"What's the matter? Bad news?" Elijah asked as he joined Gavin for lunch. It had been a regular thing over the past few weeks, and he was pleased to say that their relationship had never been better. Gavin was currently holding a fancy piece of paper that looked rather official. His jaw was working slowly as he almost glared at the swirling text. He glanced up with an unsatisfied grunt before pushing it across. "Oh…" His discharge papers had arrived. He'd expected it, of course, but the sting was still there.
"Yeah, oh…" Elijah sighed sympathetically as he sat down. "I'm getting the wound chevron." That was something. It was an honourable thing. It acknowledged his service, and let others know that he was a hero who'd been honourably discharged. He couldn't help noticing that Gavin seemed less than pleased. There was something bitter in his lingering gaze. He looked like he'd just chewed a lemon.
"And so you should! You were injured in battle." Elijah fully supported the decision. He looked over the letter. It sent the standard official sympathy of the force, thanking him for his years of dedicated service. They wished him luck and a speedy recovery, and upon his return, he would be awarded the wound chevron in recognition of his bravery and the loss he'd suffered. Despite the kind wording of the letter and Elijah's agreement, Gavin scoffed.
"Injured in battle! I got caught in a shell blast halfway across the line! It wasn't a battle! I didn't fight anyone! I was phcking fodder!" Elijah winced sympathetically as he lowered the paper. If he didn't know better, he'd say this was the first time Gavin had opened up about the experience. He was breathing hard after his bitter outburst.
"That isn't fair at all…It was a battle. It's just that warfare looks a lot different these days." That much was certainly true. A few years back, they didn't have even half the shit they had now. Chlorine gas bombs, shells, Gatling guns, landmines, tanks. Elijah shuddered at the injuries he'd seen and treated since they'd joined the war. Grim, gruesome injuries he'd never even dreamed of. Cruel as it was, he was relieved Gavin had taken a shell the way he had and not some of the other options. At least this way he could regain his mobility and independence.
"I barely made it halfway and ended up face down in the dirt!"
"And you wouldn't have been there at all if you hadn't been fighting for your country! You served for years! You deserve to have that recognised!" Gavin was still unconvinced. He certainly didn't feel like a fucking hero. Sure, he'd fought well over the years. He'd done his fair share of killing, and he'd saved others more than once, but this wasn't how he'd wanted to go out. No one was saved by him. No enemies had fallen by his hand. He hadn't even raised his rifle. A shell had blown up and almost drowned him in the sludge. He'd almost gotten Nines killed by being a burden he had to save.
"I almost drowned in trench mud! Some phcking hero!" He shuddered as he remembered it. The pressing weight of his pack on his back forcing him down. Too dazed and weak to turn over. The overwhelming fatigue. Giving up. Thick, rotting, cloying sludge on his face. The burn in his lungs as he failed to breathe in through the blockage. It was probably lucky that he hadn't been strong enough to take in that sludge. That would have clogged his lungs and killed him for sure.
"You're my hero…" Elijah murmured, giving him a small smile as he scoffed in disbelief. He was pretty sure he was lying, but the sentiment was nice. "I couldn't be more proud…I mean it." If he thought it would cheer him up, he would have mentioned that their father was just as proud, but Gavin hadn't spoken to him in years. Not since he'd found out about his mother. Gavin fell silent, quietly accepting the praise. He shoved the letter back in the envelope. He'd toss it in a drawer somewhere later and forget about it.
"How was your morning?" Gavin grumbled, effectively changing the subject. Elijah allowed it. There was no way he could argue him out of his opinion. It seemed better to try diverting his attention to something else. He paused to thank the maid as she brought their usual tea, sandwich, and cake selection before responding.
"I've been trying to figure out a way of introducing individual finger movements to my latest arm prosthetic…So far, I've only been able to open and close the hand as a whole…Individual finger motion may be a little too ambitious for now. The open and close functionality relies on movements in the shoulder. Moving forwards will open, and backwards will close. It's a rather simple design…Introducing individual finger motions into the mix is proving a lot more difficult…It may be easier to make it electronic, which then brings in the problem of power. No one wants to carry a battery pack around in their pocket!" Gavin nodded his agreement. Batteries were large, cumbersome things about the size of a hip flask. It could also be a problem if the prosthetic needed a lot of power. Batteries were short-lived.
