[Everything was different after the war. Sledge found that his bed was too soft. The family home was too quiet, too clean. During the war, he'd have given anything for a soft mattress and a pillow but now when he laid in his bed at home it was too soft. He'd wake up from horrible nightmares, his throat raw and sheets drenched with sweat. More than a few nights he'd huddled on the hard floor in the corner of his room and that was the best sleep he'd had since he'd been home.
The panic attacks would come at the most inconvenient times. And he found himself missing the battlefield when you didn't have the time or luxury for it. Every moment asleep or awake was about survival. He supposed it was still true now but it was different. His every moment was about surviving surviving. Being dead would've been easier than living with all the things he'd done. Too many nights he'd close his eyes and see that old Japanese woman that he'd held until she died, that family blown to bits. He'd feel sick. Those nights that he couldn't escape that image was the worst.
Another thing about the war being over was he felt alone. Sure, his brother understood. So did Sid but they seemed to be moving on with their lives, adjusting better than Eugene was. Eugene missed the guys. He missed those brothers that were closer than blood because of everything they'd been through.
He missed Snafu. That dirty rotten bastard that left him on that train without a word. He knew Snafu knew exactly where he was but there'd been no letters and Eugene had never gotten an exact location for Snafu or he'd have written him a really nasty letter to express his anger.
To tell him he missed him.
Eugene thought about him a lot.]
Eugene, you've got a visitor. [The all too kind and patient voice of his father broke into his thoughts and Eugene furrowed his brow, pulling the pipe from his mouth.
He didn't bother answering his father, getting up from the desk he'd been at and moving to the foyer to see who it was this time. If it was that damned preacher again he was going to curse God. He didn't quite feel ready to forgive God for everything just yet.]
[He's in the study, you may as well go in, son, said Sledge's father, but he was kind and understanding enough to walk away afterward rather than waiting until Snafu had actually done so. Maybe he'd gotten some kind of feeling from the fact that Eugene didn't come to greet him, or maybe - nah, Snafu can't imagine that Eugene ever said anything about him, or brought up the way they parted. He can't imagine it affected Eugene much at all, what with so much to come back to here.
It certainly affected Snafu, who was once again Merriell and would've given anything to hear that stupid fucking nickname aloud again. He knew, as he stared down at Eugene's sleeping form on the train, that they didn't actually have anything in common beyond the war. Once everyone had settled back into their lives, they'd tire of Merriell Shelton when they weren't forced into his company, of his constant haranguing jokes and snide smirk - and somehow, that would've been so much worse than a clean break. Especially when it came to Eugene, who saw more of the real him than anyone else in that war, maybe in his whole damn life.
But Merriell didn't settle back into his life. Thing was, he didn't have anything in common with the boys back home anymore, either; he realized right quick, after one too many of his old friends came to blows with him over how much meaner he'd gotten, that he was going to be a tourist in any life he tried to live after the war. All he could do now was pick which location he preferred.
Well, and hope he wasn't thrown out once he'd chosen. It'd be within Eugene's rights, he knew that. It wasn't right for him to show up here after disappearing and then falling silent, he knew that too. But he finally had something to hope for, and he clung to it desperately as he shuffled into the study.]
That any way to treat a guest, Sledgehammer? [His tone was perfect, his words well-chosen, classic Snafu - his face was raw as an open wound.]
For a long moment, Eugene was sure he'd finally cracked. If he'd been in the war this would be his standing up at night and firing at Japs, trying to get himself killed. He'd finally lost every damn one of his marbles.
Because that voice couldn't be real.]
What the hell are you doing here, Snafu?
[His hands tightened into fist as he met the face that the voice belonged to. The anger that he'd been harboring since he woke up alone on that train surged and he lunged at him his fist aiming for his jaw.
Underneath the anger there was a surging joy and relief, a trickle of life coming back to him.]
[For Snafu, there couldn't possibly have been a better response to his reappearance. He was still Snafu, after all, to the person who mattered most, and maybe not having Snafu in his life had mattered to Eugene as well. A punch in the face sure suggested that he wasn't entirely happy about the situation.
It also took Snafu so completely by surprise that it knocked him right to the floor, flat on his ass. Stung, too. He clamped a hand around his lower jaw and worked it from side to side for a moment, just staring up at Eugene in disbelief, before everything clicked into place and he started to laugh.
