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Chapter Text

The Day Before

Mr. Dawson maintained his hurried pace as he walked down to the cockpit of his small ship. He knew the navy officers weren't too far away and it wasn't helping that he still had more life vests to get on board before sailing off. Even with the help of his young son, Peter, and his son's friend, George, time wasn't completely on their side. He cursed himself not getting up before the crack of dawn to get this done.

He set the life vests down in the corner when he heard a loud thud followed by a groan coming. A female groan. 

She didn't, he thought to himself. 

He opened the door to the tiny room within the cockpit where his belief was confirmed - his 20-year-old-daughter, Elouise, sitting on the floor, rubbing her head. 

"I made it distinctly clear that you were to stay out of this!" he scolded pointing his finger at her. 

Elouise propped herself up from the floor. "I'm not getting off," she persisted. "I have just as much of a right to be on here as you and Peter." 

"This has nothing to do with having a right. You think you know what you're getting yourself into but you have absolutely no idea." 

"We're going to Dunkirk to help with the evacuation." She walked out of the closet. "What else is there to understand?"

Mr. Dawson grabbed his daughter's arm. "We're going into the middle of the war zone, Elouise. We are just as much at risk of being hit as any navy ship going out there already." When Elouise shook off his hand, Mr. Dawson drew a long breath. "It's not safe out there. Not for you." 

"Home isn't safe for me either," Elouise challenged. "Also, it's not safe out there for Peter. He's too young to be exposed to what's going on. Kids his age are on trains leaving the bloody country!" 

Unbeknownst to Mr. Dawson and Elouise, Peter had been watching them from above. He walked in to drop off life vests when he saw his dad and sister arguing. Upon hearing (what he believed was) his sister belittling his capability, he couldn't stay quiet any longer and burst out,"You're only going because you think he's there!" 

Mr. Dawson and Elouise turned to see Peter. Peter, seeing the rage in his older sister's eyes, realized he had gone too far. The very mention of him hit Elouise sharper and faster than any gun shot. Mr. Dawson turned to his son and pointed to George who watched from outside, right behind Peter.

"Go finishing packing," he instructed his youngest child calmly. 

Peter left without hesitation, George following closely. Mr. Dawson returned his attention to his daughter and the redness in her stern green eyes. 

"You could've just said that to me yourself," Elouise half mumbled as her gaze fell down to the floor. 

Mr. Dawson sighed, trying to gather his words carefully. "I just don't this to be any harder on you than it already has been. Than it already is. The crying at night, the lack of eating...I don't want to know what's going to happen when we get there and you find he's not there." 

Elouise stood her ground, choosing to ignore the the tear strolling down her cheek. She swallowed hard as she put her hand on her hips. "Then the least I could do is give some sort of relief to some other girl or woman who's waiting." She wiped her eyes with her index finger. "Besides, this can't be any easier for you. Not since...you know. 

He nodded knowingly. "Where does Mum think you are?" 

"With you. She wants me to look after Peter." 

Mr. Dawson raised his arms in defeat. "Then perhaps you better follow through."

Elouise walked past him and up to the deck of the ship. She grabbed the handful of life vests from George's hands and placed them onto the deck bench. When she turned around to grab more, she nearly ran into Peter. Peter lowered his gaze, hiding his shame. Elouise took the life vests from him. 

"Hey," she spoke up gently. Peter's eyes met hers as Elouise gave him a reassuring smile. "It's ok." 

Peter nodded his head as the two siblings continued helping George load the life vests. Once all the vests were on board, Elouise spotted navy officers approaching the boat slowly. She turned her head to Peter, signaling him to get their dad. Peter headed down to the cock pit while Elouise made her way to the till of the boat. She kept her eyes fixated on the naval officers as they inched closer. 

Once Mr. Dawson entered up from the cockpit, he went into the captain's area. He motioned for George and Peter to untie the rope before motioning Elouise to come to the captain's area. She stood next to him, the two of them watch the naval officers stare them down. 

As the boat began to sail off, George, who was supposed to stay behind, jumped back onto the boat. Mr. Dawson shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to the sea. 

"Make sure they don't go overboard," he instructed her. 

Elouise patted his shoulder. "Hence why I wore trousers." 

She sighed as she went back to the till of the boat. The wind blew through her shoulder length hair as she took in the aroma of sea salt. Her fingers twirled to the silver chain that wrapped around her neck, traveling down to the diamond ring that hung from the chain. The one that should have been on her finger.

As she set out to go check on Peter and George, a harsh buzzing sound from the skies that broke the gentle sounds of waves drew her attention. Her hands clasped onto the battens as she watched two Spitfires fly past them, most likely heading out toward Dunkirk. She remembered how he always wanted to fly in one of those things. She wondered if perhaps he was...or if he was just one of those thousands of other young men out on the beach waiting to be evacuated. 

