Four weeks later…
Jout was walking around the compound, trying to clear his mind. Normally, he would have gone behind barracks 12 in search for privacy, leaning against the barracks wall and staring at the barbed wire fence. This was his favourite place in camp. Well, it was. Because ever since he admitted his feelings for Newkirk to himself, he had avoided this place like the plague. It was too high of a risk that Newkirk would be there too, and then he would have had to talk with him, alone. And that was something he didn't want to. Especially with the current development from the last weeks. Jout had noticed Newkirk's change in behaviour after he got the message from General Gallagher that Ann and Tommy were save. He was completely relieved upon hearing those great news, and LeBeau had opened some wine they had to celebrate. They sat around the common table, and that's when Jout noticed that Newkirk sat closer to him than usual. In fact, he sat so close that they're shoulders were touching. Apparently, no one else in the room noticed this closeness, but Jout was not blind. Ever since then, Jout observed Newkirk. And throughout the last four weeks, Jout discovered little hints that sparked something in him. Jout often caught Newkirk staring at him; sometimes from a close distance when they were in the barracks, and sometimes when they were in the compound. Often he would play volleyball or soccer, and Newkirk sat by the barracks playing gin or checkers. When he glanced in Newkirk's direction, he saw how the Brit was watching him; quickly looking away when he noticed Jout staring in his direction. And Jout had the feeling he could see a longing in Newkirk's eyes. That sparked in him the unrequited lover, who hoped that his love might be interested in him, even though he knew it could not be possible, which was something that didn't help Jout. As long as he was absolutely sure about Newkirk being straight, it was easier trying to ignore his feelings. But now that his infatuated mind had the hopes that Newkirk might be interested in him, his life was utter torture for him.
Stop it! You are just imagining something. Newkirk is straight, end of story. You have other things to deal with right now!
Jout inwardly shuddered. Today was the day Brawley, Fanbrick and Leach would be released from the cooler, which meant to avoid them (which was a bit of a problem in a POW camp) or to find a way to get them to England. But Jout knew his brother would never let them escape; not since the fight and since he partially knew what they have done back in the days. Which only left him with two options: either going behind Hogan's back and get Brawley and his friends back to England by himself, which meant to risk the operation and every man in this camp or doing nothing and let Brawley tell the Germans that he was gay, which would mean unspeakable things being done to him and at last death.
Jout drove with his right hand through his hair. He was only glad that his injuries were healed or almost healed. His wrist was alright again, and the cut on his cheek was not visible anymore. But he was the happiest about the fact that his ribs were not hurting so much anymore, and that he could participate in outside missions again in two to four weeks. They were still a bit sore, but at least he could sleep in his own bunk again.
He walked along the wall of barracks 2 when he suddenly heard someone yelling for him. He turned around and gulped. It was Brawley with his friends Fanbrick and Leach! Before Jout could react, Brawley was already in front of him.
"Hogan, how are you feeling?" Brawley asked. "I can see that your injuries are healed. Isn't that great?"
Jout backed away slightly against the wall. "Yeah, it's great. And by the way, thanks for causing them" His voice turned serious. "What do you want from me?"
"You know what we want," said Brawley. "Our freedom. And you're going to help us achieve that"
"You wish! This prison is the right place for criminals like you, and for all I care, you and your friends can rotten in here"
Brawley only laughed. "Oh, Hogan. Eager to meet Kisro, are we?"
"You have no right to utter George's name, Brawley," Jout hissed. "Not after what you have done to him"
"My, my. I haven't done anything to him. He wanted it," said Brawley with a smug face.
It took Jout all his mental strength to not just punch Brawley in the face. But he calmed himself down, thinking that he was a better person than Brawley, and that he didn't need to place himself on the same level with him.
"If you don't mind," Jout calmly said. "I would like to go to my barracks"
He tried to go away, but Brawley pushed him against the wall. All the while, Fanbrick and Leach stood behind Brawley like little puppies, not knowing what to do without their master.