Big, boisterous peals of laughter, too, probably the happiest sound this house had heard since before the war.]
Shit, Eugene, where the fuck you keep all that punch hidden away in your little body? You taken up boxing since last time I saw you?
[But even as he says it, Eugene is smiling. The punch had sated some
of the venom of his anger, seeing Snafu sprawled on his ass made him feel a
bit vindicated.]
Why are you here? [A brief pause before he asks what he really
wanted to know.] Why didn't you wake me up on the train?
[Good. He was smiling, which was good. But he was also asking the big questions right off the bat, which Snafu should've expected from Eugene, yet had no idea how to handle.]
Why, I just couldn't live another day without seein' your handsome face again. [They were past that, though. When it really mattered, they were past Snafu's stupid jokes, and his knowledge of that fact showed in how quickly his face fell as he climbed to his feet.]
I - Eugene - [He sighed heavily, shoulders rolling forward in the exact opposite of the stance he'd kept up most of the time Eugene had known him - he looked small and defeated, like he could never have played the arrogant king of the world.] - there weren't nothin' left for any of us to say to each other when we got back. We woulda gone from talkin' 'bout what we'd do back home to relivin' that shithole over and over again forever once we actually got there 'cause it's all we had in common.
[It almost sounded like a kindness when he put it that way. Like he'd done it to protect Eugene, not to protect himself.]
[Eugene rolled his eyes, scoffing a little at the joke. It wasn't that. He knew that was hardly the reason the other had shown up here in Mobile. He watched the other's face though, that moment when his expression fell and the weight of his question had hit Snafu.
As he stood, Eugene watched as his body seemed to do the same. The facade he always kept up slipping away and Eugene didn't have to search for the real Shelton. He was right there, plain as day.]
If you think that, why are you here then?
[He knew the answer, at least he thought he did. They were reliving that shithole over and over again but they were doing it alone.]
Waking up and you were gone... it was like you died.
[Snafu immediately drew Sledge in even closer, tugging him slightly sideways as they kissed to try and coax him right on top. His hands settled on Sledge's hips as he started to roll his own upward, slow and lazy for now even though his heart was beating nearly out of his chest at the idea of Gene finally fucking him.
It'd be interesting to see how much he would take control with the role that seemed most dominant. And no matter what the case, it'd be so fucking hot.]
Don't you worry 'bout hurtin' me. [Even though the intensity hadn't really started to pick up yet, the two of them still just rolling around and enjoying close contact without the edge of need, Snafu's eyes blazed as he murmured those words.] Ain't no way you could hurt me more'n I'd like.
[Sledge returned the kiss though his thoughts were running a mile a minute as he slid on top of Snafu at his urging. There was a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation at the idea of fucking Snafu. He wanted to, there was no doubt but there were a million thoughts of how he could mess up and fear of hurting or not being good enough clouding the excitement a bit.
He didn't dare put a voice to any of it, trying to stomp it down into the back of his mind where it wouldn't bother him so much, least not now.]
Merriell... [The words made his stomach twist with anxiety rather than providing him with any reassurance. What if he fucked him and Snafu didn't like the way he fucked? Sledge was pretty sure his pride would never recover. He shook his head and pressed his face into the other's neck, pressing soft kisses and bites there as his fingers slid over Snafu's chest, rolling his hips down against his.
His other hand slid between them, working on opening Snafu's pants first, fumbling a little though not nearly as much as the first time he undid the other's pants.]
[That was how Merriell Shelton opened the conversation when he responded to his boss's curt demand to meet him in his office - after Merriell had spent nearly the entire workday attempting to sext him over the employee network. He sounded perfectly genuine, too, a tinge of concern on his features and wound through his voice.
However, he was also leaned back against the side of the office's doorframe with his hands in his pockets (the blue version), head cocked upward at an arrogant angle despite being shorter than Mr. Sledge; it was a variation on a classic power pose, blending relaxed and dominant to throw someone off-balance, but he'd never studied such things because he was promoted into the office environment rapidly and with no education to back him. They just came naturally to him, which proved what Mr. Sledge had seen in him to justify all those rapid promotions.
[Honestly, what had he been thinking. Perhaps even with seeing the potential in Merriell Shelton he shouldn't have been promoting him. He quite honestly should be firing him right now after all those messages. Even his own were not guaranteed to never be monitored by their IT department.
