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1800 hours.
The words, full of a suffocating sort of promise, had been echoing around the Captain's office since they were spoken just hours earlier. The old grandfather clock had struck the time minutes ago, and there was still no sign of Havers at the gate, but the Captain kept vigilant. Just in case- in case of what, he didn't know, but it couldn't hurt to be prepared to watch Havers leave for the last time.
The last time. He would watch his Lieutenant go, unlikely to return, and curse that his cowardice kept him safe. Words such as I object! turned over in the Captain's mind, almost startling a laugh out of him, sobered by the thought that it was not another life Havers was binding himself to- in fact, it was likely death.
The sound of gunshots interrupted his train of thought. Gunshots that Havers would be subjected to on the front, with a gun of his own, when he hadn't even received his own service revolver yet-
The gunshots came again, more insistently. Hang on, Gunshots? Oh, no. Knocking at the door.
"Enter!" The Captain called, rather hastily, retreating to his desk from the window to try seem occupied, and cursing whoever was at the door for disturbing his vigil.
As chance would have it, the door swung open to reveal Havers himself, who hastily stepped inside and bolted it behind him.
The Captain attempted to arrange his features into something more inviting than a gape.
"Lieutenant?" He heard the words leave his mouth more than he intentionally spoke them. "Ah, what is the meaning of this? You were due to leave some minutes ago."
"I thought I should come say goodbye again. After all, Sir, North Africa is rather far away." He sounded a little breathless, a curious air of trepidation tugging on the corners of his words.
"That it is, Havers. Distance travelled for King and Country, of course." The response was automatic as he tried to make sense of Havers' presence.
At this, he gave a bitter laugh, tinged with something like regret.
"Permission to be entirely honest, Sir?" Havers asked, apropos of nothing, eyes searching the Captain's face.
"Permission granted. Go ahead." He replied, curious and more than a little wary.
"Is it awfully selfish of me to say I don't entirely want to leave? Of course, I want to do my duty to the country, and I feel I would be of more use on the front line, but-" His speech had been rushed but, at this, he broke off for a moment to regain his composure. "There are certain things that keep me here, too."
"Other than duty, you mean?" The Captain asked, attempting to wrap his head around this sudden outburst.
"Yes, Sir, other than duty." The reply was simple, affirmative.
"Well, I- ah, I fail to see what else could have kept you here if not obligation-"
"Oh, obligation! Damn obligation to Hell and back! My country is dear to me, but I am not obliged to stay or to leave out of my love for Blighty." Havers cut him off a little frantically.
"Then I must confess to be at a loss as to the point you're trying to make, Lieutenant."
"The point- good God, I don't know where the point ends and everything else begins."
"Is it something you can articulate?" He questioned, trying to keep his speech measured.
"You really have no idea, do you?" Although this seemed to be addressed to the Captain, Havers said it quietly, almost wonderingly. "I fear I wouldn't know where to begin if I tried."
The Captain, as he had for the entirely of this short exchange, felt incredibly wrong-footed by this. "You shan't be forced to leave. If you feel you cannot follow through on the transfer-"
"But I must follow through." Havers said desperately, a certain weight to the words to convey their significance. "If I stayed, Sir, I fear that I would do something incredibly foolish."
Oh.
Oh.
Well, that rather explained a lot.
And, Good Lord- reciprocation was completely and utterly terrifying.
"Yes. Um. Jolly good- no! Not, that is to say," The Captain stumbled over his words, watching the realisation that he had finally been understood settle onto Havers' face. An understanding of something, now he came to think of it, that his Lieutenant had been saying rather loudly for months. "What I mean, Havers, is that I also- I have been on the verge of doing something rather foolish, too."
The Lieutenant's face broke into a small, melancholy smile, holding something akin to relief. "I had hopes that I wasn't entirely alone in this. But with my leaving being so soon, I felt as if I should at least try for something more than hope, you see."
"I rather wish you weren't leaving." The Captain took a deep breath, steeled himself for an admission he would not go back on. "I shall miss you, Havers."
"Not my cover drive?" Havers teased. "The Button House Eleven is depleting to the Button House Ten, after all."
"Well, that certainly comes into it." He joked back. "Although perhaps my team will be in with a winning chance now your side has lost their star player."
"Oh, you do flatter me." His expression suddenly turned serious. "I shall miss you too, Sir."
The Captain grimaced, then shook himself. "Apologies, Havers. I rather think we can drop the formalities now. After all, I'm no longer your Commanding Officer."
"Oh, you'll always be my Captain." Havers sighed, and then said simply, as if such an admission were casual: "Well, my name is Anthony. There, you have my name- remember me by it."
"Anthony." The Captain replied vaguely, feeling very much like the floor had been pulled from under him. "James. That, ah, that is to say- my name is James."
