For King And Country (not mine)

Winter 1941

Chapter Notes
Okay, so from my research, I know that France surrendered in the summer of 1940 and the North Africa campaign began that same summer.
However, I've chosen to give Cap and Havers more time together in this fic to fully discover their feelings and develop their relationship. And to be honest, I genuinely thought the Africa campaign and France's surrender was later in the war than it actually was. I don't know why. My brain just assumed. So that one's on me for not taking that into account before I started writing.
For those two reasons, suspension of disbelief is a big player around timeline issues in this fic. But I hope y'all see this and know that *I* know I'm a bit of a dumbass. WW2 isn't really my niche when it comes to my historical nerdiness and I am not quite at the same level as the Idiots at historical accuracy.
Either way, hope y'all enjoy the healthy dose of heartbreak in this one.
January 31st 1941
January 1941 was the longest month of the Captain's life by far. He spent the first three days after he and Havers had parted ways barely leaving his office.
He slept at his desk, gave himself cricks in his neck, and eventually had to brave his bedroom, for his health's sake.
The prototype limpet mine came, and he and Havers had spent barely any time with it. Looking at it now left a bitter taste in both of their mouths.
But as January came to a close, the Captain knew they had to start looking at it, no matter how much it hurt.
Which is exactly how he was in this situation now.
It was late. He and Havers were sneaking out into the garden to find a spot to properly place the mine.
"Should it not be a little farther out into the field, Captain?" Havers asked quietly.
Captain. Not Teddy. Not even Theodore. Good Lord, I'd do anything for him to call me Theodore again. Even if it meant he was frustrated with me.
"It could be stumbled upon by accident if we put it any further out." The Captain said. "We need it close to the house but away from the others. We don't use the door that leads here. There's no reason to come to the garden. We do all of our work inside, run drills and play cricket in the field.
Here is the perfect hiding place. No one would think to look."
Havers looked around them for a few seconds.
"We should mark our place first. If we do have to bury it in the case of an emergency evacuation order, we can't afford to lose our prime spot. It needs to be easy for us to get to without drawing attention but difficult for anyone to stumble across. Once that's decided, we can get to studying it. Perhaps we should also come up with something a little less conspicuous than calling it what it is." "Like a name?" The Captain asked.
"Exactly, sir," Havers said. "Perhaps we should take time to think it over, then revisit it at a more appropriate moment."
"Good idea, Lieutenant." The Captain said. "Why don't you go back inside? It's late, and you should be getting some sleep. I'll handle things out here. You can give me your opinions when we're finished with everything else."
Havers left without hesitation, and the Captain unashamedly watched him leave.
We should be going back together.
Damn you, Theodore, you bastard. Letting a perfectly wonderful man like Havers pass you by should be a crime.
But what could he do when falling in love with Havers was a crime in the eyes of British law?
He turned away from Havers and took a breath to steady himself as he focused on his task.
~
February 4th 1941
The Captain watched as Havers helped Smith adjust his stance.
Another day, another shooting drill. The days were still bleak, and the Captain found he often woke up in a cold sweat at night, a hand immediately searching for Havers and finding only a mattress.
It was harder to maintain this than he thought it'd be.
His mind kept drawing parallels to the year before. They'd come full circle. They were barely talking, barely addressing the truth.
The Captain wanted nothing more than to fix it. But he knew it was no longer safe.
With Hughes' sudden keen interest and nosiness, he knew he'd made the right choice.
The Captain had noticed the private's behaviour around Havers. He was convinced that maybe he and Havers weren't the only ones with their particular ... deviation.
But he swallowed down the jealousy, the heartbreak and everything else that he felt for Havers.
It had been a grievous mistake getting involved with his lieutenant in the first place. He'd put them both at risk, no matter how happy they'd been in the past year.
He was supposed to be the more responsible one. Almost costing Havers his life and his reputation filled the Captain with nothing but guilt.
The Eleven remained outside running drills for another half an hour until the rain started, and everyone immediately began to pack the equipment away.
"Private Hughes, leave the guns for Lieutenant Havers and I, thank you!" The Captain called, looking up to see Hughes collecting the training revolvers from the other officers.
Hughes handed them over to the Captain wordlessly.
"Havers, would you mind taking these up to their rightful place? I'll help with the rest of the equipment."
Havers took the guns from the Captain, disappearing back towards the house.
"Smith, Tyler, you two stay, the rest of you head back inside and finish off your paperwork." The Captain ordered.