"Sounds like you're a little ahead of your time." In the future, he had no doubt they'd have better batteries, or maybe even a new type of power completely. Hell, maybe in the future they'll be able to grow new limbs altogether! That was a thought. He wasn't sure how he'd feel about that. Sure, he'd love to have his leg back, but would it really be his leg? And how would they attach it? Open him up again and stitch it on? That didn't seem practical, and even if it worked, it would probably hurt more than getting used to the prosthetic. A few months back, he would have jumped at the chance, but now? He'd probably stick with the prosthetic. Better the devil you know…
"Perhaps, but I'll keep trying…Who knows? If I don't make a breakthrough, maybe someone in the future will find my work and it will help them." That was the good thing about science. It didn't stop, and it could always be built on later. Even if your idea sounded crazy, and people said it would never happen, if you put enough research into it, then someone else may pick it up in the future. He was pretty sure people had said that about a lot of things, especially technology. Cars, airplanes, maybe even boats at the very start. People had tried, failed, and tried again. Other people had picked up the idea and improved on it. "Speaking of, how's your leg? Has the fit improved?"
"Yeah, I'd say so…Still uncomfortable, but it doesn't hurt anywhere near as much as it did," Gavin replied as he rested a hand on his knee. Elijah nodded his satisfaction. Over the next few weeks, he hoped that the pain would fade altogether. The real pain, that is. He still didn't have a solution for the phantom pain. That was likely a problem for psychiatrists to figure out. All he could really do was offer pain medication and hope that it helped. He'd actually started giving placebos to some patients dealing with phantom pain to see if it was psychological. Curiously enough, the placebo medication often had no effect. The patients still felt pain. Which suggests it's physical, but with the limb gone…
"You look tired. Have you been sleeping? I know the past few nights have been…difficult…" That was an understatement. It was early summer, which mean changing weather. Changing weather meant more storms. Storms meant thunder and lightning. Thunder and lightning meant unhappy trauma victims. He knew he had it easy. His reaction was pretty much the same as last time. Spiralling thoughts, creeping memories, and more pain than usual. While he'd huddled under the covers trembling and crying for Nines, doing his best not to focus on the lingering sound of falling shells, he'd heard loud cries and groans echoing through the halls outside. Some patients, especially the newer men, had severe reactions to loud noises. It didn't help that the thunder actually sounded like rumbling shells in the distance, and the flashing lightning flared like explosions in the night.
"I've been better, but it's not so bad." By that, he meant not as bad as some of the others. He still had a shitty time and was too scared to close his eyes, flinching and whimpering with each crack, hiding under the duvet to escape the flashes. Sometimes, he cried himself out, missing Nines more than ever. He usually buried his face and chest in a pillow and did his best to imagine it was him, pretending he was there, calming him with gentle words.
"I could prescribe you something to help you sleep." Gavin appreciated the offer, but he didn't want to load himself up on drugs. He was cutting back as much as possible. If he could get through the day without popping pills, he'd do it. He had a pretty good pain threshold overall. He could cope with a lot. The ointment was all he used daily, and he only reached for the pills on the worst nights with his phantom pain. Elijah admired his fortitude, but insisted the offer was still there if he changed his mind. Hopefully, these storms will only be around for a few days…
Elijah returned to work not long after, which left Gavin at a loose end. He sighed as he thought of Nines. No word had come in almost a month. He checked with Chloe every day, but nothing had arrived. She hadn't heard from Connor, either. She kept on telling him not to worry. Post was slow for everyone these days. Deliveries had to change routes to avoid interception. Mail had to be fully assessed before being allowed through. The rise in assaults and pullbacks also slowed things down. Many soldiers were injured or missing, making them harder to track down.
He was relieved when Chloe finally turned up. He hadn't seen her all morning. She was busy with duties, as usual. She looked tired and pale, like many other nurses. The storms meant long nights for her as well. Despite her pale complexion, she was almost glowing as she hurried across to greet him with a kiss on the cheek. She was in a high spirits, and had been for a few days now. She sat down and leaned her head on her chin, tilting her head slightly so that he'd notice the new pin in her hair. Gavin smiled as he noticed.
