For King And Country (not mine)

Winter 1941

February 28th 1941
The days quickly blurred together. The only way the Captain could differentiate the days was by the reports he wrote and stamped each day. He barely remembered anything else.
He was aware of himself, his surroundings, and the things he was doing, but it felt smudged around the edges, smooth where they should be sharp. Almost like someone else was controlling him entirely.
But he was sat at his desk, scribbling away in the familiar leatherbound notebook that had been on his bedside table until quite recently.
If there was anything as important to write in the gift Havers had given the Captain had given him for Christmas, it was this.
Dearest Will,
I don't know if you will ever read this. Either I will be too cowardly to give it to you, or you will refuse to read it and discard it.
If you do read this letter, however, I want to take this opportunity to apologise for ending things, and for how hard I have made working at Button House. My only explanation is that I panicked. With Elise's arrival into your life and Hughes' sudden keen interest in you, I was fearful we were close to being discovered.
I thought I was condemning you by staying with you. It would be different if it were just me that he suspected, but I couldn't let you face a similar fate. I was so very wrong, Will.
If you read this letter instead of burning or discarding it as I deserve, I want you to know that my feelings for you never changed. There were so many nights I wanted to knock on your door and confess how much I adore you.
But as it stands, I can't even say the words aloud. Not in the safety of my office or my bedroom. I can't say it to the mirror or with my eyes closed. It's a great effort just to write them. My hands are shaking as I write, and the logical half of my brain is screaming at me to burn this page.
However, I can't do that. This letter is written on the first page of the notebook you gave me. It was important to me that only the most valuable information would be written here. And my feelings for you are the most valuable piece of information I will ever know.
I want you to know that I didn't ever come to you because I needed more time. I wanted to be confident and unashamed for you. You deserve that. I wanted us to have the chance to be free and safe. It seems now that we've run out of time for me to come to that point.
I hope that when your transfer inevitably gets approved - since there is always a need of good men on the front, and you are by far the best man I've ever known - that you will still think fondly of me.
I hope that you will stay safe. I hope that you stay alive and uninjured.
Most of all, I selfishly hope that you will one day return here to Button House, to  home , so that we may see each other again. Perhaps to leave  this  claustrophobic home behind and create a new one altogether, as we talked about.
With all my love and adoration, Always your Teddy.
The Captain put his pen to one side and took a shaky breath. He took a few moments to look at the paper in front of him before gently pulling it from his notebook, careful not to rip it any more than necessary.
Once it was separated from the rest of the book, the Captain stood folded up the paper and slid it into an envelope from his desk drawer. He licked and stuck the seal together, then scribbled Havers' first name on the front.
He stood, walked round to the front of the desk, aiming for the window. He tilted it slightly, using the natural light to help him check to make sure none of the ink had run and stained the envelope.
It was a dangerous thing to write Havers' first name rather than his rank and surname. His handwriting would be familiar to the rest of the Eleven if they saw it.
A knocking at his office door disturbed him. His stomach immediately dropped.
This could be Hughes, who he'd asked to see earlier that afternoon, or it could be someone else, looking for something completely meaningless.
The Captain hastily tucked the letter in between his shirt and jacket, trusting the thick material of his uniform to hide it.
"Come!" He turned and saw Havers enter, just closing the door behind him. "Ah, Havers! At ease, at ease. I was just thinking about you, actually."
Havers settled into a relaxed stance as the Captain continued.
"How's the emergency lockdown coming?"
"Very good, sir. Most items have been squared away, as per the order." Havers replied.
"Excellent!" The Captain said.
He took a few steps, trying to seem calm and composed instead of stuck in one place.
As his mouth opened to talk again, both he and Havers spoke at the same time.
"I see-"
"I've come to tell you that-"
Both paused, glanced at each other and chuckled, a hint of nerves evident.
"Sorry, you first, Lieutenant." The Captain said. There was a brief pause, where all the outcomes raced through the Captain's mind. Havers could be here for any number of reasons.
But once he'd addressed whatever he'd come to see the Captain for, the Captain could hand over the letter. He  would  do it. Now that it had been written, there was no possible way for him to ignore it.
"I'm afraid I'm leaving you, sir," Havers said. "At 1800 hours this evening."
For the first time, the Captain couldn't quite make out the emotions on Havers' face, and he found that he'd suddenly forgotten how to breathe.
Havers was leaving already? How desperate were things for a transfer to be approved already?
The Captain had requested transfers before, for various reasons. It could take weeks to get a response, maybe months, depending on what his superiors were dealing with in their offices.
"So soon?" The Captain asked. He forced himself to take a breath. "That would explain your new service revolver."
