Friends in Low Places || Charles & Izzy
Well, theyâd finally managed it. Agent Caverly had gone above and beyond, and the personnel files were finally updated and organized. It was now his job to go through them and familiarize himself with the recent arrivals. He was about halfway through the stack when he froze, reading and re-reading the name at the top.
Setting the file down, he closed his eyes, struggling to breathe. The name alone brought back memories. And memories brought him back.
They couldnât have known. That was his mantra, in the month following the explosion. They couldnât have known what would happen. Surely they hadnât maimed him on purpose. Theyâd teased him about his accent, yes, about his lifestyle, but for it all, Charles had thought theyâd--well, bonded. Heâd never had many friendsâproper friends, in the working class sense of the word. You simply accustomed yourself to the company of those around youâchildren of your parentsâ friends, schoolmates, an affection born of convenience rather than choice. But with those men on the front, he felt theyâd overcome something. A rigid class division worn away by the comradery of service. Heâd actually thought theyâd liked him, as he liked them.
Thatâs why the thoughts pained him. The ones that came to him in the middle of the night, those first few days in the hospital. The treacherous thoughts, full of hateful whispers about why he was in that bed. About the faulty intelligence heâd been given, and had they done it on purpose? Sent him and his operatives there with the intention of seeing them fall? No. There was no reason, no rationality to it. And now Isaac was hereâŚthe very man whoâd given him the information.
Charles got to his feet, tugging on his coat and walking down to the barracks. He didnât know what drove him to it, whether enthusiasm at seeing his friend again or an urge to confront the man whoâd all but given him this cane. But he had to find himâŚhad to confirm his presence, somehow. And sure enough, there he was, cleaning his rifle as though heâd always been there, just out of sight.