Either way, all she could hope was that Farrier was alive and was waiting for her too.  

Chapter Text

Hours later... 

"He won't wake up." 

Elouise opened her eyes to see Peter standing before her. She looked over his shoulder to find George lying where she and Peter had placed him hours earlier. She prompted herself up from the little bed and knelt down beside George. His bandage was still wrapped tightly around his head from the damage. She reached out to touch him when her father's voice stopped her. 

"He's probably still sleeping it off," Mr. Dawson assured. "Let him have his rest." 

"But Dad-." Peter stopped when Mr. Dawson gave him a stern look. He closed his mouth and nodded his head obediently. Elouise, still kneeling, moved toward her brother. 

"We'll get him help when we drop the soldiers off," Elouise told Peter as she put her hand on his shoulder. 

Peter drew long a defeated sigh. "It's all my fault. I shouldn't have told him what Dad and I were doing." 

Elouise cupped her brother's face in her hands. "Peter, look at me." She looked around for a moment before returning her attention to Peter. Her tone was hushed. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You did not cause him to get hurt." 

A soft male voice cut into the room. "Is he alright?" 

Elouise and Peter turned to see him. Him was the soldier Mr. Dawson had rescued earlier in their trip when Peter spotted him and his broken down plane in the middle of the sea. He was a slender man with tousled dark brown hair, sickly pale skin, and blue eyes. Despite his normal appearance, Elouise was far from comfortable with him. Her suspicions were confirmed once her father had told him they were headed towards Dunkirk and the soldier went berserk, begging Mr. Dawson to turn back. Peter and Elouise decided to try to coax the soldier by giving him a cup of tea and putting him in the closet that Peter locked. After a couple hours, they could hear him banging on the door, demanding to be let out. Once Peter let him out, the soldier demanded once again Mr. Dawson turn around and when Mr. Dawson said "no", the soldier went after him in an attempt to grab the wheel of the ship. George had tried pulling the soldier away when he pushed George away harshly, causing the young boy to severely hit his head. Blood rushed out and Peter did his best to tend to his friend. The soldier, realizing what he caused, accepted that he would have to go to Dunkirk. 

The Dawson kids had avoided him like the plague after that. Peter checked in on George whenever he got the chance, worried after George said he couldn't see anything. There was nothing anyone could do and it killed Peter. 

Peter said nothing, but the glare he gave the soldier as he walked away spoke volumes. Elouise and the solder were left alone. She stood up from the floor and moved her eyes to the ground to avoid his gaze, even though she knew he was looking to her to say something. Knowing she couldn't get out of this one, she gave in and looked at him. "He's probably still resting." 

The soldier nodded and as Elouise went to leave, he asked her,"What are you getting out of this?" 

She turned around. The soldier went on. "Your dad gets the satisfaction of feeling like he did something to contribute, your brother gets to play hero, but what do you get?"

At first, she was tempted to slap him across his face and shame him for questioning her and her family's intentions after what they did for him. She wanted to remind him about how his selfishness caused one of his rescuers to get severely injured and that had it not been up to her father she would've had him thrown off the boat. But she knew better and she knew getting angry and violent wouldn't change his mind. 

"I get to see soldiers fulfilling their promise to coming back home," was all she said. 

She headed up toward the captain's area where Mr. Dawson and Peter were. She stood beside her father, looking out at the sea ahead. 

"I saw he went downstairs," Mr. Dawson remarked, referring to the man. "What did he have to say to you?" 

Elouise shrugged. "He wanted to know if George was ok." 

Mr. Dawson gave a nod. A few quiet seconds passed by. "Did Farrier specify to you what it was he was doing in the war?" 

She shook her head, pursing her lips. "Just that was he was enlisting. He didn't tell his parents either." 

Her fingers traveled up to the ring she wore as a necklace as it all came back to her. 

"There's something I have to tell you." 

She opened her eyes to Farrier lying on his side facing her. The soft ray of light from the moonlight outside shone through the window and reflected on to his face. He took her hands in his, playing with her fingers. "I enlisted this morning." 

Elouise reached behind her and turned on the lamp. She looked back at him, now leaning up from the bed. "You did what?" 

Farrier, knowing where this was headed, sighed. "I enlisted, Lou." 

Elouise opened her mouth but the words wouldn't come out. She couldn't find the right ones to say. Giving up on finding them, she removed the covers off her body and got off the bed. Farrier leaned up when he saw her put her bra and underwear back on. 

"What are you doing?"

She didn't answer. She walked over to the chair across the room and grabbed her dress. Farrier stripped the covers off from him and hurried to her. He grabbed the dress. "Elouise!" 

