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The Captain adjusted his tie as he walked into the main hall of Button House. He cleared his throat quietly and slowly observed the decorated officers who were milling about, exchanging stories and reuiniting. His heart was beating quickly, and his palms had gone clammy - he knew he could get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out he wasn't supposed to be there. If he could just find his Lieutenant, then they could find somewhere quiet and he wouldn't have to worry about being found out.
Squinting his eyes, he glimpsed a familiar flash of brown hair and an awkward smile. He felt like his heart had stopped beating. There he was. At the back of the room. How long had it been? 5 years? He could hardly believe it.
"Havers..." he muttered under his breath. From several paces away, Havers had turned away from his conversation, and his eyes widened slightly. There was a slight smile playing on his lips, and the way the light caught his eyes--
"Oh, terribly sorry..." the Captain exclaimed as a soldier bumped into him. Or rather, the Captain had bumped into him. He had been distracted, after all. Havers had turned away, looking slightly dejected.
"Captain? Ha! Is that you?" the soldier asked, with a look of surprise and - was that respect?
"Cartwright! Good Lord," the Captain responded.
"Why, I haven't seen you since what..."
"Gosh, must be, yes. Sorry, I've just..." the Captain trailed off, staring over Cartwright's shoulder over to where Havers was still standing. He tried to pull himself away from the conversation, but Cartwright just wouldn't leave him alone.
Honestly... he thought.
"Never had you down as front line material," he said, sounding mildly perplexed and the Captain didn't know if he should have been offended. Although, truth be told, he knew he wouldn't have lasted a day on the front lines. He would have tried his best though, and that's what mattered. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself.
"Where were you posted?" Gosh the questions just wouldn't end.
The Captain hesitated briefly, "Oh well... Forward Command, actually. Yeah" He did not like how uncertain he sounded. Silently he cursed himself, why didn't he think to make up some story that the others might believe? Now he had no choice but to improvise, and he had never been any good at that.
"Versailles," he continued.
"Versailles? I was in Versailles! You weren't in Versailles. Were you in Versailles?" Cartwright sounded to be in utter disbelief.
Is it so hard to believe? The Captain thought to himself.
"Well, briefly..." His heart rate was quickening, why couldn't this blasted conversation just end? "Before I was moved to, um..."
Cartwright narrowed his eyes. "To where?"
Perspiration prickled the edges of the Captain's hairline. How the hell was he going to get out of this?
It'll be okay he told himself. Just focus on Havers. He's so close.
"Sorry, I really must just..." he started walking away, but Cartwright intercepted him.
"That's not even the right way up," he pointed to the Captain's stolen medals.
"What?" The Captain had completely forgotten there was a correct orientation for them. He was completely, and utterly, screwed.
"What are you trying to pull here?" Cartwright demanded, his tone of voice rising considerably, drawing the attention of some of the other soldiers.
"Erm... ha..." he was really struggling. If he could just get to Havers.
"Well the thing is, I..." he spluttered. "Sorry, I... No, no..."
"Explain yourself, man!" Cartwright shouted.
His heartrate quickened. Why was his chest starting to feel funny?
"What's all this?" an older gentleman adorned with medals stepped in.
"My old CO, sir," Cartwright explained. "Trying to pass himself off as the bally hero!"
"No, please, I, erm..." he pleaded.
"Where did you get these?"
"Hmm? No, I, erm..." Gosh his chest was feeling dreadful. His ears had started ringing and he was struggling to breathe. "I... I can..."
"How dare you?" the older soldier shouted. "Have you no shame?"
The Captain clutched his chest. Something was wrong. Why was everything so tight? All he could hear was his irregular heartbeat. Had the lights always been that bright?
A sudden wave of dizziness hit him, and he fell to the floor. Pain ricocheted through his side where he hit the concrete. His head hurt. His eyes were watering.
Concerned chattering surrounded him, and he realised everyone in the room was stood around watching him. Why weren't they doing anything? God, his chest hurt.
"Sir!" he heard a far-away voice shout. "SIR!"
Havers had practically launched himself across the room, and pushed the other soldiers out of the way to get to the Captain. He fell to his knees and looked around with an expression the Captain had never seen on his face before - anger so strong that his face had almost gone red.
