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The bus was already noisy and excitable when they got on board, the students already hyped up from their early start and undoubtedly the sugar rush brought on by their 'rations'.
Pat takes a seat at the front of the bus and the Captain settled in across the isle from him .
"Okay, everyone," The Captain's voice is loud and commanding, and the students settle down, "I want a quiet, calm bus ride please , followed by a quiet and calm day at the museum. The Louvre is the heart of French culture and you kids will be representing the entire nation of Britain. Act accordingly."
"Yes, Captain." The students chorused back, used to the ir teacher's brisque manner by now.
"Alright then," Pat says, "lets get this show on the road."
The Captain pulls out a book from his satchel and Pat settles back into his seat, pulling out his headphones and putting on a playlist, trying to drown out the deafening noise of the kids around him.
Before long Kitty, a sweet young girl who had taken quite a liking to the Captain, despite his blunt manner had moved up to sit next to the man. She was the youngest on the trip, having recently turned 12. The girl had joined the school eight months ago, near the end of the last school year and had a tough time adjusting. Being assigned to the Captain's form group she had gotten up to speed fairly quicky and had quickly cemented herself as a favorite among teachers and students alike for her good heartedness.
Pat admired the courage Kitty had to try to engage with the stony man. Though the Captain seemed to have taken a shining to the girl himself, even if he tried to hide it.
They sat together quietly, the Captain continued reading , Kitty humming to herself and trying to read over his shoulder .
"What are you reading, Captain?"
"Hmm?"
"What are you reading, sir?"
" It's a book called Tinker Tailer Soldier Spy, a very famous book by a man named Le Carre." Kitty had clearly hit upon something the Captain was passionate about "It will likely seem awfully dry to you now but give it a few years and I think you might rather you enjoy it ."
Kitty looked delighted to have gotten a genuine answer out of the man and settled back into reading the book over his shoulder in silence .
The Captain seemed relaxed enough to the untrained eye , but Pat couldn't help but notice that his shoulders were tense . Kitty wouldn't have incited this reaction from him; Pat figured it was the noise of the bus full of excited students .
"Alright everyone, listen up." Pat said, pausing his music, "we've got 15 minutes before we arrive and I'd like to quickly go over the rules, so that we can all have a nice, safe, fun day."
The Captain nodded in agreement and the students quietened there conversations a tad.
"Okay, number one," Pat said, "stay in your groups. Number two, no running or shouting, the Louvre is an incredibly important place of cultural significance and we need to respect that. Number three, try to have fun and learn lots."
The students all nodded and mumbled their acknowledgements, and the rest of the journey was filled with hushed whispering and excited giggles.
The bus arrived outside the Louvre and they piled out onto the busy Parisian street. The students were in high spirits, being couped up t=in the buss had wound them up and they were raring to get going , Pat smiled to himself as the students were given the go-ahead to pile inside.
He took a quick headcount and, seeing they were all present and accounted for, allowed himself a moment to just take in the view of the building. The Captain was hanging around the back of the group, walking tenderly and with a more pronounced limp, leaning into his cane more than usual. Pat couldn't help but notice, and he hung back to join him.
"Are you okay?" He asked, concerned.
"Hm?" The Captain was caught off guard and straightened up quickly. "Oh yes, f ine, thank you Mr. Butcher ."
"Only last night -"
"We'll not discuss that." The Captain snapped, cutting him off, his tone cold.
"Right, okay ." Pat said, feeling his hackles rise , he was only ever trying to help, what a shame he had to share this trip with such an infuriating man.
They made their way inside and split up, the Captain chaperoning the group of younger girls and Pat with the younger boys, the older students wandering off together.
Pat and the students wandered the museum, taking in the various rooms and paintings, the students were enamored by the huge ancient Greek sculptures, the students were mostly well behaved and Pat was content, enjoying the exhibits himself as he kept a careful eye on the students.
He checked his watch and realised they had been in the museum for a couple of hours now, and that they were almost due to meet the other two groups for lunch in the museum cafe .
"Alright guys, lets go and meet up with the others , you're probably getting a bit hungry by now."
The students mumbled and groaned but followed along dutifully, and the group of 7 met up with the Captain's slightly smaller group , closely followed by the arrival of the older students .
The group walked as a mass, Pat at the front, with the Captain trailing behind.
The Captain had been unusually quiet throughout the day, Pat noticed, even with the girls. His face was tight, his shoulders tense. Now that Pat was on the look out for it, the Captain's gait had seemingly gotten worse too.
Pat knew better than to bring it up , lest he have his head bitten off again.
They all met in the cafe and got lunch, the Captain bought a sandwich, which he picked at and didn't eat much of at all. Not that Pat was watching the other teacher per se, just paying attention.