He couldn't have people talking. And people had already been whispering. He knew that. But he hadn't given them any legitimate reasons thus far.
Shelton had aura about him that was, to say the least, intimidating but Sledge hadn't made it to where he was by being easily cowed. But still, Shelton made him nervous and he paced, loosening his tie.]
Your behavior is completely inappropriate. I understand you lack experience in this environment but surely you should know better than this.
[Merriell's response to that was about as disrespectful as it was confusing: he laughed, quiet and subdued but laughter all the same, but also lowered his gaze to the floor, which had the same conflicting effect as his concerned question with his cocky posture. Was he ashamed or amused? The two didn't seem like they could go together, but finding the seam was next to impossible.
Really, he wasn't either, at least not about his actions. He was mostly amused that Mr. Sledge was pacing his office like a caged animal, even though it was his space. He had home field advantage along with all the power he wielded and he was in knots. By the time his hand went for his tie, Merriell had no lingering scrap of doubt how this would end no matter what he did from here on forward.]
You ain't gonna train me or work me outta gettin' what I want, Mr. Sledge. Not when it wants the same thing. [He pushed off from the doorframe and moved further into the room, but didn't approach Mr. Sledge directly; he just wanted to see where the circle of uncomfortable energy about him would intensify, making his boss even more antsy.]
[There was something intensely unsettling about Merriell for him and he didn't have a damned clue what it was. Did he find him attractive? Yes, he did actually but he wasn't in the habit of giving into his attractions especially when they mixed with business as this so clearly did.
But he was uncomfortable and the way Merriell seemed to abnormally respond to everything unsettled him even further. Sledge was supposed to be in control here and yet it felt like he was holding none of the cards but the one he simply wouldn't use 'you're fired'.]
I could terminate your employment. Is this job important to you? [There was not nearly enough steel in his tone but the attempt was there. He stopped pacing though, the other further in his office and moved behind his desk, as if that would afford him any control as he sat in his desk chair, his eyes training on Merriell.]
Our messaging systems are carefully monitored and how you are behaving now are more than enough grounds for a dismissal.
[That was in no way a threat. Merriell still sounded lazily confident, almost bored that they had to go through this whole act. In reality, he felt exactly like he imagined a predator would in the last stages of hunting its prey, almost too alive and aware but still able to channel that excess energy into hyper focus.
Eyes half-shuttered, he watched Mr. Sledge put the desk between them, hide his lap under its surface, and thought: checkmate.]
Don't worry, you ain't done nothin' wrong, whoever's ridin' you from up top can't bend you over for this one. [Carefully chosen language? You'd best believe it. Still not breaking the stare Mr. Sledge had leveled on him, using it to his advantage instead, he circled the desk and walked behind him. Whether Mr. Sledge spun around to follow his process or Merriell had to grab the chair and do it himself, he'd wind up leaning forward with his arms on either side of his boss and his hands resting on the desk, nearly nose to nose with him. His voice dropped to a whisper.]
[He felt more in command sitting at his desk but quite honestly it didn't seem to have any affect and a part of him was well aware of it as the other prowled closer to him. The words made him swallow, wanting to protest how vulgar they were and insist that there was certainly none of that going on at all.
But that would be dignifying it with a response.
Merriell turned his chair until they were facing one another and the other was far too into his personal space. He swallowed hard, refusing to look away from him even as their faces were far too close.]
[Oh, he did like Mr. Sledge. So proud, so respectable, but with cravings he just had to give in to with one hand even as he rejected them with the other. He was like a woman on a diet who'd stand in front of a bakery every day, staring in at the pastries but never allowing herself one. As if the torture made him even purer in his abstinence.
He'd drag Merriell all the way up here to have him closer but not come near him: admirable, it its own way, but it couldn't be allowed to stand. Not while Merriell had the same craving, because he indulged his every whim and that was going to include the man seated in front of him.]
With all due respect, sir - [He took hold of Mr. Sledge's tie in one hand and pulled it free from his blazer, smoothing his thumb against the grain of the silky fabric, his hold very slack but still managing to make it plain that he now had physical leverage against the man.] - I'm gettin' to the point. One of us had to.
[It was beyond Sledge what sort of person he was dealing with. A devil, most likely, he was coming to think. Nothing short of Satan himself could be so tempting and there was something so sensual about the way he took his tie.
