felt like. Cold and utterly lost.

A low cough just outside the iron bars he was leaning on told him that the guards had retreated but never left. Major Hochstetter had given them strict orders not to take their eyes of them, knowing too well how the American colonel and his team had managed to somehow get out of situations like these time and time again. Not this time though.

Hogan softly hit his head against the metal bars, careful not to make any noise. How could he have been so stupid? So reckless? They all lived and worked through each day with the knowing the risk and the possible consequences. Yet he had never really believed it would come to this.

Sure, he had told his men over and over how dangerous their missions were, but inwardly he had laughed at Klink´s stupidity and Hochstetter´s useless rage. Had told himself that it would be a cold day in hell before he saw the Majors frustrated grimace transform into a victorious smile.

Well, merry fucking Christmas.

As he closed his eyes in an attempt to get some rest, the events of the evening flashed across his mind in vivid colors.

*** “Hurry up, Carter, Kinch is waiting for us in camp.”, Hogan whispered and pulled his sergeants arm.

Next to him, LeBeau and Newkirk shifted nervously, their blackened faces all but invisible in the nightly forest. Next to them, their contact was getting impatient; his fingers twitched as if he was about to just rip the detonator out of Carters hands.  

“Just a sec.”, Carter mumbled as he fumbled with the detonator: “Tomorrow morning, Müller, when it´s time to blow up the munitions depot, you wanna press this button from no more than 50 feet away, otherwise it won´t work.” 

Müller nodded curtly and grabbed the device.   “You can count on me.”, he promised Colonel Hogan: “Thank you gentlemen, with this mission you might just have decided the war.”

“We´ll see about that in the moring.”, Hogan answered but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the men´s words: “Now we need to get going so we are in camp when the bomb goes off. Believe me, I can´t wait to see Hochstetter´s face.”

The men´s soft laughter was cut short when a dark voice suddenly came from above them: “You won´t have to wait, Colonel, it must be your lucky day.”  

They whirled around to see no other than Major Hochstetter and tree armed guards emerging from the trees. The major grinned at Hogan in glee: “Or maybe it´s mine.” Before Hogan had even processed what had happened, Müller suddenly spun around and dashed for the nearby  trees.

“Halt!”, Hochstetter shouted and motioned for his guards to fire. Several gunshots broke through the nightly forest, and birds shrieked in the air. One of the guards ran after Müller while the other two remained with their guns trained at Hogan and his men.

“Keine Bewegung!”, one of them shouted harshly, and the butt of his rifle connected hard with Newkirk´s temple. The corporal moaned in pain as his knees gave out and he dropped the gun he had apparently attempted to draw. Hogan whirled around and instinctively reached for his arm but was immediately shoved back by the other guard: “Hände hoch!!”

  Hogan, as well as Carter and LeBeau complied while Newkirk was roughly jerked to his feet and held at gunpoint as well.

“Well Major.”, he started talking in a light tone, the one he usually used with Hochstetter. Inwardly, his mind was reeling. His concern for Newkirk didn’t exactly make it easier for him to concentrate. They needed to get out of this situation fast, but how could they without killing Hochstetter? After all he´d seen their faces.  

What to do? What to do?

They couldn’t run anymore without risking one or more of them getting shot in the back. They couldn’t fight without weapons.

“Out for a midnight stroll as well, I see. It really is a small world.” Hochstetter scowled briefly, but his overall confidence didn’t falter. He knew he had the upper hand this time.

“Very funny, Hogan.”, he smiled: “Why don’t I laugh about it on the way to the car?”

He jerked his gun in the general direction of the street that Hogan knew was close by: “Los, los! Get moving!”

Hogan nodded at his men to oblige. For now, their only chance was to play along. Maybe they could come up with a plan once they were wherever Hochstetter planned to lock them up. Maybe Kinch would get worried and send backup, maybe…

He almost lost his balance when Newkirk was shoved forwards by one of the guards and slammed into his arm. This time he managed to break the corporal´s fall. “Schneller!”, the guard behind them barked and Hogan swiftly pulled Newkirk forward, not letting go of his upper arm as he followed Carter and LeBeau.

