Foist- a Dunkirk fanfic

Buried Memories

A/N:

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Chapter 2

"Dad!" Peter called as the girls stepped out of the taxi and kindly thanking the driver. A balding grey-haired man with kind eyes came out of the store the trio was standing in front of and smiled softly.

"I assume you're Rebecca Collins?" The kind man asked, Rebecca, nodded in return,

"Aye, sir!" She chirped timidly, returning his kind smile. To Rebecca's surprise, the old man turned to Natasha and engulfed her in a tight hug,

"The last time I saw you, you were 'yay high" Mr.Dawson let go of Natasha and put one of his hands on her shoulder while the other at approximately the height of his knee,

"Your brother used to come visit us every summer before Lewis joined the RAF" he trailed off sadly, Rebecca looked back at Peter, who was staring down at the ground and scratching the back of his head. Lewis Dawson, Peter's oldest brother and Mr.Dawson's oldest son joined the RAF during the earliest moments of the battle of Dunkirk and was a good friend to Tom.

Rebecca, once again, started to fiddle with the bracelet on her wrist as a pit started forming itself at the bottom of her stomach, slowly constricting her lungs the longer she was left alone in her thoughts and making her heart quicken its pace,

I couldn't imagine losing Jack; he is my flicker of hope, my best friend. My world would blow up into millions of pieces before becoming a burning pit of sorrow and depression.

"Rebecca?" Mr.Dawson's voice snapped the brunette out of her thoughts, and she looked up to meet his slightly concerned eyes,

Must have zoned out again. She thought to herself, I tend to do that a lot.

"Aye, sir?" she replied, waving off the concern in his voice, seeing as she was acting quite agitated at the moment, Mr. Dawson decided not to push the subject any further but instead showed Rebecca and Natasha up to their rooms, located on the first floor. The two entered a wide hallway where pictures were hung up along the wall, one of them seemed to get the girls' attention; a man wearing an RAF uniform, similar to the picture Rebecca brought with her. After guiding Natasha to her room, Mr.Dawson led Rebecca to the door on the left of the hallway and opened it up. The fresh ocean breeze greeted her through the open window, and a small bed and night table were positioned in the middle of the perfect sized bedroom.

"I know you must be exhausted after your long trip, why don't you have a rest?" He suggested softly, the girl shook her head in embarrassment, yet trusting the elder enough, to be honest,

"I'm not much of a sleeper" she chuckled uncomfortably, Mr.Dawson nodded his head understandingly.

"You have someone in the war?" He questioned sincerely,

Rebecca nodded her head but said nothing, afraid if she does, she might break down. It was not only the worrying thoughts she had of her brother that kept her up at night but her father too, and now that she was far from him, her worries certainly won't get any less. Mr. Dawson didn't push it, but instead changed the subject, "When you are done changing, come down to the dining room, and we will fix up dinner"

"Thank you, sir," She smiled. He gave her a reassuring nod before closing the door softly behind him, leaving the girl alone to her thoughts. Rebecca opened up her suitcase, knowing well enough what she will be unpacking first. Pulling out the fragile frame that hugged Jack's picture from within her clothes and set it carefully on the nigh table. Her warm blue eyes stared at the picture for a good moment as she started to genuinely reflect on the last time she had a good rest,

I guess, other than last night, I can't say I recall the last nightmare-less night I had...

"Rebecca?" Natasha's voice sounding muffled from behind the closed door, "Are you almost done?"

Rebecca's eyes widened and she stood up from the corner of the bed abruptly, looking down at the clothes she's wearing, realizing that she hasn't changed yet.

"Uh!" she stammered, racing to her suitcase and taking out her nightgown and changed into it quickly and swung the door open, placing her hands on her hips,

"Aye," she sighed, letting out a small yelp as Natasha dragged her down the stairs and into the dining room.

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It was a brilliantly sunny day in Weymouth, something everyone found quite misplaced in a time of war. The day after the two arrived in the small town, Peter introduced them to his good friend, George, and the three became very good friends during the short time. Mr. Dawson has warmed up to Rebecca by a considerable amount and has been treating the two girls as if they were his own two daughters. When Rebecca would spend her nights unable to sleep, he would always be there, lending an ear and a shoulder for her to rely on, his wisdom was very useful for her, and Mr.Dawson served the best temporary father figure she could have ever wished for. For the past week, Rebecca would send letters to her father every chance she got and kept him up to date with everything.

Today, however, Natasha and Rebecca were not at the store selling some supplies to an old lady or organizing the shelves after a little boy decided to do some exploring, they were mentally preparing themselves for something a lot more deadly. The two young women kept on sneaking uneasy glances at each other as they loaded the white moonstone with supplies. Lifejackets, blankets, food, anything that could fit and that would be to some good use. A pair of feet could be heard pounding down the dock causing the two girls to up.

"What are you guys doing?" George questioned, slightly out of breath.

"Dunkirk is evacuating and there are thousands of men with no way of getting out, we are going to help," Rebecca informed him quickly,

He nodded and started helping them load the boat. Rebecca paused for a quick moment, looking back at the young boy, before shaking off whatever feeling she felt, and went back to her task. The boat was loaded within a few minutes, thanks to George. Mr.Dawson got on the boat while Peter started the engine, Natasha and Rebecca soon followed.

"Thanks for the help George," Mr.Dawson smiled, turning his head to look back at the front as he moves towards the boat's wheel. Rebecca, seeing as this was her first time seeing the ocean up close, let alone on a boat, decided to make her way to the bow of the boat, wanting to get a better view.

"George!" Natasha hissed, Rebecca turned around just in time to see Goerge take a seat near the rear of the Moonstone,

"Woah, George? Do you know where we're going?" The blue-eyed girl asked in a severe tone, Peter made eye contact with the young boy, a concerned look flooding his features.

"France" He stated,

"Into war George," Mr. Dawson's voice sounding darl and gravel from the captain's cabin.

"I'll be useful, SIr," George promised. For a minute, the air around them was dark and filled with anxiety, Mr.Dawson's sigh broke through the silence, then pushed the throttle forward, as they sailed their way closer to hell.

A/N:

QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER:

Who is your favourite Dunkirk character??

Thank you for reading!