Suddenly, Sledge knew that that tie was merely a physical representation of something quite bigger. Merriell held the cards. Somewhere he'd sold his soul to the devil and now he'd come to collect. Was the promotions it? Is that how he'd signed it away?]
This is unacceptable. [He tried to keep his voice calm, but despite his words he wasn't trying to regain physical control of the situation. And god had the situation gotten out of control and much too sexual for anything appropriate for the office at all.]
[Eugene had been a bit adrift ever since he came back from the war, but he couldn't afford to be completely adrift - all he had to his name was what he earned or could pay for himself, which serving his country hadn't changed. It had given him a bit more prestige, though, enough that he was able to start doing construction contracting rather than working on sites as he had before the war. He even had a nice truck out front of his house, not brand new but in good shape, with his name painted on the side. Relocating to Baton Rouge had been a wise choice professionally.
Personally? He wasn't sure if anything would've helped out on that front. He'd always been a quiet, retiring sort, and that was no different now, so most people who knew him didn't see very much difference; there was no visible shell shock, no violence, no hysteria, nothing to suggest any kind of permanent damage in the decades before anyone understood post-traumatic stress disorder. But he was actually even quieter, even more distant, buried so deep in his own thoughts that he often didn't notice he hadn't done anything but work, sleep, and eat for weeks at a time without any days off. Nothing else seemed important.
There were also times when sleep was about all he did, sometimes for a few days in a row, but he didn't allow them often. He had no concept of working too hard, but he did know self-indulgence, and it still wasn't a weakness he wanted to develop.
The one person who probably could've drawn him out of his rut (which he couldn't quite recognize as one) hadn't returned from the war. He hadn't died, either, or at least had never made a casualty list or had a telegram delivered to his family, but Merriell Shelton hadn't been seen in Baton Rouge since things wrapped up in the South Pacific. No one reported having any contact with him. Eugene felt the lack of him like a persistent ache, one he soothed by keeping busy, as he did all the rest.
It worked until the day a slim young man with auburn hair, an accent that was too sharp-edged to be local, and a desperately sad look in his dark eyes appeared on Eugene's front step. Somehow he knew this was about Merriell, and even though he had no way of knowing if it was good news or bad news or any news at all, that achy spot tore in two and became an open wound.]
Mornin'. [He was still unfailingly polite even as his heart rate seemed to double, a ghost of a smile on his lips.] What can I do for ya?
[Sledge wasn't sure what he'd been thinking when he'd come down to Louisiana. Did he actually think he'd be able to find Merriell? Clearly, he didn't want to be found and the ache and hole in his soul left by the way Shelton had left him seemed to cave in more with each failure in the search.
This was the last clue he had. There wasn't any way he'd know for sure if it was even the right person until he got there. He was exhausted in every way possible when he knocked on that door and at first when he came face to face with Eugene Roe he hesitated.
What was he supposed to say? How could he explain why he was looking so hard for Merriell when the war was long over and most people would have written off what he'd done.]
Eugene Sledge. [He introduced himself without much fanfare, studying the man briefly.] Do you know Merriell Shelton? [He hated that there was a pained desperate twinge in his voice.]
[The introduction left Roe silent for a few slow, owlish blinks of his eyes, brow furrowing so deeply that it was plainly one of his more common expressions. He was right, though: this was someone looking for Merriell, and just the sound of that name caused him to lose the struggle with all the sadness that wanted to overcome his features.]
Eugene Roe, but I think you already heard of me. [He stepped back, clearing the doorway for this other Eugene.] You better come in. Can I get you anything?
[The house was small, seeing as though he lived there alone, and cozy in a threadbare sort of way; not entirely ragged, and kept spotless and neat, but with the faded, worn quality of age in everything he owned.]
[As he stepped inside he reached out his hand to offer it in a shake even if it ended up half hearted if it was accepted. He should be happy that this man apparently knew who he was asking for but a part of him didn't feel like it was anything to start to feel good about. It was likely as not that he hadn't heard tale of that damned man either.]
He talked about you. [Sledge shook his head when the other offered to get him anything. He was just hoping against all hope that he knew something.] No thank you, I won't take much of your time either.
[Roe's mouth almost made it to a smile when Sledge offered his hand, and he gave it a good, brisk shake, but hearing that Merriell had talked about him while away at war made his features twist a little again. He swore he hadn't always been this raw, once too tightly controlled for anyone even to consider that he might feel emotional pain. Had the war done this?