"What if we don't have any, sir?" Hughes asked.
"All paperwork is handed straight to me by Havers once it’s finished to be signed off and approved. In the last three days, I've only had Smith and Tyler's reports. I'm more aware of what happens on this base than any of you, Private. When I give you an order, it's for good reason." The Captain said, fiddling with one of the posts on a target.
He received no reply, and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw the majority of the officers making their way back to the house in a hurry.
Smith and Tyler stayed behind, quickly and effectively packing things away like they'd been doing it their whole lives. It was hard to imagine them not having done this forever.
The Captain would need to talk to Hughes eventually when the workload wasn't so heavy, and he was getting a regular nights' sleep again. He was far too tired to be doing much of anything outside signing papers and responding to telegrams these days.
Soon, he thought. I'll catch a break soon.
~
February 10th 1941
"So I drew up some blueprints for the mine," Havers said, unrolling the tube of paper in his hand.
He placed it on the table and used nearby items to pin the corners down.
Havers' detailing was immaculate. There were sharp lines and edges to the drawing, in-depth notes labelling each part. No mistakes, as per usual.
"I have more notes on the back, but my thoughts kept getting drawn to the time fuse. It allows divers to get in and out of stealth missions with ease." "Is there a problem with it?" The Captain asked.
"Not at all. It's a marvellous idea. But I can't help but think what else could improve it. So I went through some of my old books about war machinery, and realised that an anti handling device would be the real kicker to make this successful."
"To prevent someone from tampering with it?"
"To prevent someone from removing it. If this mine is developed to the point where it can be used on larger ships and not on U-boats, it won't do to have them discovered and easily removed. They're called limpet mines for a reason. The animal namesake for this particular mine clings to naval transports. A traditional magnet on this explosive is all well and good, but something to make it stay would be even better. Anti handling devices aren't as common as you'd expect. Making them adds to production time. Time is a crucial currency in a war. But perhaps taking that extra time would make a drastic difference."
The Captain pondered the thought. "How would an anti handling device work?"
Havers flushed a little. "I'm afraid my knowledge isn't that extensive, sir. I never got far into any education in engineering. Most of the things I know are from books, not actual practical work."
"I'll suggest this device to my superiors." The Captain said. "They'll put their best people on it.
Well done, Havers. You should be very proud, it's a brilliant idea." Havers beamed, his features filling with pride.
The Captain couldn't help but smile a little too, a quick flash barely noticeable under his moustache.
But the two of them stayed looking at each other for perhaps a second too long before remembering that they were not supposed to look.
Immediately, they realised, and both glanced away.
"Should I leave the blueprints with you, sir?" Havers asked.
"They should be kept away from the mine. I've got it locked away safely. The blueprints with your notes are invaluable. If anyone should come looking-"
"They can't know how it works." Havers finished. "You're right. I'll keep these safe. Is that everything for tonight, sir?"
The Captain nodded. Havers lingered for just a moment, the air between them thick and heavy.
And then he turned on his heel and left, respecting the line in the sand that the Captain had drawn.
It's getting easier, the Captain assured himself.
Not by much, but it's becoming the new routine. Keep yourself in line for just a while longer, and maybe this will all go away. There may still be hope for you yet.
It was a terrible thought, a terrible want, for his feelings to not be his own.
But a life without them would be a safe one for him and Havers.
It was best for them both, this way.
The Captain had repeated the rationale to himself every day he existed without Havers beside him as he used to be.
It wasn't true yet. But the Captain had hopes that it might be one day.
The Captain did his best to ignore the larger part of him that knew the feelings would never really leave.
They would always be the skeleton in his closet, the loose floorboard under his bed and the false bottom in his trunk filled to the brim with personal mysteries, only ever thought about in the dead of night.
It was far too dangerous to even whisper his thoughts aloud.
Acting on them had been a suicide mission. The Captain wasn't sure how they'd never been discovered. He wasn't entirely sure Hughes hadn't figured them out.
The workload was beginning to lag a little now. The Captain had almost made his way through the stack of papers on his desk.
He would have to finish them within the next day or two if he wanted the sickness in his stomach every time he looked at Hughes to cease. He couldn't go on like this.
The Captain stared at the files, debating on whether to start immediately or after he'd had something to eat.
Now, you coward. Get it finished and get talking to Hughes.
The Captain sighed, took a seat, and pulled the stack towards him.
~
February 12th 1941
The Captain's stomach was in knots. During his morning briefing, all he could think of was how he could get Hughes away from his work for the day for long enough.
