Author's Notes:
This chapter was unplanned. It is in response to an email review I received from Helen wondering what the heck was going on with Brian during the last chapter. So Helen – your wish is my command. Thanks for reviewing! I do apologize for this chapters incredibly short length. I’ll try and beef up the next couple for y’all. Thanks so much to my beta KJ who had to provide the most help so far on this chapter because it just wasn’t there for me. Whatever is in italics are excerpts from the last chapter to help refresh your memories.
To Midnight-whispers readers - when this was originally written and posted at bjfic it was quite a long time between the last chapter and this one being updated - so please forgive the redundancy.
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January 1, 1863
Brian's POV
When I wake in the morning I'm incredibly uncomfortable without Justin here to help keep my bed warm. I roll over slightly and hear the crinkling noise of Justin's letters; last night I needed to feel close to him and reading the letters he had sent me before he got hurt seemed the best way to achieve that feeling.
I've been worrying and wondering if Justin has received my apology letter yet. It pains me knowing that his last memory of me is still the reprehensible way I acted the night he left. I hope the letter finds him soon, and finds him well.
Dear Brian,
I received your letter yesterday as the men around the campfire were drunkenly enjoying the New Year; I was sitting glumly missing you. The letter now resides next to my heart where it can keep the organ warm. I wish I could say more now, but I promise to tell you the extent of my feelings about your words when I return.
January 12, 1963
I received Justin's letter today and it's amazing how one small piece of paper can lift a great weight from my shoulders.
While his letter lessens my distress over the night he left, it does nothing to ease the distress about the fact that he did leave. This war is dragging on much longer than anyone would have ever thought, men die more from disease than from battle, but battle alone is scary enough. The fact that Justin would not have sex with women while at war probably works to his advantage, it keeps him safe from some of the diseases that are most prevalent at this time.
I immediately start putting together a little bundle to send to him tomorrow. I wrap up a small bar of soap, a new change of clothes, and a little note from me. I can't help but send him written forms of my affection from time to time, but I do try and keep them to a minimum.
March 3rd, 1863
I'm a little startled while eating dinner from a knock on my door. Visitors were fairly regular while Justin stayed here, the doctor and his mother being the most frequent guests, but since he's been gone no one has come by unexpectedly.
I'm shocked to find Jennifer Taylor on my doorstep trembling with tears rolling freely down her face. My heart plummets and shatters in that instant. I just know it. She's here to tell me the worst. How do I keep myself from reacting too strongly? I never even thought about how to hide my feelings if something horrible were to happen to him. Oh god, I don't think that I can.
In between sobs she manages to hug me tight to her and says weakly, "He's dead." Oh god I know I can't keep my feeling inside.
He's dead. How can he be dead? Everything was so perfect just a short time ago. Dead. I don't think it has sunk in yet. Will it ever sink into my head that my lover will never come back to me? I can feel my breathing becoming shallow as my body tries to process what my brain cannot. Dead. Right now I think I want to join him. Oh god, join him, I'll never be joined with him again in any sense of that word. I feel dizzy. Can you stop breathing, pass out, and throw up all at the same time? How do I explain this reaction to his mother? She would never understand why a friend would react so strongly. At the moment I don't care what she thinks anymore. He's dead. Nothing else matters. Nothing else ever will again.
I step back from her and she looks slightly startled but her eyes grow incredibly wide as I gasp, and fall to the ground, wracking sobs taking over my body.
The realization only takes her a minute, but it's the longest minute of my life.
"No. Brian, look at me. No. Oh I'm so sorry. Not Justin! To my knowledge Justin is fine."
What?
"What? What do you mean he is fine?!? Well then who is dead!?!" I think I just screamed at a crying woman but I don't care.
"Craig." Oh thank god. Oh wait, that's probably not good for her, and not all that good for Justin either. Justin. Justin's alive. He'll be hurting with this knowledge probably, but he'll still be alive.
I stand back up and invite her into my home, after all now that I know it isn't Justin I can at least be a good neighbor.
She stays for about an hour. Its obvious to me that while her husband was in jail her love for him faded some. She seems more concerned about what she will do now without a husband, and how Justin will handle this news. We come to the conclusion that I should probably write to him to tell him his father died because the relationship between Jennifer and Justin is pretty strained right now.
Brian,
I have some disturbing news. The letter you wrote to me just after I left home was discovered by a man here at camp. He has responded in a way that you and I had not considered in our discussions about this. He wants me to let him use my body as a replacement for his wife. I've been able to avoid him so far, having to share my bedroll with another man helps. However, Mark is an officer and given some time he can probably arrange for me to become available to him.
I'm going to think of something. I promise you Brian he will not touch me.
Love,
Justin
April 12th, 1863
Mark? Who the fuck is this mark? When I first read Justin's letter the first thing that jumped out at me was another man's name. Now though I'm terrified. Justin is right, whenever we talked about our, whatever it is, we've always talked about the need for secrecy but never for this reason.
I know I find Justin irresistible so I should have guessed that someone else might also. But someone with a wife? I don't understand why this Mark would not just use one of the whores that are in so many of the towns. Why use Justin?
I think being so far away; not knowing if this Mark has been able to get what he wanted or not, is going to drive me insane. Another man could be inside of him right now and while I don't want to think about it, it's all I can think about.
I put together another care package for Justin with thoughts of this Mark running through my mind, and I can't help but strongly consider putting a small knife amongst the items. If I can't protect him I want him to be able to protect himself.
Our Mark problem has been solved. I don't have much time to write now. Just know that I have been transferred to another army in the confederate forces. I will be part of General Lee's Army of Northern Virginia.
April 21st, 1863
I have mixed feelings over Justin's reassignment. I'm overjoyed that he will be able to get away from Mark but I worry that he will be assigned to a regiment that is in harm's way more often. He has been quite lucky so far, from the beginning he was able to get signed up with a regiment that spent quite a bit of time on training. When all other comforts are gone, I take comfort in the knowledge that they didn't send him into battle unprepared. I have heard stories of some of the newer recruits being sent into battle almost immediately. Justin was not born for war, he was trained for it, and for that I am grateful.
July 1st, 1863
4am
I can't believe that he is once again close by. The parts of Virginia and Pennsylvania that he has mentioned are only a couple of days carriage ride.
Tonight I woke from a fretful dream, I think having him so close makes these dreams that have occasionally plagued me worse. Ever since that moment of grief and fear a few months ago when I thought he was dead, I've had the worst dreams. Dreams filled with hot lead flying, blood pouring, and Justin's life draining away. Usually the dreams feel so surreal I can convince myself that it's just my overactive imagination. For some reason this dream however, feels all too real.