Havers looked down at it and grinned happily. It was something to be proud of, to be given a service weapon. He had every right to be happy about it.
Things felt all too real all of a sudden.
All this time, the Captain had assumed that it would take longer for the transfer to go through.
It proved to him that they had made such an awful decision in choosing to get so close to each other. He would not be so affected if he'd remained distant and indifferent, as he often tried to be.
War was not supposed to be the background role in a love story.
He and Havers would likely never get the long-awaited reunion, seeing each other along a train platform once the war was over and everyone returned home.
They wouldn't see each other and share a soft smile through the crowds. They would never have the chance to sprint towards each other and collide in the middle, relieved to still be alive to see each other again.
Havers might not survive North Africa. His life was now dedicated to the front lines. Everything he was back home in England would be left here, and he might not ever return the same.
The Captain swallowed past that fact, trying not to wince at the bitter taste it left in his mouth and tried to seem as stiff as usual.
"I don't suppose they sent one for me, did they?" The Captain asked, eyes glancing back down to the holster around Havers' waist.
"Only for front line personnel at this stage, sir," Havers replied.
"Of course." The Captain said, feeling ridiculous for even asking. What did he need a weapon for, really?
"It's North Africa, sir," Havers said. "I'll be able to have a proper swing at Fritz!" Havers seemed excited, unable to conceal the joy in going.
The Captain felt sick to think that perhaps  he'd  had something to do with Havers putting in the transfer now. He remembered a conversation they'd had last year, where Havers had said he couldn't imagine fighting abroad.
And yet he readily accepted the challenge now.
Havers was selfless, and he was always taking on more work than he should, always wanting to contribute more.
It was why he'd taken such a keen interest with their limpet mine at first. What would happen to the blueprints? What would the Captain do with the mine? The idea of carrying on the project was nauseating now.
They were things to be considered later, he supposed. Right now, Havers' happiness had partially poked a hole in the tension, and the Captain couldn't bear to take that away from him.
"You make sure you give them a bloody nose!" He joked.
He and Havers both laughed, but the air became fraught with tension again. They could both sense the overarching fear radiating off each other.
For anyone else, perhaps it  would  have been good news, to be selected for the front.
The Captain didn't give himself a chance to think before he spoke again.
"I shall miss you, Havers."
Something in Havers' eyes changed first. The rest of his face followed as the smile faded. A glimmer of  something  was there that hadn't been there before, and the Captain couldn't help but panic.
The desire to plead for Havers to stay was there, but there was the knowledge that it was out of their hands now.
It was time to stop pretending that they weren't military men. The rules were different for them. Strict and harsh, all lines and boundaries. There was no room for affection and love in times like these, for men like them.
They always would've paid the price eventually, whether it was a year or ten in the future.
But how nice it would have been to have ten years with Will , the Captain thought.
"By which I mean, of course, that  we  shall miss you." He corrected, going against his nature to be completely honest. Havers' posture changed slightly again, and the moment was gone. "And I know the Button House Eleven will certainly miss your cover drive."
"Thank you, sir," Havers said, smiling. "Well, if that's all?"
He lingered, as he often did these days, for the Captain to say something.
Always waiting for something that could never come.
The Captain nodded minutely, and Havers turned to leave after a small hesitation.
When Havers reached for the door, his hand barely upon the knob and the wood only just opened, the Captain acted against his better judgement.
He couldn't give Havers what they both wanted.
But he  could  give them both some closure. To know that things had ended on good terms, with a hint of bittersweet longing under their skin, but  good . He could give some tenderness for Havers to take with him, a fond memory that he could hold near to his heart if they never reunited.
"I say, Havers?"
Havers turned, and that  damned  look was back again. Indescribable and expressive all at once. A prayer, a silent plea for the Captain to change his mind, perhaps.
I shall be just down the corridor if your mind ever changes , Havers had said.
No longer. This moment was their last chance, and the Captain knew that Havers' sentimental side hoped that they would prevail against the strength of orders from the British Forces.
"It's a bally shame we won't get to finish the operation together." The Captain said, wishing that he could force himself to say something more poetic.
Havers smiled anyway, the first flicker of raw affection in his eyes for the first time in two months.
For a moment, the Captain thought he might stay. Act on that affection, and make this a departure to truly remember.
But Havers just continued smiling as he ducked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Just like that, Havers had walked away as easily as he had walked into the Captain's life.
The Captain watched, took the letter from where it had been resting and simply looked at it for a few seconds. His eyes drifted up towards the door, debating whether or not he should do anything.
You wrote it to be read, Theodore. It would be a disgrace to waste the notebook he bought you.