"That's pretty. Where did you get it?" He knew she was dying to tell him. The pin was quite small and seemed mostly decorative. He wasn't sure what it was made of, but it was almost gold in colour. It was a small, filigree star that twisted in delicate sections and almost glittered in the afternoon light. Chloe beamed as she reached up to finger the small ornament, gently teasing the sharp edges with a careful finger.
"Elijah…He made it for me." Gavin smiled at that. It seemed his brother had listened to his advice. Chloe was clearly over the moon. He had to admit, he was surprised. He'd never dreamed Elijah would actually make her jewellery himself. That was beyond romantic. He'd done a good job, too. I wonder how many times he tried before he got it right. He knew he had the materials lying around. He had a whole room of mechanical odds and ends to choose from. That he'd made it himself meant it was even more special.
"Oh yeah? He did a good job!" He really wouldn't have known if she hadn't said. Maybe it wasn't flashy and intricate like the ones rich ladies wore, and it wasn't dazzling with jewels, but it was still pretty. He must have shaved down all the edges to make it safe, too. He could picture him doing that, maybe in the dead of night when Chloe was sleeping in her room or busy with patients. "When did he give it to you?" He certainly hadn't said anything, but then, his relationship was his business.
"Last night…He took me on a date. Well, it was in his room, but there was dinner and dancing." He didn't even realise Elijah owned a music system. Maybe he borrowed the record player from the drawing room…Whatever the case, it was nice that he'd doted on Chloe for a change. He'd seen them together a little more often over the past few weeks. Elijah had been a little more openly affectionate, resting a hand on her hip as he passed by, kissing her forehead when they parted, and taking her hand as they sat together.
"Well, good. I'm glad you had a nice date." He wasn't going to bring up Connor and what all this meant for them. Only time would tell whether Elijah was doing enough to fully win her back. Still, it's going well enough for her to go to his room…Though the storm must have interrupted them somewhat later on in the evening. Despite the interruption, he was pretty sure they'd done more than dancing. She really was delighted. She beamed at him, clearly happy with their progress. "Anything today?" He tried not to sound too hopeful, busying himself with his tea as he waited. She didn't need to ask what he meant.
"Nothing so far…" She held back from apologising. He'd told her more than once it wasn't her fault. It was just the mail being slow. That's what it was. It wasn't because Nines had forgotten to write back, or he'd found someone else, or something bad had happened. It wasn't. Another letter would come soon. He was sure of it. He kept repeating the positive little mantra in his head. Chloe's smile faltered somewhat as she nodded. She knew he was disappointed. They were both worried. Heaven forbid anything happen to the brothers. She wanted all three to come back safe. "Have some cake." Gavin huffed softly as she snapped up one of the small cupcakes left over from lunch. Elijah wasn't one for sweets, and Gavin hadn't quite made it that far.
"You want some tea, too?" He still had quite a bit left in the pot, and it wasn't like Elijah was going to come back to use his cup. Chloe beamed as she poured. She seemed ravenous as she plucked a scone from the rack and lathered on some cream and jam. She probably hadn't had a chance to each much since the night before. "Whoa, are you seriously just eating cream with a spoon?" He chuckled as Chloe shamelessly popped the spoonful of clotted cream in her mouth, sucking it off with a blissful hum.
"You should try it! It's delicious!" Gavin shook his head fondly as he bit into a buttered scone. He didn't dislike cream, but he wasn't about to spoon it like yoghurt. It was nice, having sweets for a change. It was something you didn't really get out on the front. Not unless someone from home sent a care package. He'd never gotten one, but a lot of guys were nice enough to share out things like that. It was a good moral booster for the men. It also got them favours. Maybe someone would make them tea more often, or they'd give them one of their ration packs as thanks, or cigarettes. Maybe I could send something to Nines…Not sponge cake. That would never last the trip, but maybe a fruitcake, or some cookies…"Chloe, can we go to town?"