For King And Country (not mine)

Winter 1941

January 4th 1941
"Communications have come from HQ, sir," Hughes said. "My apologies for collecting it. I knew that Lieutenant Havers was with you, and the others were all busy with various tasks."
"Even Jeffreys?" Havers asked, looking up from the report he was currently 'working on'. The Captain took a puff of his pipe to distract himself for a moment.
Jeffreys was usually the main communicator between the lower-ranking officers and Havers, who in turn reported to the Captain only. He was awake at all hours and barely ever tired.
He was hardly ever too busy to pick up smaller tasks that Havers was sometimes unable to complete because of larger responsibilities.
"Yes, sir," Hughes said. "He was too busy writing a letter home. He asked me to collect it and bring it up here on his behalf. His mother is ill in hospital, you see. She doesn't have long left. He's very worried about her, he's in constant communication with her doctors."
"I wasn't aware of that." Havers mused, leaning back in his seat a little and adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Come to think of it, he has been acting differently as of late. Have you noticed anything strange, Captain?"
The Captain looked back to Havers as he spoke. "I suppose there have been a few issues, now that you mention it." He trailed off. He paused for a moment, tearing his eyes from Havers with some difficulty. "Thank you, Private."
He held out his hand and Hughes crossed the room to pass a telegram to him.
"Please inform Lieutenant Jeffreys that either myself or Lieutenant Havers shall want to speak with him in the morning before the usual briefing."
"Yes, sir."
"Dismissed."
Hughes turned on his heel and left, closing the door gently behind him. The Captain followed, locking the door once again.
It was only when it settled into its place that the Pavlovian response seemed to settle into the bones of the men remaining in the room. The Captain leaned back against it, his body feeling far too heavy for his liking.
The two of them waited for the sound of boots on hardwood floors to retreat before breaking the silence.
"That was awfully close," Havers whispered from across the room.
"It was, wasn't it?" The Captain whispered back, puffing on his pipe some more, eyes trained ahead of him.
Havers stood and meandered over to the Captain slowly as if to avoid spooking him. When he was standing in front of his superior, he gently tilted the Captain's face up towards his with a finger under the chin.
The Captain's eyes focused on Havers as the Lieutenant extracted the pipe from his mouth and put it into his own, having a brief turn himself.
It was awfully attractive.
"You should really stop wearing my glasses, you know." The Captain said, trying to distract himself. "Your eyes might start relying on them."
"They do help. Especially when it's late and the lights make my eyes strain." Havers said, taking them off and handing them back for the Captain to tuck into his pocket. "I get awful headaches." "You should go to see-"
"They have enough of their plates without me complaining of headaches. I will not schedule a medical appointment just for that." Havers interrupted. The Captain sighed fondly.
His heart was still pounding from the stress of having Hughes so close to discovering them. If they had forgotten to lock the bolt, if Hughes had mistaken any noise for the Captain calling for him to enter, things could have ended very differently.
There was something in the back of his mind that made him feel like this was going to end badly. He and Havers would be pulled apart. Havers' bravery, his rank, his skills ... they would be noticed sooner or later. The numbers on the front lines would dwindle the longer the war went on, and they would need every fit and able man.
Though the Captain was no spring chicken, his knees and his back creaking and cracking more and more each day, he may even be called to fight, too.
The Eleven would get a new commanding officer, and if the Captain survived the war, he may return to Button House after his service to find the home to be nothing more than a house teeming with the dregs of what had once been.
The group may be split up and sent away. Some would die abroad or get injured, many would return not the same.
All that would be left to remember them was a manor house and the small faction of personnel who served beside them. That was if any of them survived.
The Captain would be taken away, he was sure of it. Every year, a new group of boys reached the age to enlist, and people needed to be on the front as quick as possible.
Havers might even get a promotion and be sent to a front somewhere as well.
Would they still have an excuse to write now that they were no longer working together? Would someone find it suspicious if they did?
And after the war ended and the dust settled ... what then? Would they be able to return to this? They would certainly not be the same. The Captain knew that. He had seen it before with his own father, who had become a different man after serving in the Great War.
A drinker, a shell of what he had once been. Nightmares most nights, the sudden bursts of anger.
The sound of the Captain's mother crying in her room when she thought none of them could hear.
That was what he remembered from his childhood. That was what war had done to his family.
And yet his father still wanted all of his sons to get involved with the same career. All of them had done it no questions asked. A strange desire, indeed.
The Captain couldn't bear to think of being like that with Havers. He did not want to subject them to a life of hiding. He didn't want to wake up screaming, frighten his love and be so afraid of his own mind that he could no longer cope with life outside of a battlefield.
It would be a death sentence for Havers, feeling like he must care for his captain through the terrors in his mind.
No, this could not go on.
"Teddy, what's going on? You've got that look in your eye again." Havers said, placing a gentle hand on the Captain's cheek. 
"What look?"
"When you start to shut down."
"Shut down? What do you mean?"
"You try to rationalise all your feelings. It makes you push me away." The Captain felt sick.
Havers was right. Shutting himself away again.
That was all he really did, wasn't it? He had to stop this. He had to allow Havers to have a chance, with someone who would give him more.
"I suppose it's because I am."
"Talk to me." Havers pulled him over to the desk, perching on the edge with the Captain in front of him, holding his superior's hands within his own. "What's got you into a twist?"
