Chapter Text
November 2, 1939
The war carries on but so do we. I fear a few of the recruits are growing restless. The younger chaps, they want to get involved in the fighting you see. Bailey and Johnson have already left for the front, I expect them to be excellent soldiers. Robinson was just sent in from HQ last week. Seems to be getting along with the men just fine. The Captain paused, he’s taking some time to warm up to me as CO, doesn’t seem to…
He drew a line through the sentence— the work we do here is absolutely vital and it’s important we keep our chins up. We won’t win this war without resilience.
Resilience. The Captain frowned and continued writing. Lieutenant Havers has been wonderful a great help to me. They listen to him. He has my utmost respect. The way he commands the room is admirable. I do find our time together easy to bear; he’s both sharp, and cunning, and nice. He’d make a very fine soldier indeed.
The Captain looked up. Besides the dreary sun peaking through the blinds, his room remained empty.
I’ve come to think of Havers as a friend, perhaps he feels the same. I hope he— he dropped his pen, interrupted by a loud knock at the door.
“Come in!” He quickly sat up, in the heat of it managing to knock his ink jar over with a thunk. “Blast it.” A few droplets had splattered on his hand. Scrambling to realign his desk, the office door swung open; sounds of chatter and the shuffle of papers flooded the room.
“Sir? Are you alright?” The door’s gentle click followed, silencing the noise.
Footsteps. Caught in a strange hover over his desk, the Captain frantically tried to rub off the ink on his hand with a rag— miserably failing.
“Sir?” Closer now.
The Captain finally looked up to find Havers staring at him with a great bout of confusion.
“Ah, Lieutenant! No, I was just—” he caught the younger man looking at his open journal and quickly closed it, “erm, just a little spill yes, yes… nothing to fret about.” He flashed a smile, stuffing the rag back in his pocket.
Havers smiled in return, warm, as it always was.
“Coffee sir.” A tray of two piping hot cups and a small bowl of sugar cubes was placed on the table. The Lieutenant popped two sugars into one, and one into another; giving both a light stir. He handed the former to the Captain who accepted it with a gracious “ah, thank you,” sitting back down.
Muscle memory. Who wouldn’t develop it after weeks of mornings like this? The graze of fingertips and the soft sound of voices still awakening. A sort of warm, fluttery feeling overtook the Captain at the simple thought of Havers remembering how he liked his coffee. It was awfully silly. But he felt warmer still knowing he had offered for a lower ranking officer to do the job, but Havers had insisted, smiling: We’re at war, how hard must it be to carry a tray?
Another sip of his drink and his mouth betrayed him. “You’re too kind Havers.”
It had been intended for only his own ear, but to the Captain’s dismay, the man wouldn’t miss a pin drop.
“You say that a lot sir.”
“Do I?”
Havers nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink. Curious how he always managed to maintain eye contact.
But it’s true, the Captain wanted to say, you are kind. You’re kind to me. “Hm,” was what came out instead.
And there was that smile again, one which the Captain was sure could stop the war. Although this time it was almost… playful. Havers hummed, placing his cup on the table. “You know, sir…” and off he went, briefing the Captain of the absurd horseplay two recruits had been at just the evening past. Something about an actual pissing contest? He would have a talk to the men about this later.
Oh, but the sound of Havers’ voice was far too nice, and dewy and—the Captain tried his best to stay focused.
Christ. It was almost scandalous the familiarity of meetings like this could give a person. Just the two of them, no later than seven. Sure, a shorter briefing outside would certainly suffice—would even get the job done quicker, but the Captain would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the simple company Havers. And yes, he was nice to look at too. Very. Very.
Havers chatted on and the Captain listened. Besides the standard talk of plans for the day, news from HQ, or whatnot; they had more recently developed the topic of interests. Good lord, what had become of him? As Commanding Officer he should shut down any sort of nonsensical talk at once, lord knows, Collins had the audacity once to ask if he was married.
But still.
“I’m not sure if I have one, Lieutenant.”
“Oh, there must be one. Let me think… Treasure Island?”
The Captain shook his head.
“Brave New World?”
“I’ve read it, but it’s not—”
“One of Shakespeare’s?” tried Havers.
“Great heavens, no,” scoffed the Captain. “Mine’s rather basic, come to think of it.”
The Lieutenant thought for a moment, studying the Captain’s face. It made him nervous.
“Frankenstein?”
Oh. If it were anyone else the Captain would’ve thought he was making a jab at his appearance. Yet, Havers looked at him without snideness—but a gentle curiosity.
Then there was a look of recognition, and the Lieutenant knew he had hit the jackpot.
“It’s silly,” said the Captain.
“Nonsense, it’s a wonderful novel. Defined science fiction.” Havers smiled and took a sip of his coffee. “Terribly misunderstood wasn’t he?”
“Who?”
“Frankenstein’s creation.”
“Ah, yes.”
And even softer, Havers added: “He hadn’t asked to be made like that.”
And just like that, Havers, whether he knew it or not, had seen the Captain right to the bone. Here was a story of a monster who wanted desperately to be loved. Here was a man whose whole life was devoid of it. The Captain knew his limits. Ever since he was a young lad he was taught what he could not, should not, have. Emotions. Weakness.
Men.
He had known he was attracted to Havers the moment he had walked through the door and introduced himself. But god, the desire hadn’t truly hit him till that conversation. What was it, about a month ago? Time felt so unhurriedly fast.
Havers continued talking, what a lovely sound it was. The Captain thought now of the desk between them, and how it acted as a sort of unspoken barrier. He was there, the Captain was here. It would stay that way—uncrossed. There were things Havers surely couldn’t know.