"Let go," she hissed. 

"You're not going anywhere until we talk about this," he argued pulling the fabric toward him. 

Elouise ripped the fabric from his hands and made her way toward the bathroom but was blocked by Farrier. 

"Move." 

"Not until we talk about this." 

Elouise threw her dress onto the ground. "Talk about what exactly? How I'm terrified that once you go, I might never see you again? Or that when you come back, you come back to be buried six feet under?" 

Farrier held her face in his hands. "I will come back to you," he assured. "I will come back and I will be alive. I promise you." 

"So did my brother." 

The room fell silent. Elouise removed Farrier's hands from her face and stepped back. "My family's barely recovered from that," she told him. "You've seen how Mum doesn't let people sit in his chair at the dinner table or how Dad gets just looking at a picture of a plane. I'm just learning to live without him, but I couldn't do that if I lose you." 

He took one step closer to her. "You are not going to lose me," he pleaded. His hands gently cupped her face. "I'll come back once this is over. I'll come right back to you." 

Her eyes whimpered before closing. She bowed her head as she started sobbing. Farrier pulled her to his chest, wrapping her tightly in his arms. "Just promise me you'll wait here for me," he whispered. "Promise me you'll be here when I come back." 

It wasn't until they were back in bed and when Elouise finally accepted his choice that she whispered,"I promise I'll wait." 

A distant but sharp buzzing sound interrupted Elouise's thoughts. She and Peter exchanged looks before moving their gazes up to the sky. 

"Look's like another plane," Elouise remarked. "Doesn't look like a Spitfire though." 

"That's because it's a Heinkel," Mr. Dawson corrected. 

Elouise's green eyes widened at the name "Heinkel". For someone who had no knowledge of any kind of aircraft, she knew it had to be German. Nothing about "Heinkel" sounded remotely British. 

"They won't be paying attention to us if that's what you're thinking," Mr. Dawson said. 

Her nose scrunched. "Why's that?"

He pointed up ahead. "They'll be going for the minesweeper."

Elouise turned to see a large ship heading in their direction. The rate of her heartbeat picked up as the minesweeper drew closer and closer with each passing second while a fighter escort appeared flying below the German plane.

"Then shouldn't we stand by for survivors?" Peter questioned.

"First we have to survive ourselves." 

Just as Mr. Dawson turned the boat away, Elouise heard yet another sharp buzzing from coming from the sky. Looking up, she spotted two Spitfires heading towards the Heinkel. 

"I don't think surviving will be much of an issue," she spoke up. 

Mr. Dawson and Peter looked over their shoulders to see the two spitfires flying to the Heinkel. One of the Spitfires soared under the Heinkel and right above the fighter escort before shooting at the fighter escort and causing it to burst into flames. The other Spitfire followed the Heinkel as the German plane steered away from the minesweeper. 

"Dad, look!" Peter exclaimed pointing at something off to the side. 

Elouise and Mr. Dawson followed Peter's finger to see the Spitfire that was left behind now smoking and making it's way into the English Channel. She glanced at her father. "Get the boat hook," he instructed. He quickly glanced over his shoulder before turning the ship around. "Peter, keep an eye out for a parachute. " 

Elouise went into the cabin, grabbing the boat hook along with a pair of her father's binoculars from the closet. The soldier, sensing something was up, followed her up to the deck. She joined her brother at the side of the boat as her father steered the boat toward the abandoned plane. Once the Spitfire landed into the ocean it began to sink.

"No parachute," Peter called out. 

They kept a close eye on the plane waiting for a sign that the passenger was still alive. Minutes passed with no parachute and no one alive to show for it. Nevertheless Mr. Dawson kept sailing toward it.

"I don't think there was a parachute," Elouise remarked slowly. 

Mr. Dawson didn't respond. Peter looked to his father. "He's probably dead, Dad." 

"He might still be alive!" Mr. Dawson snapped. 

Both Peter and Elouise jumped at the tone of their father's voice. Elouise watched the way her dad fixated on the ship, clinging on to every last ounce of hope he had left for the person in the plane. The same kind of hope he'd had for their older brother, that Elouise had for Farrier. She watched the ship intently, waiting for someone to emerge from it, waiting for him. 

"Elouise, get ready for the boat hook," Mr. Dawson said. 

He steered the boat right next to the plane where they were able to see the pilot struggling to open the canopy. There was a slight opening in the canopy where Elouise jammed the boat hook into it just enough to open it without stabbing the pilot. She then stood up onto the side of the boat, holding onto the bow with one hand and the boat hook in the other. The pilot grabbed onto the boat hook as Elouise pulled him closer to the boat where Peter and Mr. Dawson pulled him up. Elouise got off the side of the boat and ran to him, hoping she'd find that it was Farrier she had rescued.