“You okay, Newkirk?” Instead of an answer he got a question. “´Ow are we getting out of this one, gov´nor?”, he whispered so close to Hogan´s ear that Hochstetter wouldn’t hear. The colonel´s grip around his arm tightened for a second, than he answered in his usual, seemingly carefree manner: “Just like we always do, Newkirk. Just like always.”

Newkirk´s eyes bored into the side of his face for moment but he didn´t object. Hogan made sure not to look straight at him. He wasn’t sure if his words had convinced the young corporal; after all he wasn’t so sure of them himself. ***

Hogan´s eyes flew open when a sudden noise disrupted his thoughts. He looked around the basement only to find the guards still out of sight and Carter and LeBeau dozing shoulder to shoulder by the opposite wall. His eyes found Newkirk, who was crouched about a foot to his left, his hands quickly retrieving a metal cup from the floor.

“Sorry, sir.”, he whispered, the apologetic expression on his face clearly visible despite the dark: “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He refilled the cup with water from the bucket they´d surprisingly received and held it out for Hogan. He took it gratefully and gulped some of it down.

“You didn’t.”, he then replied: “I was just thinking…”

“About what Hochstetter has planned for us or about how we´re going to escape?” Hogan frowned a little: “I´m pretty sure I know what Hochstetter´s up to. He just threw us in here and it´s been almost three hours since he left with that guard Weber. They´re looking for Müller out in the woods. And when they´re done, whether they find him or not, they’ll come back here for us.”

“Maybe it won´t be before morning. At roll call, Klink will know were missing and Hochstetter will have to bring us back to camp.”, Newkirk said hopefully.

“Not if he doesn’t know Hochstetter´s got us.”, Hogan answered absentmindedly, so low that no one else would hear it.

No point in getting everyone down with him. Because, there was no plan and as much as he wanted to believe in Newkirk´s scenario, the look in Hochstetter´s eyes had been hard to misinterpret. The man had spent countless days and nights trying to prove Hogan guilty of something, anything, and he surely wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

No, this wouldn’t be as easy as a few cheeky answers that didn’t deserve the term and a ride home in the morning.

Playtime was over. At least for them it was.

He had a feeling that it was just starting for Hochstetter.

His eyes flitted over to Carter and LeBeau who had crashed some time ago. As upset and nervous as they´d all been, the frequent nightly missions had taken their toll, and when Hochstetter had not come back even after hours, they´d finally given in to sleep. Newkirk had refused to fall asleep, knowing that Hogan would be up trying to figure out how to make it out of here.

But as much as Hogan appreciated that, it was pointless as neither of them had gotten any closer to an escape plan. Newkirk looked as tired as he himself felt as he suppressed a yawn. Despite his hopeful demeanor, his expression now gave away his worry and distress.

Hogan, once he had started watching him, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away anymore. Sitting there in the dark, with his hands ruffling his hair, the usually smart and confident man suddenly looked as frail as a leaf in the wind. The hopelessness of their situation came crashing down on Hogan with a force that almost knocked the breath out of him.

Hogan had to grab the cell´s bars to steady himself.

He couldn’t save them. He was their leader, the one they counted on, but there was nothing he could do this time. There was nothing he wanted more than to protect his men, protect Newkirk, throw an arm around him like he was prone to do, and tell him it would all be fine.

But he couldn’t. And maybe he never would again.

Not if Hochstetter had any say in his fate. And suddenly he knew he had to tell him, tell Newkirk, what he should have said a long time ago, before it was too late.

***Hogan couldn’t remember the excact moment he had fallen in love with Peter Newkirk. Maybe it had been on one of their more dangerous missions saving each other’s lives, maybe during their long nights of playing poker and talking about everything and nothing when the other prisoners had long since fallen asleep.

In retrospective, he had been standing in the barracks with the men, talking about some mission, one arm around Newkirk´s shoulders, when it had hit him. His grip had involuntarily tightened when he tensed and Newkirk turned to him in surprise.