"Well? Fetch a medic!" he yelled to the nearest officer, who nodded and rushed out towards the front door, where the medics were stationed.
He turned back to face the Captain.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly. In that way he did when he knew the Captain was worried about something. Or, in this case, when the Captain was very much not alright.
"I'm sorry," the Captain whispered. "I had to find you..."
"I'm here," Havers responded. His brow was creased with concern, eyes wide.
With a great deal of effort, the Captain lifted his left hand up towards Havers' face, and Havers grasped it with one of his. The Captain understood why - they were under the scrutiny of so many military personnel, that any display of affection would have Havers disgraced and stripped of his rank and medals. He briefly noticed Havers had been promoted to Major, and he felt a sudden surge of pride and affection towards this man, who was looking at him like his world was slipping away from between his very fingertips.
Havers' thumb gently brushed against the back of the Captain's hand as he chocked out "I... I..."
"I know..." Havers guided his hands around his own swagger stick so the Captain would have something to grab onto. He kept his hand over the Captain's though. To hell with everyone else watching. Let them judge.
The Captain blinked through tears, he was starting to feel mighty cold. And he was terrified.
"Anthony..." he managed.
Havers looked at him with a fondness he'd noticed a few times before in years gone by, and he smiled a little as he responded, "James..."
Havers kept his hands on the Captain's, until he let out one final breath.
Everything was so loud. Havers was kneeling on the ground. Why was he lying down? Oh, right, his heart. He sat up, yelling "Havers!" but Havers just stared down at where the Captain had been lay. He knelt, confused.
He then saw his own body lay there, lifeless, and the slumped figure of his ex-Lieutenant over it. He had the expression of a man trying desperately not to completely come apart.
"Havers! Please, I'm here!" his hands trembled. He tried to reach out, to grab him, but his hands slipped straight through and he felt incredibly nauseous. He hurried backwards.
"No, no, no..." he whispered.
A single tear fell from Havers' eye. He swiped it away before anyone in the room could notice.
A strangled noise came from the Captain. He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. Only five minutes ago he'd been perfectly okay. The crowd was starting to disperse. Where in God's name were they going? After a minute or so, most of the officers had vacated the room, and the only person remaining was Havers. He looked around, to make sure he was in fact alone, before turning back to the Captain's cold body.
"I'm so, so sorry sir..." he started. Tears were falling much more freely now that he wasn't being watched. "Whatever were you thinking? Breaking in here?"
"I needed to find you, Anthony," he responded. But, of course, Havers could not hear him.
"James, I would have come to find you. You're the only thing that got me through all those years on the front lines," his voice cracked and he gave himself a few seconds to compose himself.
The Captain was a shaking mess. What was Havers saying? He watched on, helplessly, as Havers took out a crumpled and aged scrap of paper that had been roughly torn from a group photo. The Captain noticed the image was of him. They both sobbed. Havers looked from the photo, back to the Captain, and moved towards his head. Very gently, he placed a kiss on the Captain's forehead. He stayed there for a few seconds before speaking.
"I wish I could have told you everything I'd bottled up. I wish I'd had the confidence to just tell you that day I left for Africa. Don't think I didn't notice the look on your face. I'm sure I harboured the exact same expression. I never wanted to leave you."
The Captain had his head in his hands. Why had this happened? Here Havers was, confessing everything to him, trying to keep himself together, and he could do nothing. All he wanted was to sit next to him, and hold him until the sun set. Yet, here he was. Watching from afar, completely out of reach.
Havers had lifted his hand to the Captain's face, and gently caressed it. He shook his head lightly and exhaled.
"I love you, James," he whispered, barely perceptible.
Heart in his throat, the Captain bit his lip to stop it from wobbling.
"I love you too, Anthony..." he confessed. He took deep, steady breaths and tried to not fall into the symptoms of a panic attack.
Havers stood from where he'd been kneeling. He took his handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his eyes with it, trying to quell the steady flow of tears. The Captain watched him walk over to one of the buffet tables, gently removing the discarded jugs and plates, and he roughly shook the crumbs off the cloth that had adorned it. Brow knitted, he walked over to the Captain's body and gently lay the cloth over him.