The younger students were excited to tell them all about the exhibits they had seen showing the older ones some photos they had taken, the teenagers humored them kindly.
The Captain was sitting quietly , on the surface, calm and focused . But underneath, it was clear he was radiating tension, his jaw clenched. Pat wanted to ask what was wrong, but he didn't want to e xpose him in front of the students.
They finished their lunch, and the Captain stood up, looking particularly pained for just a moment before straightening up . Kitty had now noticed the older man's discomfort, and her brows furrowed, a look of concern on her face.
"Captain, are you okay?"
"I'm quite alright, Kitty." He said, "just a little stiff." he smiled tightly, his mustache twitching, "we've a rather large collection of Egyptian antiquities to see, so let's not dilly-dally."
Pat and the Captain herded the students up and out of the cafe and back into the main body of the museum. The groups split off into the same formation and once again went their separate ways .
About 20 minutes into their wanderings, two students from the other group approached Pat, looking no small part flustered.
"What's wrong, girls? Where is the rest of your group? Is the Captain not with you?"
Jemima and Prue looked nervous "No he's with the rest of the group but he's not well, Mr B."
"What do you mean? He's not well?" Concern growing in Pat's chest.
"We think he's ill or something ," Jemima said, her eyes wide, "he got all pale and shaky, sat down on a bench insisting he's fine , and just needed a minute but now he's ignoring us and breathing weird" the young girl rambled, clearly worried about her teacher .
Pat had seen the Captain had been 'off' all day, so this was not wholly unexpected. He took his group of boys with him and followed the two girls into the maritime war section where they had left the Captain .
He spotted the Captain's grey hair and the group of panicking girls around him, they were hard to miss seeing as other visitors were giving the group a wide berth.
"Alright girls, move along, I'll look after him," the girls seemed reluctant to leave, but did as they were told , except for Kitty who stood staunchly by the Captain's shoulder .
"Come on, Kitty, I'll look after him." Kitty looked like she might protest but nodded, and Pat gave her a reassuring smile and patted her shoulder as she reluctantly left .
The Captain did look terrible, he had that same thousand yard stare he had worn the previous night, and his hands were clenched tightly around the edge of the bench. The man was shaking like a leaf , and his breathing was labored.
"Okay," Pat said gently, kneeling in front of him, "it's okay, Captain, take a breath."
The Captain didn't react, seemingly lost in his own thoughts , eyes glazed over.
Pat tried again, remembering how talking had helped the night before , "You're alright, mate, it's okay, you're safe"
By now the Louvre staff had noticed the commotion and a few security guards approached them " Is everything okay here, gentlemen?" One of them asked in heavily accented English.
"Ah, yes," Pat replied, "My colleague here has had a bit of a turn. He'll be okay, he's just a little...unwell."
The security guard nodded, "If you need assistance, call for the security and they will find me."
"Thank you, sir."
The security guards left them and Pat turned his attention back to the Captain, whose breathing was no better and eyes just as far away as before.
"You're safe Captain , you're in the Louvre, in Paris, with me, Patrick, and you're having a panic attack, you're safe."
The Captain didn't acknowledge him, and Pat could tell that the man was completely zoned out.
"Okay, okay, that's alright, you're safe ." Pat said, more to reassure himself. "It's 2023 and we're on a field trip in Paris and everyone is safe ."
Pat was starting to worry, he wasn't sure how to help, but knew he shouldn't try to touch him. He had seen PTSD in films before , and had to guess that this is what this was.
Pat knelt down in front of the Captain , and kept talking, hoping it was helping.
"You're safe, mate, no-one's going to hurt you."
Pat continued to talk to him, trying his best to sound calm and gentle, despite the panic he was feeling himself, his own heart hammering in his chest.
The Captain's breathing had slowed a little and his face was no longer white as a sheet. His eyes were frantically searching Patrick 's face, the thousand yard stare had gone, replaced with something much more raw.
"There we are," Pat said softly, "you're doing really well, Captain. Can you tell me what you can hear?"
The Captain swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching, and his grip on the bench tightening.
"Um, your voice." The Captain said, his voice was soft, and Pat couldn't help but notice the slight tremor to it, "And... my heart, I can hear my heartbeat " he breathed, his jaw tight.
"Yeah," Pat said, smiling kindly, "That's right, mate, can you tell me what you can feel ?"
The Captain's eyebrows creased, and his jaw worked, "the- bench," He replied, "It's made of stone and cold."
"Yes, it is. It's 202 3, we're in the Louvre and everyone is safe ." Pat was beyond relieved this seemed to be working, he was sort of running out of ideas, "and what can you see ?"