“Everything all right, sir?”, he´d asked, his brows furrowed slightly, while Hogan gazed into his green eyes. Those beautiful eyes…

“Yeah…”, he finally managed to croak, fighting the shock of his revelation: “Sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

Now the other turned to look at him in concern as well. “Well, you just stopped talking in the middle of a sentence…”, LeBeau frowned, scrutinizing his colonels face. Hogan had dropped his arm like he´d burned it and had stepped up to the map in order to look professional:  “Sorry guys, I just figured out how to best steal those plans without raising suspicion…”

Luckily he´d had that idea before his lapse. He´d explained his plan to them, acting as he always did and had then hastily retreated to his office. None of them had noticed. Not that night and not after. Especially not Newkirk.

The days and weeks after this night, he had struggled with it. For quite a while he had even tried to consciously avoid his corporal, and to spend more time in bars with German girls. Then he had started to imagine it was Newkirk he was kissing instead and those endeavors ended abruptly. As much as he tried, there was no getting away from it, much less denying his feelings.

From that point on his confusion had been replaced by the fear of what would happen if the others ever found out. Would they ever look at him the same again? Would Newkirk?

No matter how uncertain he was about everything else, Hogan knew he couldn’t risk losing the corporal´s friendship and their time spent together. So he had kept quiet and acted as normal as possible.

Only when no one was looking had he allowed himself to stare at Newkirk, to imagine how it would feel to run his hands through his dark hair, to pull him close and see his feelings reflected in those brilliant eyes. It had nearly driven him mad, but it was still so much better than when he´d avoided him. Now he arranged for them to go on mission together more often than not; afterwards they would sometimes slip into the Hofbräuhaus for some beers and just relax. With the alcohol in his system, Newkirk would not notice Hogan’s hand lingering on him just a little too long, or find anything unusual in the way Hogan wrapped an arm around his waist just a little too tightly when he helped him keep his balance on the way home.

For a while he had almost believed that it would be enough for him to go on like this forever. That it would be enough for him to look at him, be close to him…

Until one night in December.

Carter, LeBeau and Kinch were out on a mission in Hamelburg, Newkirk had come down with a fever that morning and felt too weak to even get up. Colonel Hogan had unceremoniously shifted his job to Carter who grudgingly accepted, and then ushered Newkirk into his office so he could sleep in quiet. He himself had stayed behind as well, what with the mission´s target knowing his face.

It was late and outside his office door all was quiet; the team would not  return for at least an hour or so. Hogan had sat at his desk, a book in hand, blankly staring at the blurry letters in front of him, while really all he did was to listen to his corporal´s shallow breaths. The last thing he had wanted to do was to sit there and stare at Newkirk like a schoolgirl while the man was sleeping. Yet he couldn’t seem to help himself.

Newkirk´s face was slightly flushed from the fever, beads of sweat on his forehead. Still he was unbelievably beautiful to him.

Before he could stop himself, Hogan had dropped the book and walked over to the bottom bunk. He had kneeled down, one hand resting on the mattress beside the corporal´s arm, the other hovering inches over his face. Carefully he had run his fingertips over it, first across his cheek, then his jaw. He was just brushing some loose streaks out of his forehead when Newkirk´s eyes fluttered open.

To shocked to react, Hogan had remained frozen in his position while his brain produced mud instead of explanations for his behavior.

"Colonel Hogan?”, Newkirk had croaked, squinting his eyes with some effort. His eyes seemed glazed over, no doubt due to too much cough medicine. Wilson had provided him with it earlier in the evening and it seemed to be a little too effective.

“Where am…where is here?”, Newkirk murmured disoriented: “When is… now…?”

Hogan had let out a sigh of relief and then smiled at him with some amusement. Not only was Newkirk far from able to make any logical judgments, he also didn’t seem to notice the pause in which he finally made up a response.

“It´s okay.”, he said softly: “You´re in my office. I didn’t mean to wake you, I was just gonna see if your fever has gone down.“ Newkirk nodded with some delay.

“Did it?”, he asked sleepily. Hogan smiled, his hand still somewhat entwined in the other man´s hair: “You should be fine in a day or so. You´ll be back doing Carters job in no time.”