"Listen to me, Hogan. You will regret it if you don't help us get back to England. Your brother will learn what kind of deviant you are, and then he will turn his back on you. And don't think we will simply spill your secret to the Germans and let them kill you. Oh no, not before we had some fun" Brawley moved closer to Jout and ran his hand across Jout's chest and stomach. "We're gonna make your life a living hell"
Jout pushed his hand away and warned him. "Take your filthy hands away from me, or you are the one who's going to regret his actions" Then he added, "Oh, and go ahead. I can take the heat"
Brawley placed his right hand next to Jout's head, trapping him in between the wall and him. Then he pressed his left hand onto Jout's still sore ribs, which resulted in a sharp pain rushing through his body. He tried to wriggle himself out of this position, but Brawley was too strong. He moved his head to Jout's ear and whispered, "You have one month to decide what to do. Either you help us, and everything will be fine, or we'll let the Germans decide what to do with you"
Jout closed his eyes and tried to block out the pain spreading in his body. He only hoped that Brawley was finished soon and let him go away.
Suddenly, Jout heard someone saying, "You have two seconds to step away from him, or I will personally make sure you go back in the cooler"
Jout opened his eyes and turned his head towards the familiar voice. It was Hogan, and behind him stood Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, and Newkirk. Anger was flashing in his brown eyes.
Brawley adjusted Jout's jacket on his shoulders and retreated from him and said, "Anyways, I just wanted to apologize for my behaviour. I hope you can forgive me" He stretched his hand out.
Under the suspicious eyes of his brother and friends, Jout shook Brawley's hand. Brawley and his friends walked away, quickly saluting Hogan as they passed him and while Jout leaned back against the barracks' wall again, glad that the situation was over and that he got another month to figure out the mess he was in, Hogan and the others walked over to him.
They gathered around him and Hogan asked, "Is everything alright, Josh? What did he want from you?"
"He only wanted to apologize," lied Jout.
He knew his brother wouldn't believe that, but right now he didn't have the nerve to make up a story. As he turned his head he saw Newkirk looking at him, his eyes full of worry. Jout quickly looked away, still unsure of how to act around the Brit.
"And that's why he pressed you against the wall, hurting your ribs?"
Jout glanced to the ground. "I don't know what you're talking about. Brawley simply apologized, and that's it" He looked up again, directly in Hogan's eyes and held his brother's gaze. "I'm going to the barracks now, catching up on some sleep"
Jout left the group and went away. As he turned left and disappeared behind the barracks, Hogan turned to his men, pinching the back of his nose.
"What are we going to do now, Colonel?" asked Carter.
"Yeah," LeBeau chipped in. "Brawley obviously doesn't leave Jout alone. And he defends him"
Hogan leaned against the wall and rubbed his hand across his forehead. "Until I've figured out how to get Josh to talk, you guys won't leave him alone. Someone will always be around him, in and outside the barracks. Even if he goes to the latrines. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" his men said in union.
Hogan and the others walked back to the barracks. They found Jout lying in his bunk above the tunnel entrance, apparently sleeping. Since there was currently no mission from London, the men had some free time which they used to rest or to live the boring life of a normal prisoner. Kinch read a book in his bunk, LeBeau cooked at the stove, and Newkirk and Carter played gin at the common table. Hogan darted a last glance at his younger brother, wishing he would trust him and tell him what exactly had happened between him and Brawley.
Oh, Josh. Why do you feel like you can't tell me what's troubling you? Why do you defend this guy? What has he done to you?
One week later…
Jout sat on the bench outside the barracks, trying to absorb the last rays of sunshine. He had his eyes closed and leaned with his head against the wall, simply enjoying the warmth. Next to him sat Newkirk, playing checkers against himself. LeBeau and Carter were currently playing volleyball with the other prisoners while Kinch was manning the radio and Hogan was in his office, doing paperwork for Klink.
