For King And Country (not mine)

Summer 1940

May 31st 1940

Havers didn't say anything for several minutes, just holding the Captain close and waiting for the slight trembling in his body to cease.

"Is this about the telegram I asked Smith to give to you?" He murmured once the Captain had calmed.
"Yes," The Captain replied.

"If you don't mind my asking, what did it say?"
The Captain paused, unsure as to whether he could even say the words.
He pulled away, reached to pick up the telegram and gave it to Havers. His arm didn't quite feel like his own as it moved.

Havers watched him for a few moments before reading, searching for some kind of extra permission.
When the Captain didn't back down, he raised the telegram a bit closer to his face, glancing down and eyes scanning the page.
The Captain could tell when he finished reading, though his eyes stayed on the paper for several extra seconds.

Havers lowered the telegram and met the Captain's gaze again.
And there was that pity. The pity that came when someone in your family died, and people expected you to break at any moment.

It was as if no one paid attention to the reality of the Captain's relationship with his brothers. The letters would likely come from aunts and uncles at some point. They would be sending their condolences, and it would only bring the Captain distraction.
The whole situation meant that he couldn't even focus on grieving in his own way.
The Captain expected all these things from other people.
But not from Havers.

Havers was as unexpected as they came and had appeared out of nowhere, just like their slow and sweet romance. 

Which made his pity so much harder to deal with. The Captain didn't want it. He couldn't handle it.
"Oh, Teddy, I'm so sorry."

The Captain took the telegram back, returning it to his desk and swapping it for his pipe. Once lit, he puffed a few times, finding comfort in the action.
"I ... I think I'm fine." He said. "I wasn't expecting it, that's all. I worry more about how Alistair is faring with the news."
"Is he still in France?"

"I assume so." The Captain replied. He perched on the longer part of his desk, only his side profile on show to Havers. "I can't imagine he'll be allowed to come home for a funeral. They need every possible man over there."

"Maybe you should write to him," Havers suggested. The Captain shook his head. "It might do you both a world of good."

"Trust me. I know my brothers. The last thing Alistair will want is for me to contact him.
Especially when the wound is so fresh." The Captain said.
"It might be the last thing he wants , but it might be what he needs," Havers replied.
The Captain stayed quiet, puffing away on his pipe and trying to iron out his thoughts. He already had so much that he needed to do, and things would begin to pile up the more he sat and dwelled.
He was running out of time. Always running out of time.

"I'll have to think about it." The Captain said eventually.

"Teddy-"

"Can't you just accept my answer?!" The Captain snapped, looking to Havers. A bubble of anxiety rose in his chest. "This is my family. Not all of us have the luxury of a close relationship with our siblings. For some, it's more complex."

"I understand that, sir-"

"Do you?" The Captain asked. "Because it doesn't sound like you understand. It sounds like you're pushing."

Havers stayed quiet. For once, there was conflict written into every inch of him, and he seemed like he didn't know what to do or say.

One of the most loved things about Havers was that he always knew what to do in a crisis. He was calm and levelheaded, and kind.