Newkirk snorted soflty: “Wouldn’t mind him doing it for a bit longer, blimey…”

His eyelids fell heavily over and over but he kept them open to return Hogan´s gaze. “Sorry for blocking your bunk…”, he said out of context, like he was about to doze off again.

“Don’t worry about it...”, Hogan risked trailing his fingers through his soft hair some more; Newkirk didn’t seem to notice: “I´m on top anyway.”

Newkirk chuckled subdued: “That’s what I thought, gov´nor, that’s what I thought…” It had taken Hogan a moment to figure out what he was talking about, and then the idea of Newkirk imagining him with some woman let the color rise to his cheeks.

”I don’t do that anymore, ya know?”, he heard himself say: “I can´t…”

What…?”, it didn’t sound like Newkirk was questioning his words, more like he´d lost track of the conversation. Good. Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

Hogan´s hand slipped down to gently cup the corporal´s cheek. At that moment, he didn’t care about the consequences anymore; he had walked on eggshells for too long, and it felt so good to just be able and sit there without hiding his true emotions. He knew that if Newkirk were lucid, he´d probably see the loving and longing look in his colonels eyes, one that was entirely different from the way he looked at his men, or at most women for that matter.

As it was, he just lay there relaxed, ready to fall asleep in the presence of his trusted superior. With a sudden surge of emotion, he let his head fall into the crook of Newkirk´s neck, his hands desperately clutching at the corporal´s face and shoulder. He had remained that way, his upper body probably smothering him, but unable to pull away.

 “If I could just tell you…”, he whispered brokenly, unshed tears burning behind his eyelids: “I wish…I wish…”

Newkirk hadn’t moved at all and when Hogan finally found the strength to look up at him again, he´d found him sound asleep.

He hadn’t kissed him after that; it would have felt too much like taking something that wasn’t his. He´d just stayed in his position until he heard low noises from outside announcing the return of the other men.

Only then had he gotten up, careful not to wake Newkirk, and left his office to greet them. He hadn’t returned to his office that night; instead he´d slept on Newkirk´s empty bunk, feeling somewhat giddy and incredibly guilty at the same time. The next morning, Newkirk didn’t even remember that they had a conversation. ***

“ - Sir?”

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts and he focused on the face he´d just imagined in his head. Newkirk was looking up at him tiredly, worry etched across his features:

“Maybe you should sit down for a while. You look awfully pale…”

He patted the floor next to him and Hogan’s body complied without hesitation. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he really was until his knees practically gave in. Newkirk´s shoulder was touching his own, a welcome source of warmth in the cold basement. So much more to him, though…With a soft moan, he leaned his head back and tried to compose himself a little before he launched into a speech he hadn’t had time to prepare yet. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers…

“Newkirk?”, he asked tentatively into the dark.

“Hmm?”

“Theres something I need to tell you, before…”, he didn’t finish the sentence, but sure that its meaning could not be mistaken.

 In response Newkirk grabbed his shoulder fiercely, all but shaking him. “Don’t start with that, colonel!”, he demanded with conviction: “We´ve always gotten away with everything, well find a way out this time too. That sodding major doesent know…”

Hogan interrupted him, by pulling newkirks hand from his shoulder; he didn’t let go of it, just squeezed it firmly. His corporal paused, confusion dawning in his eyes. He wasn’t used to seeing his ever-confident colonel this serious and it seemed to scare him more than anything else.

“Please just listen to me.”, Hogan said urgently: “I should have said something a long time ago, but I didn’t know how to…heck, I still don’t know…”

Newkirk just sat there, waiting clueless. It was obvious that he would have to be more specific in order for him to understand. Hogan clutched at his hand more tightly, and took one last deep breath.

“Peter, I-”

“I hope I´m not interrupting anything.”, a voice from behind them cut him short. Hoagn whirled around to stare into Hochstetters black, eager eyes. “I think I´ve kept you waiting long enough, gentlemen; it´s time we had a talk.”

End of first chapter. there will be three. thank you for reading:-)