After closing the door behind them, he moved to stand beside Sledge and found that he couldn't quite look the other man in the eye. Someone who served with him could probably claim the same closeness Roe himself did, even after a much shorter period of time; he knew full well how deep those fire-forged bonds ran.]
Far as anyone knows, he never came back. No one here's heard from him or seen him. [Then he swallowed hard and finally lifted his gaze to meet Sledge's, because there was something he needed to know.] You - saw him. After the war. You know he came through?
[There was pain that was clear as day on Roe's face for a moment that Sledge didn't know how exactly to interpret. He knew that it was possible he didn't want to know the answer either. He certainly had no intentions of asking. There was no doubt about that.]
He... [Sledge was shocked, staring at Roe as he processed what he'd just said. There was not going to be any answers for him here, that was now confirmed. He tried to school his features to hide the disappointment and pain that wasn't so much grief but something harsher.]
We were on the train home. When I woke up past his stop he was gone. That fucker didn't even bother coming home?
[Oh the train home. No question that Merriell survived, then.
Roe had to turn his head away for a moment, letting out a quick, sharp breath through his nostrils. Even without anything other than Merriell's absence to suggest he'd died, there seemed to have been a fear buried so deep within Roe that he didn't even know it himself until he nearly collapsed with relief at the good news.]
No. He ain't been home. Ain't the letter-writing type either, but... I guess you'd know that. [He didn't sound bitter when he said that, at least, apparently resigned to whatever closeness Sledge shared with Merriell no matter what his own status had been before the war. He did start to move further into the house, though, giving Sledge a look that was close to beseeching.]
I got all the time in the world for this, if you'll stay a bit longer.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-08-18 09:18 pm (UTC)I HOPE THIS IS OKAY IDK IF ITS WHAT YOU WERE THINKING
Date: 2016-08-18 11:57 pm (UTC)The panic attacks would come at the most inconvenient times. And he found himself missing the battlefield when you didn't have the time or luxury for it. Every moment asleep or awake was about survival. He supposed it was still true now but it was different. His every moment was about surviving surviving. Being dead would've been easier than living with all the things he'd done. Too many nights he'd close his eyes and see that old Japanese woman that he'd held until she died, that family blown to bits. He'd feel sick. Those nights that he couldn't escape that image was the worst.
Another thing about the war being over was he felt alone. Sure, his brother understood. So did Sid but they seemed to be moving on with their lives, adjusting better than Eugene was. Eugene missed the guys. He missed those brothers that were closer than blood because of everything they'd been through.
He missed Snafu. That dirty rotten bastard that left him on that train without a word. He knew Snafu knew exactly where he was but there'd been no letters and Eugene had never gotten an exact location for Snafu or he'd have written him a really nasty letter to express his anger.
To tell him he missed him.
Eugene thought about him a lot.]
Eugene, you've got a visitor. [The all too kind and patient voice of his father broke into his thoughts and Eugene furrowed his brow, pulling the pipe from his mouth.
He didn't bother answering his father, getting up from the desk he'd been at and moving to the foyer to see who it was this time. If it was that damned preacher again he was going to curse God. He didn't quite feel ready to forgive God for everything just yet.]
wow that made me really emotional in the WELL DONE way
Date: 2016-08-19 12:14 am (UTC)It certainly affected Snafu, who was once again Merriell and would've given anything to hear that stupid fucking nickname aloud again. He knew, as he stared down at Eugene's sleeping form on the train, that they didn't actually have anything in common beyond the war. Once everyone had settled back into their lives, they'd tire of Merriell Shelton when they weren't forced into his company, of his constant haranguing jokes and snide smirk - and somehow, that would've been so much worse than a clean break. Especially when it came to Eugene, who saw more of the real him than anyone else in that war, maybe in his whole damn life.
But Merriell didn't settle back into his life. Thing was, he didn't have anything in common with the boys back home anymore, either; he realized right quick, after one too many of his old friends came to blows with him over how much meaner he'd gotten, that he was going to be a tourist in any life he tried to live after the war. All he could do now was pick which location he preferred.
Well, and hope he wasn't thrown out once he'd chosen. It'd be within Eugene's rights, he knew that. It wasn't right for him to show up here after disappearing and then falling silent, he knew that too. But he finally had something to hope for, and he clung to it desperately as he shuffled into the study.]