"James." Havers- Anthony- repeated. "Thank you. I'll remember you by it, if you like."
At this, the Captain hesitated for a beat. He took a steadying glance out of the nearby window, before turning back. Slowly, as if the movement would incriminate him, he brought his left hand up to his wrist and worked for a moment at the shirtsleeve before withdrawing. Quietly, Havers watched the movement of his hand. When he opened it, there was a cufflink in his palm.
"Remember me by this, too." He said, the words hardly more than a murmur.
Taking a breath as if to ground himself, the Captain stepped closer, crossing the distance with the weight of knowing that it would soon be a chasm broken open by an ocean. Havers swallowed as he finished his approach, subconsciously swaying even closer. Hardly noticing the way it shook, he lifted his hand as if to have the cufflink tipped into it. The Captain regarded it for a moment. Then, he clasped their hands together, the metal of the cufflink a sharp press between them.
"I shall want it back, you know." He said, breaking the thin shroud of silence settled. "When this war is over, and I hear news you have returned from the front with your life intact, I promise I will find you for it."
"I feel that I should give you something in return." Havers' voice was unsure, but otherwise thick with some unplaceable emotion.
"Swear to me that you'll come back. All I want, Anthony, is your safety."
"I swear it." Havers said feverently, voice on the knife-edge of breaking. "With or without God's grace, I'll fight my way back to you."
"Then I can live with that, for however long it takes."
"James, you do know the extent of how I feel, don't you? Everything I can't yet say?" Havers asked quietly, afraid of either the question or the answer.
"I know. Just as there are things that I am leaving unsaid, too." The reply came swiftly, reassuringly.
"Until there is peace?" The question seemed innocuous enough, but weighed heavily on the quiet moment.
"Until times are kinder, yes, and a war isn't keeping us apart." He replied, and hesitated for a moment before continuing. "As your Captain, as you insist I still am, I must tell you that, first and foremost, your duty is to your country. But as a man who lo- as a man, I implore you to remember that you also have a duty to yourself, and to those who care about you. Keep yourself safe."
Havers nodded at this, a slight smile grazing his lips as he moved his gaze to their still-clasped hands. With a fleeting glance to the door- tight shut- something in his eyes steeled and he took a breath. Then, carefully, he lifted their hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to the Captain's knuckles. He gave a cut-off gasp, and Havers let the kiss linger for a moment, eyes briefly falling shut, as he memorised the feel and hushed intimacy of the scene. Then, regretfully, he pulled away, slowly untangling their hands and making sure to put the cufflink safely in his breast pocket.
When he met the Captain's eyes again, they were overspilling with unbridled emotion: half grief, and half something else entirely. Something that, for now, had to remain unnamed. Seeing Havers watch him so intently, he gave a tight lipped smile, tinged with regret.
"Remember me by it." Havers said, the words little more than a breath. "Until we meet again, James."
"Until we meet again, Anthony."
With that, Havers turned to leave, pulling open the door so that a beam of light was cast on the floorboards, illuminating him too. He glanced back at the Captain, committing this last look to memory, and left with a final smile.
The Captain, alone at the end of everything that had come to pass, turned to the window and looked skywards. It was a still night, faint impressions of stars beginning to litter the sky, and he sent up a fervent prayer that he would find Havers again. Even if it he spent until his last moments searching.
Laid on the floorboards of the house he once commanded, heart rapidly giving up on him, the Captain cannot help but feel that he has been cheated by whatever God answered his prayer. Here are his last moments, and here is Havers above him, and there is a gleam of a cufflink at his wrist. He didn't exactly believe it himself, but he at least hoped that they would have time. Now, so much will have to go unsaid.
"I had to find you." The words do not come easily, nor does the movement of his arm, reaching up to Havers' face. To the scars that litter the side of it that show he kept his end of the promise, that he bally well survived.
"I'm here." Their hands entwine again, briefly, but with no less devotion.
"I-" He cannot say he loves him, not now, no matter how much he wants to. There are too many people focused on their every word, and whilst he won't survive this, Havers will live yet.
"I know." Havers says quietly, because of course he does, of course he remembers the promises they made in this very house, several lifetimes ago. He is here with badges for bravery on his chest and a cufflink for a different sort of bravery secured firmly to his shirtsleeve. Two very different wars, one won, another still being fought in its own tragic way.
Havers knows how he feels, knows that he loves him. He knows that Havers feels the same.
In lieu of a cufflink, Havers presses his swagger stick into the Captain's grasp, clasping his hands around it and keeping his own there, not letting go. Holding steadfast, unmoving. Everything else is rushing by, slipping away, but the feeling lingers. The swagger stick pressed to his palms, Havers' hands covering his.
The words are unspoken, but they are as clear as they were the day that Havers left.
Remember me by it.
"Anthony."
"James."
Briefly, there is darkness.
And then, once again, there is light.