Chapter 19 #3
“There is,” Elliot insisted, his chest aching with the sick knowledge he could easily have been in the same situation, with no one to speak to.
No one who understood him. “And I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge it sooner.
I could have—I don’t know…” Elliot scrubbed at his scalp and fought to do the one thing he was usually good at, finding the right words.
“We have more in common than you think.”
Charbonneau flushed red, his face twisting with rage as he struggled to get up again. “If you are saying that Ollie—that you and he—”
Elliot’s stomach plunged and his lungs froze. “No! Christ, man. Let me speak. I'm not saying that at all.” Could he possibly cock this up more? “I know you’re not this dense when you’re sober.”
Charbonneau’s brows drew together, and he looked like a confused, lost puppy as he wearily ran a hand through his once cropped brown hair. Now it was overgrown and shaggy. Like all of them, he sorely required a cut. “And you are not usually so god damned shit headed at making sense.”
Cracking an unwilling smile, Elliot rubbed at his jaw.
“If you’d actually listen to me instead of wildly jumping to conclusions, you would know I’m saying I have similar interests.
” Elliot glanced over his shoulder to ensure they were absolutely alone, then whispered, “You prefer men? Or you enjoy them at least? I do as well. Swift was more than a teammate to you. He was…yours. Wasn’t he? ”
Charbonneau let out a shuddering breath, glistening eyes dropping to the table in front of him. After a tense moment, he gave a faint nod.
“Is there anything I can say or do to help?” Elliot asked. “Absolutely anything?”
Skeptically, Charbonneau glanced up at him with one dark brow perfectly arched. “Can you turn back time and fix it?”
“I wish I could.”
“Then no.” They were silent for a while, Elliot miserably searching for something to say, Charbonneau seeming lost in his own thoughts.
“We all have sacrifices to make in this godforsaken whoreson of a war. I’ve lost so many I lose count.
The only thing to be done is continue.” Charbonneau’s expression was grim, and he held Elliot’s gaze for a long moment before his focus drifted. “That is all.”
Elliot’s guts twisted and clenched. “If I could go back and trade places, I would. I hope you know I would never have sacrificed him.”
“Ta gueule,” he spat, hands flying up in exasperation.
“C’est pas possible comment que t’es stupide.
Of course, je le sais.” Charbonneau pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a gusty exhale.
Elliot could see the restraint it was taking him not to keep cursing and was oddly touched.
“He is your first loss as commander. I would say to you it becomes easier, for some it might,” he trailed off, examining Elliot with all the intensity of a drunken man forcing himself to focus. “For you I suspect no.”
“No,” Elliot agreed, and as much as it splintered his heart he would never wish not to feel this.
He didn’t want to become immune to loss.
He wouldn’t like himself very much if he did.
He swallowed hard against the emotion welling in his throat.
“I can’t bear to think of losing anyone else either.
I’ll keep doing everything in my power to see you all through to the end of this.
I don’t want anyone else sacrificing themselves on my behalf. ”
Charbonneau nodded, and if he was thinking what Elliot was, about how he’d so roundly failed already, at least he had the grace not to say it. “You will do what you can.”
“Right,” Elliot steeled himself for another outburst. “And that includes looking out for Sullivan.”
Charbonneau waved a hand at Elliot dismissively. “I don’t blame him, if that’s what this is about. I’m not so stupid as that. How could I explain why I was angry? Without saying.”
Elliot nodded, relieved. “I don’t want to have to ask this, but I have to know that when the time comes, and we’re in the field again, you’ll be focused on what must be done. Can you swear to me you’ll inform me if that isn’t the case?”
Charbonneau’s mouth pressed into a firm line, and a spark of indignation lit his eyes. “Absolument.”
Inclining his head in appreciation, Elliot added, “And if you need to talk about anything, it’s entirely confidential.”
“Pas maintenant,” Charbonneau said, hardly managing to stifle a yawn. He stared at a spot over Elliot’s shoulder. “Perhaps not later, either. I do not know. Talking is…” He flapped a hand.
“Right. Let’s get you up the stairs without breaking your neck, yes? That sounds like a suitable alternative for the time being,” Elliot suggested, taking his cue for a change of subject to a safer one.
At that, Charbonneau cracked a half-smile that Elliot returned. He hoped the fact that Charbonneau didn’t have to button up his feelings entirely might help in some way. Even if he didn’t want to speak of it, perhaps simply knowing he could would prove a relief.