What was the best excuse?
How would he approach it?
Would he look as guilty as he felt?
Would he incriminate himself?
The door opened, and Havers walked in, carrying something.
"Ah, Lieutenant."
"Communique for you, sir," Havers said, striding towards the Captain and holding out the paper.
"From HQ. Marked urgent."
"Ah, finally! This'll be my requisition for a service revolver." The Captain said, taking it and opening the envelope.
As his eyes scanned over the words, he felt Havers' gaze on him, but it all slipped away as the communique's news settled.
"Good God!"
"Sir?"
"France has surrendered."
"My God."
There were anxious murmurs amongst the Eleven, and the Captain felt his previous nausea only grow.
Things are getting worse. This war has no end in sight. How am I supposed to keep their morale up
now?
"The Germans are coming."
The words fell from the Captain's mouth before he had the chance to bury all of his feelings down as he usually did.
The communique fell from his hands as he darted towards the window, immediately searching the skies.
"I ... don't think they'll be here just yet, sir."
There was a slight note of laughter in Havers' voice, and the Captain turned to look at him, fearful for a moment that his second was laughing at him.
He saw the slight hint of affection in Havers' eyes, and his mouth quirked at the left-hand side. He relaxed a little.
He could handle the Eleven's rolling eyes and quips under their breaths. But the idea of Havers laughing at him rather than with him stung.
"What?" He asked, brain still running a million miles a minute. "Right!" Things were all muddled with the news and the work he had to do.
He had to talk to Hughes, and deal with his ever-present feelings for Havers, who was still looking at him like that.
He couldn't think of what best to do. He wasn't trained on how to process something as big as this!
The news had come out of nowhere, and his mind was suddenly empty.
"May I suggest we initiate the emergency lockdown protocol, sir?" Havers asked, stepping towards the Captain.
Though he framed it as gentle advice, the Captain could see that Havers was prompting him, trying to help his brain kick back into gear.
"Yes!" The Captain agreed. "Yes, jolly good. No, nothing must fall into enemy hands!" He looked back out the window, still searching for any hint of a plane.
How long had London known before they'd sent word?
The enemy could be almost upon them, and the Captain would have no time to prepare his officers
at all.
Distantly, he heard Havers say, "You heard the CO. Get to your duties."
Footsteps and movement overtook the room for a few seconds. Once they were all gone, the Captain sensed Havers' presence join him by the window.
"Um ... exciting times, Havers." The Captain tried.
His attempt at small talk felt wrong and crooked and the exact opposite of what a conversation with Havers should be like.
"If they do invade, we may get a proper pop at Jerry!"
"Yes!" Havers took the hint, trying to engage with the kind of enthusiasm a keen and professional second in command should.
But his quick flash of a smile soon faded, and he looked out of the window, seeming nervous all of a sudden.
"About that, sir ..." He paused, and the Captain's heart clenched as if it knew something he didn't. "I know we do vital work here, sir, but I want to get involved in the fighting. I've put in for a transfer."
Those five words caused the Captain's world to crumble in an instant.
"You're leaving?" He heard himself say. It sounded wrong, distant and distorted and not his voice
at all.
He heard himself respond without question, but not with the words he wanted.
You're not supposed to leave.
You're supposed to be just down the corridor in case the fatalist war attitude changes.
In case I need you.
In case you need me.
You're supposed to be working with the Eleven.
You're meant to be here with me.
Havers swallowed and finally met his eye. "There's talk of a North Africa front." The Captain nodded and tried not to let his disappointment show on his face.
They were meant to have more time than this.
He thought they'd be summoned eventually, parted by a force greater than their love for each other.
He'd never imagined that Havers would voluntarily leave.
"Yes," He said, trying to fill the silence. "Yes, well I-I-I totally understand, of course. Carry on."
Havers' features seemed to change by the millisecond, too many complex emotions that the Captain couldn't understand showing themselves all at once.
The lieutenant lingered for longer than he was supposed to.
Always waiting just in case. The Captain knew what he waited for. And yet he didn’t give in.
His breath lodged in his throat, words filling his lungs, everything muddled and twisted up the wrong way.
Havers lingered. Upon seeing the lack of the response he craved, he was the first to look away, and muttered a, 'thank you,' before swiftly moving from the room.
The Captain stared at the space Havers had been in a moment before.
And despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but realise how much bigger that space would be if
Havers' transfer was approved.