"I can- I can see," the Captain took a shaky breath, "your face. I can see... th at p -p ainting over on that wall" The man seemed to wind up tighter again at that , and his breathing picked up a bit.
Pat looked around and for the first time noticed which section they were in, maritime war, and the painting behind him was a rather detailed and rather gruesome illustration of a seaside battlefield , the soldiers strewn dead over the beaches , and the bodies of the walking wounded scattered across the foreground of the canvas .
"Oh, shit ." Pat muttered, reali z ing what may have triggered the man in the first place , the Captain had not moved, his eyes locked onto the painting. Pat stood to block the Captain's view of it, the taller man's eyes now locked onto Pat's chest.
"What about what you can smell, Captain? Do you know what you can smell?" Trying once again to pull the man back to the present with the skills he had learned through a television screen watching MASH as a kid.
The Captain blinked, his breathing had picked up again, "I can... I can smell the- the floor polish. I can smell..." he paused "I can s-smell gunpowder and ... and iron -blood- I c- I can smell blood." The Captain's voice cracked, and he was once again breathing erratically, and a tear escaped down his cheek, he didn't seem to notice.
" I can hear them, I can hear their screams. They won't stop screaming." The Captain's voice was thick and desperate and his breathing was becoming erratic, "The gunfire. They're dying and it won't stop."
" I t's not real, you're safe, you're in the Louvre" Pat tried "It's 2023 , we're in Paris and everyone is safe, the war is over, it's over."
"It won't s -s top, it won ' t-" The man was worked up again now, breathing worse than ever, Pat was afraid he's pass out if he kept this up.
"It's not real." Pat repeated, feeling helpless ly inadequate . "You're having a flashback, but it's over. You're safe - I promise."
The Captain was trembling, and Pat couldn't bear to see him like this any longer. He reached out his hand and covered the Captain's right hand, still clutching the edge of the bench , where the man's knuckles had gone white with the strain.
The Captain flinched but didn't pull away, he took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.
"I-I can't-" the man's voice cracked, his breathing had started to calm a little, his face had taken on a more pained expression, rather than panicked. His death grip on the bench eased and instead he gripped Pat's hand tightly like a lifeline, "I-I'm sorry." He choked.
"no need to be sorry" Pat reassured him.
They stayed there, perched together on the bench, the Captain's breathing was still erratic, but much less than before, and Pat squeezed the Captain's hand in his own, trying to offer him a little bit of comfort, while also grounding him.
"It's okay, Captain, you're safe. It's 2023 and we're at the Louvre, and everyone is safe, no-one's hurt."
"No-one's hurt." The Captain echoed, his voice tight. "we're at the ... L-louvre, God why are we at the Louvre?"
Pat chuckled, relieved that the man seemed to be coming back to himself, "We're on a field trip, mate . The combined history and languages department mid-year Paris trip. "
"Christ," the Captain said, taking a deep breath and letting it out shakily. "I'm so sorry."
"No, no, you're alright. Just take your time." Pat smiled, trying to ease the man's nerves.
"No, I'm sorry," the Captain repeated, his voice tight "Wh-where's Kitty? And the other girls? God I hope I didn't scare them ."
"She's alright," Pat replied, " T he kids are all together, the older ones came back to keep the young ones entertained , they're all okay, they're safe."
The Captain seemed to relax a little, noticing he was still gripping Pat's hand he let go.
"I'm so sorry, Patrick. You shouldn't have to deal with this, I'll just be a moment and I'll be fine." The Captain insisted , scrubbing his face with his hand and straightening up .
"Oh, you're not fine, Cap. And it's okay, we'll go when you're ready, you've got nothing to prove, mate."
"I just need a moment." The Captain insisted , trying to fix his hair .
"Okay."
The two men stood, and Pat noticed the Captain was still very tense, his jaw clenched and his eyes alert , posture as perfect as ever .
"Shall we?"
The two men walked slowly through the museum . T he Captain was lagging behind more than usual and his leg was obviously causing him discomfort, but he was steadfast and silent.
When they caught up with the students, the Captain was once again the picture of stoicism, his shoulders squared, and his face impassive. Kitty rushed forward and hugged the Captain, who was caught off guard, and patted her awkwardly.
"Sorry for scaring you all" he addressed the group, and then to the little girl clinging to him " Kitty, are you alright?"
"I'm okay" she mumbled, and pulled back.
"Are you okay, Captain?" Prue asked, her brow furrowed.
"I'm quite alright , thank you for fetching Mr. Butcher , you did very well. Gold stars for all of you " He announced with a tight smile.
