Chapter Text
Dappled light streamed through the rusted remains of the old Boeing 737-100, illuminating a mossy path through the wreck.
Cissie lead the way, stalking through the plane, bow drawn. Tim followed her, admittedly absently, but in his defence, he’d just taken the brunt of their own plane crash. Cissie had managed to escape it before impact, but Tim’s cape had gotten caught on the console, so. He wasn’t quite at 100%, was the point.
They’d only come to the island in the first place because they’d picked up on a distress signal – which was probably a trap, considering they were shot down pretty much as soon as they were over the island.
“There’s something up ahead,” Cissie whispered, crouching behind a sheet of metal. Tim hurried down to her side.
“Something, or someone?” he asked, peeking around the edge of their hiding spot.
“Not sure,” Cissie said. “Stay here, I’ll be back.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“I’m going to find out what’s there,” she said, like it was obvious.
Tim scrunched his nose. “Why do I have to stay here?”
“Because your head is split open,” Cissie said flatly, “and I don’t need or want the others to kill me if you die.”
“I wouldn’t die,” Tim said, but Cissie was already gone, and Tim could do nothing but huff and slump against the metal.
Cissie’s footsteps faded as she walked away, and eventually the plane wreck was silent again; only the wind whistling through the skeletal remains of the plane and the calls of birds from the forest surrounding them.
Tim managed to sit still for all of five minutes before rising once more.
——
Cissie had managed to cover considerable ground in the few minutes Tim had stayed back. He reached the mangled door of the cockpit without seeing her at all. Clambering through the narrow gap, Tim entered the cockpit. He reached the window, peering out of it in the hopes of spotting Cissie’s red quiver. No luck.
Tim sighed, plopping back into the pilot’s seat – the plane clearly didn’t like that, and Tim hardly had time to cry out in surprise before the metal collapsed.
——
Tim came to with ringing in his ears and fog in his mind. He groaned, and tried to sit up. Something was stopping him from moving.
He opened his eyes to nothing. Despite this, it still felt as though the room was spinning.
“Arrowette?” he tried. “Cissie?”
No one answered him. Tim wiped a gloved hand across his face, and blinked against the grit on his face.
Shapes came back into focus – as did the collapsed cockpit around him.
“Oh, come on,” Tim said, and pushed against what used to be the wall. It did move – but not nearly enough to allow him to slip out.
Tim kicked out, to no avail. At the very least, he could now rule out any broken legs.
“Cissie,” Tim tried once more, but he didn’t expect much. He’d have to find a way out of this by himself.
——
After some rather creative wriggling, Tim managed to free his upper body and midsection from the wall. After that, it seemed simple enough to drag his legs out. The serrated edge that had snagged on his pants disagreed, and Tim cursed loudly as it cut into his shin.
He froze, looking around him apprehensively. Hopefully, if anyone did find him, it would be Cissie, but he really couldn’t afford for it to be anyone else. He pushed the metal up once more and shifted his legs until he could get them out the rest of the way.
Tim sat back. Now he just had to get out of the rest of the plane.