Ficlet: Friendship's Pain
Title: Friendship's Pain
Characters: Groves, Gillette
Rating: G, Gen
Word Count: 1114
A random ficlet that snuck out into the LJ post box while I tried to eat my lunch. No idea where it came from, but a little of where its going. Un-beta'd, obviously.
Friendship's Pain
The day they tried to get Theodore Groves to go into the church wasn't a good day. It hadn't started out as a good day, proceeded as a good day, or ended as a good day. So really, in Theo's way of thinking, that made it a rather bad day altogether.
Theo didn't have anything against churches themselves. He thought they were nice buildings- often well-kept and prone to be fancy if located in an important municipal center. He didn't have anything against clerics or vicars or priests or any religious persons in general, either. It was just that he couldn't go into a church.
When he tried to explain this to Andrew, who was a devout church-goer, Andrew didn't believe him.
'You mean you don't want to go into church.'
'No, Drew, I can't. Physically.'
‘Oh come now Ted, don't be a fool and go get dressed.'
He only ever called him Ted when he as trying to persuade him of something. This was fairly often and normally involving the inadvisability of some act or another. And normally Andrew's impeccable logic won out. Not this day however.
- - -
Andrew normally ignored Theo's dislike of attending church. When they were at sea he had to listen to Mass enough that no extreme worry for Theo's soul was warranted. Andrew Gillette might have been rather pugnacious and stubborn about many points, but he was open enough to understand that not everyone liked to attend to church. Theo was, after all, a grown man and his choices were his own.
Christmas Day Mass was something else though. To Andrew's sensibilities there was just something inherently wrong about not attending Christmas Mass. Thus, the reason why he was trying to convince Theo to come.
Theo, however, appeared to have other ideas and was proceeding to make a rather ridiculous argument along the lines of not being capable to go to Mass.
'Ted, you are perfectly capable of getting up, walking, and sitting down. I've never known you to have trouble with stairs, either. Thus, you can physically come to Mass.'
'No, I can't.'
'Theodore-'
'If it wasn't in a church, I could, but Mass on land is usually in a church.'
Andrew was quite irritated with his friend. The abnormal patience and straight-faced flatness of tone was getting to him. Not that getting on Andrew's nerves was a particularly difficult task- Theo managed it on a regular basis. But that was by being a fool and a joker, not by being serious.
- - -
Theo drummed his fingers against his arm and watched Andrew stew and fume. The man was about to blow his lid at any minute. Vaguely amused, Theo counted under his breath,
'One... two... three... four... fi-'
'Fine! You can't physically walk into a church, sit down and attend mass for some unknown physical condition! Pardon me for thinking this a ridiculous facade concocted up to escape attending a Christian Mass! What are you, pagan?'
Andrew was sneering and glaring at him, brown eyes flashing in disgust. Theo chest tightened with an almost audible pang. He didn't want Drew to be angry at him. But he couldn't very well tell him either. But if he didn't tell him he would most likely lose the best friend he had.
'Well? Are you or aren't you?'
Oh. Theo winced at the harshness of Andrew's words. He really was mad, his Irish accent returning in full force. Theo sighed and rubbed his forehead.
'No, Drew, I'm not pagan. Well, I suppose you could call me that, but I do believe that God exists and all that, I just can't...'
Here he broke off, unsure of how far he could go. What he wanted to, had to, say was that he couldn't worship God. He couldn't set foot inside a holy building or on holy ground. That it wasn't his fault. That he really did believe (how couldn't he?) and he would if he could but he couldn't so he didn't, and there was no 'should' about it. The only should, was by rights, that he shouldn't exist, that he shouldn't be allowed to live, that he shouldn't be here, right now, talking to an innocent mortal who, despite being Irish, didn't believe a word of the old folk tales. Although he should.
- - -
Theo stopped talking and weighed Andrew with the most serious look ever to cross his face. Or so was Andrew's opinion. He appeared older, wiser, and wearier than Andrew had ever thought to see him. Andrew opened his mouth again, in fury, to speak but something in those eyes stopped him. There was a sadness there, harboured deep and just barely flickering across the surface. A sadness and a pity as well.
Another swell of rage burst against Andrew's chest at the pity. Pity. How dare he pity him the little pagan... Teeth clenched and face warm with anger, Andrew straightened his back and prepared to give Theodore Groves the tongue-lashing of his life.
But Theo spoke first, his voice soft and low.
'I wish I could tell you the reasons, but you're not ready to hear them, Drew. If I told you, we would both regret it deeply later. Forget about this Drew, just forget about it. Go to your Mass, I'll go to Fort Rupert with the marines. And think, when you come back. Think about those stories you must have heard as a wee child, just out of the cradle.'
Theo hesitated, than gave a slight, cautious nod before turning on his heel and walking slowly to the door. Andrew watched him go, stunned, mind whirling and lips struggling to form the arguments bubbling up. As Theo reached the doorway, he paused than turned around. Now the pity, oh so gentle, was vivid in his eyes and audible in his voice.
'There's more to this world than meets the eye, Andrew Gillette.'
- - -
All in all, despite the Christmas gala with the marines, Theo was of the opinion that it had been a horrible day. Andrew had avoided him all day, and Theo knew, deep down, that it would be like that for a very long while. But when one had to choose between death, injury, or losing a friend...
Well. He tried to tell himself it wasn't so bad, losing a friend, that there were more mates to be found. But it still hurt, an ache caught in his chest bone, and on dreary, drunken nights Theo would always think that he had been wrong, that he should have told him or gone to the church.