That any way to treat a guest, Sledgehammer? [His tone was perfect, his words well-chosen, classic Snafu - his face was raw as an open wound.]
AHhhhhhhhh what have we done
Date: 2016-08-19 12:32 am (UTC)For a long moment, Eugene was sure he'd finally cracked. If he'd been in the war this would be his standing up at night and firing at Japs, trying to get himself killed. He'd finally lost every damn one of his marbles.
Because that voice couldn't be real.]
What the hell are you doing here, Snafu?
[His hands tightened into fist as he met the face that the voice belonged to. The anger that he'd been harboring since he woke up alone on that train surged and he lunged at him his fist aiming for his jaw.
Underneath the anger there was a surging joy and relief, a trickle of life coming back to him.]
no subject
Date: 2016-08-19 12:40 am (UTC)It also took Snafu so completely by surprise that it knocked him right to the floor, flat on his ass. Stung, too. He clamped a hand around his lower jaw and worked it from side to side for a moment, just staring up at Eugene in disbelief, before everything clicked into place and he started to laugh.
Big, boisterous peals of laughter, too, probably the happiest sound this house had heard since before the war.]
Shit, Eugene, where the fuck you keep all that punch hidden away in your little body? You taken up boxing since last time I saw you?
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Date: 2016-08-19 12:50 am (UTC)Fuck off.
[But even as he says it, Eugene is smiling. The punch had sated some of the venom of his anger, seeing Snafu sprawled on his ass made him feel a bit vindicated.]
Why are you here? [A brief pause before he asks what he really wanted to know.] Why didn't you wake me up on the train?
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Date: 2016-08-19 01:12 am (UTC)Why, I just couldn't live another day without seein' your handsome face again. [They were past that, though. When it really mattered, they were past Snafu's stupid jokes, and his knowledge of that fact showed in how quickly his face fell as he climbed to his feet.]
I - Eugene - [He sighed heavily, shoulders rolling forward in the exact opposite of the stance he'd kept up most of the time Eugene had known him - he looked small and defeated, like he could never have played the arrogant king of the world.] - there weren't nothin' left for any of us to say to each other when we got back. We woulda gone from talkin' 'bout what we'd do back home to relivin' that shithole over and over again forever once we actually got there 'cause it's all we had in common.
[It almost sounded like a kindness when he put it that way. Like he'd done it to protect Eugene, not to protect himself.]
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Date: 2016-08-19 01:27 am (UTC)As he stood, Eugene watched as his body seemed to do the same. The facade he always kept up slipping away and Eugene didn't have to search for the real Shelton. He was right there, plain as day.]
If you think that, why are you here then?
[He knew the answer, at least he thought he did. They were reliving that shithole over and over again but they were doing it alone.]
Waking up and you were gone... it was like you died.
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Date: 2016-08-31 08:39 pm (UTC)It'd be interesting to see how much he would take control with the role that seemed most dominant. And no matter what the case, it'd be so fucking hot.]
Don't you worry 'bout hurtin' me. [Even though the intensity hadn't really started to pick up yet, the two of them still just rolling around and enjoying close contact without the edge of need, Snafu's eyes blazed as he murmured those words.] Ain't no way you could hurt me more'n I'd like.
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Date: 2016-08-31 11:00 pm (UTC)He didn't dare put a voice to any of it, trying to stomp it down into the back of his mind where it wouldn't bother him so much, least not now.]
Merriell... [The words made his stomach twist with anxiety rather than providing him with any reassurance. What if he fucked him and Snafu didn't like the way he fucked? Sledge was pretty sure his pride would never recover. He shook his head and pressed his face into the other's neck, pressing soft kisses and bites there as his fingers slid over Snafu's chest, rolling his hips down against his.
His other hand slid between them, working on opening Snafu's pants first, fumbling a little though not nearly as much as the first time he undid the other's pants.]
workplace au what what
Date: 2016-09-14 08:20 am (UTC)[That was how Merriell Shelton opened the conversation when he responded to his boss's curt demand to meet him in his office - after Merriell had spent nearly the entire workday attempting to sext him over the employee network. He sounded perfectly genuine, too, a tinge of concern on his features and wound through his voice.