Prue smiled at the compliment, and the older students were looking between themselves, clearly not convinced by the nonchalant explanation, but not willing to argue. Pat knew it would take a truly dire situation for the group of 16 and 17 year old's to have stepped up to take care of the younger ones, they surely sensed it was more serious than either teacher was letting on.
Pat was touched by how the kids seemed to care so much for their teacher, he was always puzzled by the fact that such an all around hard-arse of a teacher had such a consistent cult following among the students.
After fielding a bit more interrogation from the younger ones the Captain tried to move the focus on from him.
"Alright you lot ," he addressed the students " There is still time for a few more exhibits before we have to leave, I suggest you all get on and find something to occupy yourselves with ."
Then he turned to Pat quietly "I don't suppose I could leave my group to explore with you and yours?" The man looked very nervous "It may be best if I rest for a while"
"Of course , but I'm not sure leaving you alone is the best idea... not that I don't trust you to look after yourself " Pat added hastily, not wanting to offend the man.
"I would love some alone time, but it seems I may have some company" he said, giving Pat a s mall smile and gesturing to Kitty, once again stood staunchly by his side , a determined look on her face.
"Ah yes." Pat laughed, Kitty was a force of nature. "You'll be alright?"
"I believe I'll survive, Mr . Butcher." The Captain said dryly.
With the group split, the Captain and Kitty made their way back to the cafe to get coffee for Theo and a juice for Kitty. They sat at a table, the Captain's leg stretched out, and Kitty watched him worriedly, her arms crossed, and a deep frown etched onto her young face.
" Don't be angry Kitty, it's not like you" the Captain said, a hint of humo r in his voice , trying to lift the tension .
"I'm not angry , I'm worried" she replied, her voice quiet and her brow furrowed.
"That's worse." He teased, taking a sip of his coffee.
Kitty 's frown deepened .
"Oh, come now," the Captain sighed, his smile slipping from his face "I t's not worth all the worry, I assure you."
Kitty was by far the most perceptive student he'd ever had, and she was still only 12, nonetheless she seemed to understand others far better than most her age.
"You were shaking and had this really weird look in your eyes , and you wouldn't answer us." Her eyes were wide and worried .
"I'd never want to scare you Kitty, and I'd never want to lie to you either so I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and talk to you as if you're older than you are" The Captain knew how emotionally mature she was for her age, and thought it was best to give her an honest answer, the poor girl had seen him fall apart at the seams. He reasoned not knowing what had happened could be worse for her than being told the truth.
" I've got something called PTSD, do you know what that is?"
Kitty shook her head.
" Well it's an acronym, do you remember what that means?" The Captain questioned, ever the diligent teacher.
"aco-rymn ... no- sorry sir", frown lines deepening.
"That's alright, each letter stands for a whole word. In this case - post traumatic stress disorder". The young girl nodded so Theo took that as a sign to elaborate.
"I was in the armed forces for a long while, I had some bad experiences. Sometimes when people see or hear things that upset them it can get ... stuck in their head, it's as if your brain isn't able to understand what it saw. Later on these same experiences keep on coming back like a bad memory. Except it's more than just a memory - they call it a flashback, where something reminds you of it and you get stuck in that memory, living the experience all over again." He tried to explain it in a way that Kitty would understand, and that wouldn't further upset her.
"So you were in a war and you heard the guns and saw the soldiers and their blood and the fighting, now you get flashbacks to that." Kitty reasoned.
"Well you can get PTSD from a whole range of things, certainly some soldiers get it but other people can too" Theo corrected gently, watching the cogs turn in the young girl's mind.
" But you got it from being a soldier. " Kitty said looking him right in the eyes.
"Y-yes Kitty" The Captain swallowed. He wasn't used to talking about his experiences with anyone, but especially not a child. He'd always done his best to put on a brave face, but today had gotten the better of him.
" S ometimes it's just a sound or a smell or a taste, it doesn't have to be a visual trigger. Today it was seeing a rather graphic painting."
"So you'll have it forever? Is there no way to stop it?"
"Some people can learn how to make it go away, and some can't. I've found ways to manage it most of the time ." The Captain smiled softly at Kitty, trying to ease her worry "it is getting easier for me now though, flashbacks are few and far between".
Kitty nodded, clearly considering all she had learnt.
"Again, I'm really sorry for scaring you, do you have any questions?" The Captain asked gently.
"I don't think so" she replied, looking a little lost in her thoughts but still with the presence of mind to slurp the rest of her juice.
"Well, I'm here if you ever do think of any " he gave her a smile.
Kitty returned his smile and nodded, and then a bright smile took over her face again as she turned her attention to the coloring in sheet provided by the cafe of a mummy in a sarcophagus.
Kitty reached for the pink pencil and passed it to the Captain "you can colour the crystals, but not the bugs. They need to be green and I will do that".