He always knew better in the morning.
Characters: Groves, Gillette
Rating: G, Gen
Word Count: 1114
A random ficlet that snuck out into the LJ post box while I tried to eat my lunch. No idea where it came from, but a little of where its going. Un-beta'd, obviously.
Friendship's Pain
The day they tried to get Theodore Groves to go into the church wasn't a good day. It hadn't started out as a good day, proceeded as a good day, or ended as a good day. So really, in Theo's way of thinking, that made it a rather bad day altogether.
Theo didn't have anything against churches themselves. He thought they were nice buildings- often well-kept and prone to be fancy if located in an important municipal center. He didn't have anything against clerics or vicars or priests or any religious persons in general, either. It was just that he couldn't go into a church.
When he tried to explain this to Andrew, who was a devout church-goer, Andrew didn't believe him.
'You mean you don't want to go into church.'
'No, Drew, I can't. Physically.'
‘Oh come now Ted, don't be a fool and go get dressed.'
He only ever called him Ted when he as trying to persuade him of something. This was fairly often and normally involving the inadvisability of some act or another. And normally Andrew's impeccable logic won out. Not this day however.
- - -
Andrew normally ignored Theo's dislike of attending church. When they were at sea he had to listen to Mass enough that no extreme worry for Theo's soul was warranted. Andrew Gillette might have been rather pugnacious and stubborn about many points, but he was open enough to understand that not everyone liked to attend to church. Theo was, after all, a grown man and his choices were his own.
Christmas Day Mass was something else though. To Andrew's sensibilities there was just something inherently wrong about not attending Christmas Mass. Thus, the reason why he was trying to convince Theo to come.
Theo, however, appeared to have other ideas and was proceeding to make a rather ridiculous argument along the lines of not being capable to go to Mass.
'Ted, you are perfectly capable of getting up, walking, and sitting down. I've never known you to have trouble with stairs, either. Thus, you can physically come to Mass.'
'No, I can't.'
'Theodore-'
'If it wasn't in a church, I could, but Mass on land is usually in a church.'
Andrew was quite irritated with his friend. The abnormal patience and straight-faced flatness of tone was getting to him. Not that getting on Andrew's nerves was a particularly difficult task- Theo managed it on a regular basis. But that was by being a fool and a joker, not by being serious.
- - -
Theo drummed his fingers against his arm and watched Andrew stew and fume. The man was about to blow his lid at any minute. Vaguely amused, Theo counted under his breath,
'One... two... three... four... fi-'
'Fine! You can't physically walk into a church, sit down and attend mass for some unknown physical condition! Pardon me for thinking this a ridiculous facade concocted up to escape attending a Christian Mass! What are you, pagan?'
Andrew was sneering and glaring at him, brown eyes flashing in disgust. Theo chest tightened with an almost audible pang. He didn't want Drew to be angry at him. But he couldn't very well tell him either. But if he didn't tell him he would most likely lose the best friend he had.
'Well? Are you or aren't you?'
Oh. Theo winced at the harshness of Andrew's words. He really was mad, his Irish accent returning in full force. Theo sighed and rubbed his forehead.
'No, Drew, I'm not pagan. Well, I suppose you could call me that, but I do believe that God exists and all that, I just can't...'
Here he broke off, unsure of how far he could go. What he wanted to, had to, say was that he couldn't worship God. He couldn't set foot inside a holy building or on holy ground. That it wasn't his fault. That he really did believe (how couldn't he?) and he would if he could but he couldn't so he didn't, and there was no 'should' about it. The only should, was by rights, that he shouldn't exist, that he shouldn't be allowed to live, that he shouldn't be here, right now, talking to an innocent mortal who, despite being Irish, didn't believe a word of the old folk tales. Although he should.
- - -
Theo stopped talking and weighed Andrew with the most serious look ever to cross his face. Or so was Andrew's opinion. He appeared older, wiser, and wearier than Andrew had ever thought to see him. Andrew opened his mouth again, in fury, to speak but something in those eyes stopped him. There was a sadness there, harboured deep and just barely flickering across the surface. A sadness and a pity as well.
Another swell of rage burst against Andrew's chest at the pity. Pity. How dare he pity him the little pagan... Teeth clenched and face warm with anger, Andrew straightened his back and prepared to give Theodore Groves the tongue-lashing of his life.
But Theo spoke first, his voice soft and low.
'I wish I could tell you the reasons, but you're not ready to hear them, Drew. If I told you, we would both regret it deeply later. Forget about this Drew, just forget about it. Go to your Mass, I'll go to Fort Rupert with the marines. And think, when you come back. Think about those stories you must have heard as a wee child, just out of the cradle.'
Theo hesitated, than gave a slight, cautious nod before turning on his heel and walking slowly to the door. Andrew watched him go, stunned, mind whirling and lips struggling to form the arguments bubbling up. As Theo reached the doorway, he paused than turned around. Now the pity, oh so gentle, was vivid in his eyes and audible in his voice.
'There's more to this world than meets the eye, Andrew Gillette.'
- - -
All in all, despite the Christmas gala with the marines, Theo was of the opinion that it had been a horrible day. Andrew had avoided him all day, and Theo knew, deep down, that it would be like that for a very long while. But when one had to choose between death, injury, or losing a friend...
Well. He tried to tell himself it wasn't so bad, losing a friend, that there were more mates to be found. But it still hurt, an ache caught in his chest bone, and on dreary, drunken nights Theo would always think that he had been wrong, that he should have told him or gone to the church.
He always knew better in the morning.