However, he was also leaned back against the side of the office's doorframe with his hands in his pockets (the blue version), head cocked upward at an arrogant angle despite being shorter than Mr. Sledge; it was a variation on a classic power pose, blending relaxed and dominant to throw someone off-balance, but he'd never studied such things because he was promoted into the office environment rapidly and with no education to back him. They just came naturally to him, which proved what Mr. Sledge had seen in him to justify all those rapid promotions.
Other than the obvious.]
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Date: 2016-09-14 08:29 am (UTC)He couldn't have people talking. And people had already been whispering. He knew that. But he hadn't given them any legitimate reasons thus far.
Shelton had aura about him that was, to say the least, intimidating but Sledge hadn't made it to where he was by being easily cowed. But still, Shelton made him nervous and he paced, loosening his tie.]
Your behavior is completely inappropriate. I understand you lack experience in this environment but surely you should know better than this.
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Date: 2016-09-14 08:46 am (UTC)Really, he wasn't either, at least not about his actions. He was mostly amused that Mr. Sledge was pacing his office like a caged animal, even though it was his space. He had home field advantage along with all the power he wielded and he was in knots. By the time his hand went for his tie, Merriell had no lingering scrap of doubt how this would end no matter what he did from here on forward.]
You ain't gonna train me or work me outta gettin' what I want, Mr. Sledge. Not when it wants the same thing. [He pushed off from the doorframe and moved further into the room, but didn't approach Mr. Sledge directly; he just wanted to see where the circle of uncomfortable energy about him would intensify, making his boss even more antsy.]
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Date: 2016-09-14 08:52 am (UTC)But he was uncomfortable and the way Merriell seemed to abnormally respond to everything unsettled him even further. Sledge was supposed to be in control here and yet it felt like he was holding none of the cards but the one he simply wouldn't use 'you're fired'.]
I could terminate your employment. Is this job important to you? [There was not nearly enough steel in his tone but the attempt was there. He stopped pacing though, the other further in his office and moved behind his desk, as if that would afford him any control as he sat in his desk chair, his eyes training on Merriell.]
Our messaging systems are carefully monitored and how you are behaving now are more than enough grounds for a dismissal.
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Date: 2016-09-14 09:16 am (UTC)[That was in no way a threat. Merriell still sounded lazily confident, almost bored that they had to go through this whole act. In reality, he felt exactly like he imagined a predator would in the last stages of hunting its prey, almost too alive and aware but still able to channel that excess energy into hyper focus.
Eyes half-shuttered, he watched Mr. Sledge put the desk between them, hide his lap under its surface, and thought: checkmate.]
Don't worry, you ain't done nothin' wrong, whoever's ridin' you from up top can't bend you over for this one. [Carefully chosen language? You'd best believe it. Still not breaking the stare Mr. Sledge had leveled on him, using it to his advantage instead, he circled the desk and walked behind him. Whether Mr. Sledge spun around to follow his process or Merriell had to grab the chair and do it himself, he'd wind up leaning forward with his arms on either side of his boss and his hands resting on the desk, nearly nose to nose with him. His voice dropped to a whisper.]
I won't tell if you won't.
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Date: 2016-09-14 09:41 am (UTC)But that would be dignifying it with a response.
Merriell turned his chair until they were facing one another and the other was far too into his personal space. He swallowed hard, refusing to look away from him even as their faces were far too close.]
I think, you're missing the point here.
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Date: 2016-09-14 09:56 am (UTC)He'd drag Merriell all the way up here to have him closer but not come near him: admirable, it its own way, but it couldn't be allowed to stand. Not while Merriell had the same craving, because he indulged his every whim and that was going to include the man seated in front of him.]
With all due respect, sir - [He took hold of Mr. Sledge's tie in one hand and pulled it free from his blazer, smoothing his thumb against the grain of the silky fabric, his hold very slack but still managing to make it plain that he now had physical leverage against the man.] - I'm gettin' to the point. One of us had to.
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Date: 2016-09-14 10:16 am (UTC)Suddenly, Sledge knew that that tie was merely a physical representation of something quite bigger. Merriell held the cards. Somewhere he'd sold his soul to the devil and now he'd come to collect. Was the promotions it? Is that how he'd signed it away?]
This is unacceptable. [He tried to keep his voice calm, but despite his words he wasn't trying to regain physical control of the situation. And god had the situation gotten out of control and much too sexual for anything appropriate for the office at all.]
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From:GOOD THING I FELL ASLEEP??
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From:my ghost, where'd you go?