Though it was a beautiful day and there weren't any missions planned for the day, Jout had a hard time really enjoying himself. Who would have, if he knew there would be good chance that he died in four weeks? Since his little encounter with Brawley, Jout constantly thought about the tight corner he was in and weighed the possibilities he had. And he was seriously considering letting Brawley tell the Germans about his preference for men. Of course he loved his life, but he tried to be realistic. He wouldn't be able to get them out of Germany on his own, which meant he had to convince his brother to let them escape. And he knew Hogan would never risk the life of every prisoner in this camp to get three criminals to England; and with that risking Klink's record of no escapes. A thought Jout completely supported. His only other option was to tell his brother everything, but he could not get himself to do that. It would be already hard enough to see Hogan turn his back on him when the Germans would tell him that his little brother was a deviant. Telling it to him in person would only make things much harder, and in the end his relationship with Hogan would be destroyed either way. Jout was sure that he would not accept the fact that he was gay; like many other high-ranking officers in the military. Their thinking was always the same, and it disgusted Jout. It was alright for those officers that gay men were risking their lives for their country and die, as long as they didn't openly say they were gay. If someone did, they would make sure he left the military by his own choice. He had seen it often enough. Especially colonels knew how to break someone mentally.
Jout was taken out of his thoughts by Newkirk asking, "Isn't it a beautiful day? It's too bad 'at autumn starts soon"
Jout opened his eyes and turned his head to Newkirk. That was another reason why he had a hard time concentrating on the mess he was in. Since the day Brawley was released from the cooler, his friends made sure he was never alone. It was probably Hogan who had ordered them to do so. Jout didn't know for sure what exactly Hogan had ordered them, but he was not blind. At first, he thought he was imagining something, but two events confirmed his observation. One was that miraculously always one of his friends had to go to the latrines just when he had to. But Carter's behaviour two days ago confirmed it at last. Garlotti and Olsen had asked everyone in the barracks if they wanted to join their football match. All the men said yes, except Jout. He never was fond of the game and figured he could use the time to write a letter to Ann. Suddenly Carter decided he was not in the mood to play after all, and that he could just as well write a letter to his mother too. Since then Jout knew for sure that one of his friends always stuck around him.
And it was not the fact that they were always following him that made it hard for him to concentrate. But Newkirk had apparently decided to make it his personal mission to always be the one around him. Only if he had to tailor some uniforms or forge papers for Hogan he would leave his side. For one week now, Newkirk was almost constantly around Jout; and that was Jout's biggest problem of all. A part of him enjoyed the time they spent together. He would play cards or checkers with the Brit while being deeply involved in a conversation with him. He loved how every time Newkirk talked about London or his family, his grey-green eyes would light up and he would smile from ear to ear. But the other part of him feared the feelings he had for him, and that they would only intensify the more time he spent with Newkirk.
Jout sighed. His life was a complete mess. Whether it was Brawley who threatened him or Newkirk who didn't leave him alone.
"Your right," Jout answered at last. His glance drifted back to the volleyball match. "I can't believe I'm already in this camp for six months. It seems so much longer"
"What should I say?" exclaimed Newkirk. "I'm locked up in this rat hole for three years and four months now!"
Jout looked to the ground. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to relativise your time here"
At the sad tone of the other man's voice, Newkirk glanced up from the checkers board. Unconsciously, he laid a hand on Jout's thigh. " 'ey, mate. Nothin' to worry about. Bein' locked up in a POW camp is always crappy; whether it's been months or years"
He suddenly realised where his hand was and quickly pulled it away. As Newkirk looked down at the checkers board again, trying to avoid the American's glance, Jout felt a sudden rush of sadness going through his body, because he liked the tingling that Newkirk's hand had caused. But he knew that every touch from Newkirk would make it harder for him to decide what to do with Brawley, and therefore, he tried to ignore it.
"I know what you mean, Newkirk," Jout absently said. "You have no idea how well I know it"