But what if he did? What if he sees straight through me, and is repulsed? But another voice in the Captain’s head was also yelling at him: but James, what if he’s the same?
The Captain returned to himself, placing his cup back on the table. Pull yourself together man, you are the Commanding Officer of an entire war unit first. Remember that.
His voice boomed with an unnatural intensity.“I suppose you must have something to report back from HQ lieutenant?”
Havers—wide-eyed—ceased talking. Surprised by such sternness, he briefly searched the Captain’s eyes for an answer.
The Captain pointed his chin up.
“I-I’m afraid not today sir, I apologize.” Havers looked down, embarrassed.
“We will have to resume with the usual operations then,” said the Captain stiffly, “be sure to gather the troops for my morning briefing at no later than half past.”
Havers gave a quick nod in response, a bit of the lightness he had going with it.
The Captain frowned, realizing this was not the approach he was going for. The other voice in his head bested him.
“At ease lieutenant, I was only hoping for news of that service revolver I requested two weeks back. A morale boost in these trying times would certainly be welcome.”
Havers relaxed. “Certainly sir.”
If it weren’t for the Captain’s insatiable need to keep Havers happy he would’ve bit back his tongue. “Although, you’ve always known how to lighten the mood, Lieutenant.”
At this, the corners of Havers’ lips widened into a smile. A particular softness glazed his eyes, the small wrinkles beside them creasing just a tad bit.
And there was that warmth again—good lord, what a sight. In the dazzle of the Lieutenant’s smile the Captain’s mind must have been playing tricks on him, because surely he hadn’t witnessed Havers’ cheeks flush the lightest shade of pink.
“Actually sir,” he said softly, “I did happen to have some news of a possible cricket match, on Sunday, next week.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, a few of the men have been in clubs before, and there’s a nearby unit down south that’s agreed to play us. Just a short game given the limited recreational time we have. It’d be a good thing to have before the winter really sets in. If that’s alright with you sir.”
The Captain nodded enthusiastically.“Of course Havers, jolly good! Perhaps, we could even arrange a short practice a day prior.” The Captain stood up, vaguely imitating the swing of a cricket bat—with matching sound effects. “Get those cricket gears moving again, as one might say.” Who that one might be, the Captain didn’t know, but Havers let out a little laugh, and suddenly he would do anything to hear it again.
Oh, but then Havers’ eyes were on him, and the Captain didn’t expect to see stars in them. He quickly sat back down, his whole body a flame.
“Well…” he snuck another peak at Havers whose eyes were still on him— goddammit stop looking at me like that. The Captain downed the rest of his coffee at an alarming speed, to suppress his urge to scream.
Resilience. “I suppose we could arrange one for Saturday at 1600?” said the Captain, licking his lips. Havers’ eyes flicked down then back up.
Mind tricks.
The Lieutenant cleared his throat. “Right, yes. I suppose you’d like to include this in your morning briefing sir?” His gaze shifted to the window.
The Captain took note of this. He smiled. “Actually, I was thinking you’d be the one to notify the staff of this splendid news Lieutenant. It was your idea after all.”
“Oh I-“
The Captain stood up before Havers could protest, bouncing on his heels. “I suppose that’s all for this morning Lieutenant, hm?”
Havers, with a bit of hesitance, stood up as well. He carefully placed their empty cups on the tray. “Well sir, there’s actually something else…”
“Oh?” said the Captain, planting his feet on the floor.
“I-erm perhaps… you’d like to be a member of the team? We are short on one.”
“Oh…” the Captain started, rather dumbly. With you? On the field? Why I… He swallowed. Visions of Havers and the tight flex of muscle were quickly capsized.
The man in question looked at him hopefully. “You seem to know the game, and, well…of course—I-I am aware of your duties as the Captain and—”
“At ease Lieutenant, steady your buffs,” said the Captain, who needed a bit of buff steadying as well. And was rather charmed he possessed the ability to make Havers stammer. “It would certainly be my pleasure to be a part of…?”
Havers’ smile returned. “The Button House 11.”
“Wonderful,” hummed the Captain.
And in the heat of it, Havers’ eyes caught his and they stood there for a moment, unmoving. Time stilled, and the Captain held his breath; sure his fingers could snap from the way he was gripping them behind his back. Havers leaned ever so slightly forward and Christ even that made the Captain flinch, his body aching for something—
“Isopropyl,” said Havers quietly.
The Captain blinked. “What?”
“Uhm, the ink,” Havers pointed at the Captain’s hand, “I believe cotton and a dash of rubbing alcohol will get it out most effectively.”
Tick.
The Captain lifted his hand, having forgotten it had been stained. “Oh, thank you, Havers,” he offered the Lieutenant a weak smile, “I’ll see to it.”
Tick.
Havers bit his lip and looked as if he wanted to say more. But the desk remained rigid, and the moment passed.
Tick.
He smiled, gave the Captain a parting nod, and left the room. The door closed with a resounding click.
The Captain sighed from a place deep within him—falling into his chair. He squeezed his eyes shut. Perhaps if he squeezed hard enough he would go blind, and even deaf. That would sort it. Oh, but it would still leave him with touch, wouldn’t it?
The muffled sound of Havers calling the troops to attention escaped into the room.
Resilience. The Captain’s pen made its way back into his hand as he opened his journal.
I’ve come to think of Havers as a friend, perhaps he feels the same. I hope he-
The Captain bit his lip, knowing all too well the familiar ache of his heart.
The brush of fingertips.
A lingering gaze.
He quickly scribbled down a few words and slammed the book shut, discarding it in his drawer.
I hope he stays.
With a certain Lieutenant in mind, the Captain went off in search of a first aid kit.