Date: 2016-09-30 04:53 am (UTC)Personally? He wasn't sure if anything would've helped out on that front. He'd always been a quiet, retiring sort, and that was no different now, so most people who knew him didn't see very much difference; there was no visible shell shock, no violence, no hysteria, nothing to suggest any kind of permanent damage in the decades before anyone understood post-traumatic stress disorder. But he was actually even quieter, even more distant, buried so deep in his own thoughts that he often didn't notice he hadn't done anything but work, sleep, and eat for weeks at a time without any days off. Nothing else seemed important.
There were also times when sleep was about all he did, sometimes for a few days in a row, but he didn't allow them often. He had no concept of working too hard, but he did know self-indulgence, and it still wasn't a weakness he wanted to develop.
The one person who probably could've drawn him out of his rut (which he couldn't quite recognize as one) hadn't returned from the war. He hadn't died, either, or at least had never made a casualty list or had a telegram delivered to his family, but Merriell Shelton hadn't been seen in Baton Rouge since things wrapped up in the South Pacific. No one reported having any contact with him. Eugene felt the lack of him like a persistent ache, one he soothed by keeping busy, as he did all the rest.
It worked until the day a slim young man with auburn hair, an accent that was too sharp-edged to be local, and a desperately sad look in his dark eyes appeared on Eugene's front step. Somehow he knew this was about Merriell, and even though he had no way of knowing if it was good news or bad news or any news at all, that achy spot tore in two and became an open wound.]
Mornin'. [He was still unfailingly polite even as his heart rate seemed to double, a ghost of a smile on his lips.] What can I do for ya?
whoa this name stuff could get confusing
Date: 2016-09-30 06:48 am (UTC)This was the last clue he had. There wasn't any way he'd know for sure if it was even the right person until he got there. He was exhausted in every way possible when he knocked on that door and at first when he came face to face with Eugene Roe he hesitated.
What was he supposed to say? How could he explain why he was looking so hard for Merriell when the war was long over and most people would have written off what he'd done.]
Eugene Sledge. [He introduced himself without much fanfare, studying the man briefly.] Do you know Merriell Shelton? [He hated that there was a pained desperate twinge in his voice.]
i'll switch it up
Date: 2016-09-30 06:57 am (UTC)Eugene Roe, but I think you already heard of me. [He stepped back, clearing the doorway for this other Eugene.] You better come in. Can I get you anything?
[The house was small, seeing as though he lived there alone, and cozy in a threadbare sort of way; not entirely ragged, and kept spotless and neat, but with the faded, worn quality of age in everything he owned.]
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Date: 2016-09-30 07:26 am (UTC)He talked about you. [Sledge shook his head when the other offered to get him anything. He was just hoping against all hope that he knew something.] No thank you, I won't take much of your time either.
Is he around here anymore... since the war?
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Date: 2016-09-30 07:34 am (UTC)After closing the door behind them, he moved to stand beside Sledge and found that he couldn't quite look the other man in the eye. Someone who served with him could probably claim the same closeness Roe himself did, even after a much shorter period of time; he knew full well how deep those fire-forged bonds ran.]
Far as anyone knows, he never came back. No one here's heard from him or seen him. [Then he swallowed hard and finally lifted his gaze to meet Sledge's, because there was something he needed to know.] You - saw him. After the war. You know he came through?
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Date: 2016-09-30 07:41 am (UTC)He... [Sledge was shocked, staring at Roe as he processed what he'd just said. There was not going to be any answers for him here, that was now confirmed. He tried to school his features to hide the disappointment and pain that wasn't so much grief but something harsher.]
We were on the train home. When I woke up past his stop he was gone. That fucker didn't even bother coming home?
[Was he okay?]
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Date: 2016-09-30 07:52 am (UTC)Roe had to turn his head away for a moment, letting out a quick, sharp breath through his nostrils. Even without anything other than Merriell's absence to suggest he'd died, there seemed to have been a fear buried so deep within Roe that he didn't even know it himself until he nearly collapsed with relief at the good news.]
No. He ain't been home. Ain't the letter-writing type either, but... I guess you'd know that. [He didn't sound bitter when he said that, at least, apparently resigned to whatever closeness Sledge shared with Merriell no matter what his own status had been before the war. He did start to move further into the house, though, giving Sledge a look that was close to beseeching.]
I got all the time in the world for this, if you'll stay a bit longer.
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