Cowardly too.
Deep down, he knew this, and yet he watched the spot where Havers had been standing and wished that he could follow.
~
The Captain watched from one of the upstairs rooms as Havers walked to the gate. It was almost spring, and while the sun was beginning to set, there was a lingering thread of daylight left.
Outside, the rest of the unit were packing away for the day.
The training weapons were being carried out of the field and placed in a pile on the border of the grass and gravel. The Captain would take them back to storage, as he usually did. The targets were being folded up, and everyone was suitably exhausted after a full day of training.
The Captain would be returning downstairs in a moment. He'd only retreated upstairs to get the letter he'd intended to give to Havers.
It was now or never, of course. The Captain would have no address or way of sending it to Havers otherwise, and it wouldn't get past the censors even if he  did  have the details of where he'd be in North Africa.
But he hadn't had time to grab the letter from the drawer of his desk. He'd heard yelled goodbyes, and he'd raced to one of the other rooms immediately, desperate to know how close he was to being out of time.
The lieutenant stopped, turned over one shoulder and looked up to the window as if he knew the
Captain was there.
He raised his hand as a goodbye, and the Captain fought to stay where he was and not run after him.
He's gone, Theodore. Chasing after him now would not be appropriate, and the letter would only bring questions.
Though he was sure that Havers might not see his response, and his heart was breaking, the Captain raised his hand as well, a bittersweet smile turning the corners of his lips up.
They may be out of time now, but a small part of him retained the hope that Havers would return soon.
Havers turned away, and the Captain retreated from the window, taking a deep breath to steel himself.
With the exhale of a breath, he took a step.
When his foot landed on the floorboards, there was a noise.
It wasn't the usual creaking of the floorboards. Or the sounds that accompanied such an old house.
The world stopped for a second, dead silent as if holding its breath.
And then the yelling came.
The Captain turned back to the window, stepping closer to peer outside.
The other officers were gathered by the gate, some crouched and some standing. Someone was yelling. A few of them were standing a little further back, and the Captain couldn't see any of their faces to gauge what had happened.
And then someone stood up, and the Captain caught a brief glance at Havers' face.
He was on the ground, staring right above him, and the Captain couldn't tell if he was blinking. He couldn't see the lieutenant's chest, couldn't see if it was rising or falling.
The Captain backed away from the window, and it took a few seconds before he realised that he was running through the corridors, the sound of his feet on the floorboards dull and muted.
He reached the front door just as it opened, and Hughes stumbled in with Tyler and Reed gripping him by each arm.
"Captain-"
"My office, I'll be with you shortly," The Captain ordered.
He moved around them, feeling the crunch of gravel under his boots as he carried on running.
He collapsed beside Havers, and the other man's eyes took a few seconds to register who he was.
It was only when that telltale tugging of his mouth on the left-hand side, the one that always preempted a cheeky smirk seemingly reserved only for the Captain, appeared that the Captain knew Havers realised he was there.
"Captain-"
"Shh, Havers, don't go wasting all your energy." The Captain said. "Smith, go down to the village"
"Johnson's already gone." Smith interrupted. "There's a doctor's office there. He's gone to find them."
Havers coughed slightly, and the Captain could hear the rattling of his breath as the lieutenant tried to hold on just a few moments longer.
"Where are you injured?" The Captain asked.
"His chest, sir." Marks said. "He'd opened his coat. He was patting the pockets of his jacket, trying to find something, I think."
The Captain opened Havers' coat just slightly and felt his face fall at the sight of the blood.
The green fabric beneath the coat was stained with blood, and there was a bullet hole in between the second and third buttons.
"You'll be alright, Havers." The Captain assured, looking him in the eyes. "I'm sure it feels like hell, but you've only got to hold on a little while."
Havers' hand loosely gripped the Captain's from where it was still on the thick overcoat.
The lieutenant smiled, and the Captain saw the same affection from earlier return to his eyes. There was a mix of fear and pain there too. He knew what was coming.
Johnson wouldn't be back in time. They all knew that. Havers was struggling to hold out much longer. Having done so for this long had exhausted him.
"I know what you're going to say, Havers, and I forbid it. You're not giving up before we've had a chance to help you."
"How do you know, Captain?" Havers asked weakly. "You can't read minds."
"You forget that we're friends, Havers, not just colleagues." The Captain said. "I know you better than you know yourself sometimes."
The mirroring of the words Havers had said when he'd arrived back at the house after Christmas was intentional, and the Captain knew that it would soothe Havers.
"Thank you, sir," Havers said. He blinked a few times, his grip tightening as much as he could make it.
"For what?"
"For everything."