The Captain didn't know how much time he'd spent staring at Havers after that, who had decided to stay in the room with him, alone. Havers, with his deep brown eyes, and perfectly trimmed hair. Havers, who's eyes crinkled in the most endearing way whenever he would smile, who's laugh could make the Captain's most dreary of days better.
There was a sudden approach of footsteps. Both the Captain and Havers turned to face the door leading out of the hall and towards the front porch. It was Cartwright. The Captain went and stood directly next to Havers, unwilling to leave his side. Havers had narrowed his eyes, and was radiating a tremendous amount of anger. He seemed almost angier than he had before, when instructing for the retrieval of a medic.
"You have no right to be here," Havers said, bluntly.
"I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to..." Cartwright trailed off.
"The Captain was twice the man you'll ever be, Cartwright. Why couldn't you have just kept your mouth shut?" Havers snapped.
Cartwright looked taken aback by Havers' outburst, but didn't respond. He just nodded forlornly and left the room. Not long after he left, a few medics came into the room.
"Where the bally hell were you when he needed you?" Havers shot at them. He immediately regretted his tone, as they looked genuinely upset about the situation.
"I'm sorry," he exhaled. He took one last look at the Captain's body, and headed outside, where everyone else was gossiping amongst each other. There was a noticeable hush that fell over the group as he stepped through the doorway and the Captain, who had of course followed him, noticed how few would meet Havers' eyes. He strode past everyone, not saying a word, and headed for the gates at the edge of the property. There were a few glares from some of the officers as he walked off, like they were trying so very hard to figure out why a Major would care so much about his Captain from five years ago. The Captain couldn't bring himself to care about what conclusions they came to, their opinions were of no consequence to him anymore. Havers on the other hand, he didn't want him to suffer the ramifications of openly grieving him.
The Captain followed Havers all the way down the drive, until the main road was visible. Havers paused, and glanced back up at the estate, looking straight through the Captain, who's heart was breaking. The look in Havers' eyes would haunt him forever, and he would do anything, anything to soothe the pain he was feeling.
"Goodbye, James," he whispered.
The Captain shook his head. Absolutely not. He would be accompanying Havers wherever he went, no question. So when Havers left the property, the Captain went to follow him. And found he couldn't.
What? he thought.
He was facing the wrong way. He spun around and ran at the gate again.
Pop. Right back to where he started.
"What the - " he mumbled.
He ran at the gate again.
And again.
And again.
But Havers had kept walking, and the Captain couldn't go after him. He fell to his knees, and sobbed until his throat went dry.
There was rustling behind him, and quiet whispers. He turned around to see a group of people he had somehow missed when he had left the house. Rising to his feet, he stared at them, frowning. Why was one of them holding a decapitated head?
"Oh, goodness! A new ghost!" one of them, a rather lively young woman cried.
"He didn't gets sucked off," another commented. The Captain felt the tips of his ears burning at that comment.
"Alright, everyone, calm down - I'll handle this," a rather grumpy looking Edwardian woman stepped forwards. A few of the others sighed.
"Hello, there," she said, hands clasped in front of her. She seemed to have angled her head upwards so she could look down her nose at him - the Captain didn't know how to feel about that.
"Oh, um, hello," he said meekly.
"I'm Lady Button - "
" - Fanny - " a caveman (a caveman?) interrupted.
" - quiet, Robin," a well dressed man said. He had a bullet hole in his stomach.
And then it dawned on him. All of these people that could see him, hear him, and were talking to him, were ghosts. He took in a shaky breath and lifted his head.
"Hello, everyone... my name is the Captain and I, uh, I believe I..." he trailed off. He wasn't sure he could say it out loud just yet.
"It's ok," the man with the bullet wound said. "It will take some time for you to adjust. I myself still haven't got over the gross betrayal of - "
"Shut up, Thomas," the caveman intercepted.
"Quite," Lady Button, Fanny, agreed. "Why don't you follow us back into the house, and we can make proper introductions?"
The Captain nodded slowly. He couldn't quite hear all the questions that were being thrown his way, and his ears had started ringing again. He followed the ghosts back towards the house, and tried to focus on the memory of Havers.
Maybe some day they'd see each other again.
He had to hold on to that.
Goodbye, Anthony.
For now, he promised.