"You deserve more than this, Will." The Captain whispered. The words felt heavy, weighing down his tongue.
"I know very well what I deserve," Havers answered. "And that's you. It's the greatest honour to be cared for so deeply by you, to be allowed to care for you as well."
"But you have no future with me. We can't have a family. Not the one that people expect."
"Who cares what people expect? I'm a better uncle than I could ever be a father. I wouldn't know how to handle a child of my own. And what about that home we've been talking about? We could go somewhere near the sea. I could teach you how to avoid killing every houseplant known to man."
The Captain couldn't help but laugh at that. He'd always loved houseplants. His mother had been a real green thumb, it was one of the few positive memories he had from childhood. But he'd not inherited that same talent with plants, to his dismay.
"I think I'm a natural predator to them. They all seem to hate me."
"Impossible. I shall teach you everything my mother taught me about how to care for a garden."
Havers insisted. "And you can teach me to cook more than whatever meagre things we get in ration packs. There is a life after war, after serving for so long. And I intend to live it to the fullest with you."
"These are the things you should teach your children." The Captain said. "Why do you wish to spend your life with me? Wouldn't you grow tired of never being able to hold my hand or kiss me in public without fear? We will never be like everyone else."
"What's got you thinking so morbidly tonight?" Havers asked. "You already have my apologies for the situation with Elise, but I promise-"
"I think you should continue stepping out with her, Will." The Captain blurted out. Havers went silent, eyes searching for some kind of lie in his face. "You should do all the things you're expected of. Marry her, have a family and a home."
"I don't want to do any of those things with her." Havers said.
"You must."
"Why?"
"Because of everything I have already said and more!" The Captain said in exasperation, extracting his hands from Havers' and retreating to the window again.
The curtains were still drawn, and there was nothing interesting about the fabric. But now, it was a much-needed distraction from the inevitable heartbreak that this would cause.
"Why can't you just believe that you're enough for me?" Havers asked. "What part of my wanting you do you not understand?"
"A life with me is hardly a life."
"So you want me to ... I'm - I'm just supposed to walk out of here and pretend like you're not putting an end to everything we've been through?  Does that mean nothing to you?!"
Havers raised his voice as loud as he dared, the anger barely concealed. It wasn't true anger. It was more frustration and sadness than anything else. The Captain knew that and tried valiantly not to bite back in response.
"It means everything!" He answered. "But I will not subject you to misery."
"I'm not miserable!"
"Not now." The Captain said. "But you will become dissatisfied, and you will resent me. And that
... that I can't bear. You love me, yes?"
"Irrevocably."
"Then I won't watch you fall out of love with me."
"You're trying to predict the future as if you know for certain what's going to happen," Havers said. He stood, walked to the window and pressed himself against the Captain, looping his arms around the older man's shoulders and resting his head on the Captain's shoulder. "You're breaking my heart, Teddy."
"It's breaking mine, too." The Captain replied, placing a hand over Havers' joined ones. "But it's for the best."
Havers shook his head in disagreement, closing his eyes tightly, a final barrier against the tears threatening to spill. "It's not." He whispered. "Please. Don't do this."
"I've said what I've said, William. I can't take it back now. It would always be preying on our minds after this." The Captain's voice cracked as he spoke. "Though, I must assure you that this last year has been the happiest of my life. I never thought it was possible to love someone this much. I'm sorry to be saying all of this under such sad circumstances. But if I don't say it now, I fear I never will."
Havers hugged him more tightly for a moment, then pulled away to turn the Captain around and press one more kiss against his lips, memorising as much as he could.
The Captain could be stubborn, and if Havers ever managed to convince him that this was worth trying again, then it would be a long time in the future.
When they pulled apart, they leant their foreheads together, savouring every second. As soon as Havers left, that would be it. Unless there was a sudden, drastic change of mind at the last minute, then this would be their parting.
Would it be better or worse that they would work together all day every day?
They were only taking the romance aspect out of their lives. They would still see each other.
Neither was going to the front anytime soon.
"I adore you," Havers said. "If your mind changes ... you must tell me. I will not marry Elise or continue anything with her, no matter how much you encourage me to. My heart will always be yours. If it's just the fatalist war attitude that's brought this on, I shall wait until the war is over for you."
"Will-"
"You've made your choice, and I am making mine." Havers interrupted. "I can't love another. Especially not a woman. So I will be just down the corridor in case you want to go back on your decision tonight. If your feelings for me change, if you're the one to fall out of love with me ... then we shall cross that bridge when we get to it. But I'm choosing to wait."
The Captain sniffled, nodded and stepped away. Havers was as stubborn as he was at times. It could lead them to bump heads and argue, but it was part of Havers, and the Captain loved it anyway. He knew he'd do the same if he were in Havers' position.
"It's late. We should both be heading to bed. You go first. I'll leave in ten minutes so as not to draw suspicion. You're dismissed, Lieutenant Havers."
Havers clenched his jaw, swallowing past the pain at not hearing his first name fall from the Captain's mouth. He nodded.
"Goodnight, Captain."
He turned and left, hands trembling as they fumbled with the lock. He managed to keep his facade together until he returned to his room. The Captain waited ten minutes, the most agonising of his life, until he believed it safe to leave.
It was only there, in the safety of a room that he could hardly call his own anymore after all the time it had been shared with another, that he allowed himself to weep for what was lost.