She was met with disappointment.

The stranded pilot was younger looking and not as built as Farrier. His youthful appearance  was accentuated in his round face and his blonde hair and blue eyes made him the poster boy for what Hitler described as the "ideal man".

"Good afternoon," he panted, trying to catch his breath. 

Mr. Dawson handed him a blanket which the young man graciously accepted. He took it and wrapped it around his body as he got up onto his two feet. He took one last look at his abandoned Spitfire out in the sea and cursed under his breath. He sighed and then directed his attention to Mr. Dawson. "Collins," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. 

The older man shook it. "Mr. Dawson. These are my kids, Peter and Elouise." 

Collins shook Peter's hand and then as he took Elouise's hand to shake, his eyebrows furrowed curiously at her. His eyes studied her closely like a doctor examining a patient. Elouise looked over at her dad in hopes that he would say something so Collins would let go of her hand, only for Mr. Dawson to mouth, "Be nice." 

"Have you never seen a woman before?" she joked with a half-heartedly laugh. 

He snapped out of it and let go of her hand. "Forgive me. It's just...you look familiar. Have we met before?" 

"Not that I can recall," she replied shaking her head. 

Collins shrugged his shoulders, smiling at her. "Either way, nice to meet you." He sat toward the end of the boat. "Where are you headed?" 

"Dunkirk," Mr. Dawson answered as he returned to the wheel. 

Elouise picked up the boat hook off the deck and motioned to Collins. "Would you like some tea?" she offered. 

Collins nodded his head and followed her into the cabin. 

"What do you think?" Peter entreated as he watched Collins examine George's body. 

Collins shook his head. "I don't know, lad." 

Elouise watched Peter hide his disappointment with an understanding nod . She put her hand on Peter's shoulder but he ran off. Collins stood up from the floor and adjusted the blanket he was wrapped in. 

"Here," Elouise said offering the cup of tea. 

Collins thanked her as he took the cup from her hand and took a sip. "I'm sorry I couldn't be much help to your brother." 

Elouise shook her head. "There's really nothing any of us can do to help him right now. He begged Dad to turn back but Dad couldn't. It was too risky at that point." She went to take a sip of the hot tea she made for herself when some of it accidentally poured onto her shirt, the hot water burning her chest.

"Damn it," she hissed.

She set the cup down and tried to look for the closet napkin or rag. Collins handed her his blanket. "Here use this." 

Taking it, she thanked him as she dabbed it on her chest where the hot water was. When that didn't help, she unbuttoned her white blouse and threw it off, revealing the white halter bikini top she hand on underneath along with her engagement ring necklace that caught Collins eye. 

Once the burning sensation left, she sighed and realized what she had done. Her cheeks went red as Collins pursed his lips to refrain from laughing. She opened her mouth to apologize when Collins held up his hand. "It's fine," he assured with a laugh. 

Elouise, still blushing, handed him back his blanket. Once again, Collins found himself eyeing the engagement ring she wore as a necklace. 

"Is he in Dunkirk?" Collins inquired. 

Elouise's eyebrows furrowed. "What?" 

Collins pointed to the engagement ring necklace. Elouise let out an "ohh", realizing what he meant, before letting out a small laugh. "To be honest, I'm not sure. He didn't tell me anything other than that he was enlisted." 

"May I look at it?" Collins asked. 

Elouise nodded as she unlatched the necklace and handed it to Collins. Collins examined the ring, his finger grazing the emerald cut diamond. He whistled and handed it back to her. "A ring this beautiful deserves to be on a finger." 

She laughed. "It was...for awhile". Her smile fell as she stopped herself from finishing the sentence. She swallowed hard and shook her head as she put the necklace back on. Collins picked up on it right away. 

"I didn't mean to impose," he apologize. 

"No it's alright," she reassured. "I just didn't know what to do with it and making it into a necklace seemed like a good idea at the time." She paused. "I just keep it with me incase he changes his mind." 

Collins tilted his head. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

Elouise drew a long breath. "He sent me a letter last month saying he wanted to break it off. That he couldn't handle the thought of me waiting for him and that I should find someone else."

He pursed his lips back as he watched her fiddle with the ring. "I'm sure it was just as hard for him to write it as it was for you to read it. He probably did it to protect you." He paused. "A friend of mine had to do it to his girl back home. Cried himself to sleep but he knew did the right thing." 

Her eyes met his. "You don't suppose he knew she would do the same thing when she read his letter?" 

"Reason why he cried."

Collins pat her shoulder. "Your guy should be so lucky to have a girl like you. I hope you find him." 

It was then Peter's voice could be heard from the top of the stairs. "Elouise! Come quick!"