HQ in Avelãs

After the 'meeting' with Widmayer, George headed to the HQ. In the kitchen there was water to be found, and light, and relative privacy. He sat down on the bench and stripped off his neckerchief, now dirtied with blood, coat and shirt. Picking up a cloth he wetted it and started carefully wiping the dried blood off his neck.

Having said good night to the General and with all the papers ordered, Brandon descended the stairs to the ground floor, not quite ready to go to sleep yet. It was just after midnight and he did not feel truly tired, despite the duties of the day.

He headed for the front door but then turned and made his way to the kitchen, having decided that the backyard would be the better place to take a nightly stroll.
He stopped in the dark corridor as he saw light from under the door. Wondering who might be still awake he approached the kitchendoor cautiously and opened it. He stepped in just a few paces and halted when he saw Hunter, frowning when he realised it must be blood that the man seemed to be washing off himself.

He coughed softly to make his entrance known "Good evening, Captain".

Hunter looked up without pausing in his task.
'Good evening, Colonel. Can't sleep?' He dropped the cloth onto the bench and picked up another, a long and narrow one, which he was going to use as a bandage.

"No." He followed Hunter's movements with his gaze. "But it seems I'm not the only one" he stated the obvious. He turned to the table and helped himself to some water from a jug.

George began winding the strip of cloth around his neck.
'Oh, I can. I just don't. Besides, I have things that need doing. As you can see.' George tied the bandage at the throat and began pulling his shirt back on.

He looks back in Hunter's direction. "Yes, I can see that you have been busy" for once, he added in his mind. He had to concentrate to not let his anger from before get the better of him again. Though despite that the next question was out even before he could stop himself. "May I inquire what happened, Captain? All that blood..." he gestured towards the soiled cloth in the sink.

'I guess it's no use saying I got this cut while shaving, is there?.' George got up to tuck his shirt in, and without bothering with his neckerchief, shrugged his jacket on, leaving it unbuttoned. 'Just a little misunderstanding, accident even. Nothing for you to worry about, sir.'

"I see..." he said half to himself, the frustration letting his voice appear a bit edgy.
He had already turned half away again, finally heading to the back door, when he said softly under his breath "You still seem to have an appeal to misunderstandings."

George tensed at the quiet words, but he turned to face Brandon. With a crooked smile, he said:
'That was no misunderstanding, and well you know it, Christopher.' Turning away again, he picked up the dirtied cloth, fingers tightening around it.

With his back still to Hunter, his whole posture tense now, he took in an audible breath and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again he turned around, slowly.
His voice was surprisingly low but carried with a determined force. "I damn well hope it was no misunderstanding, George." He looked downright at him now. "You fought a bloody duel... with my brother!"

Hunter nearly winced at the words, but did turn back to the other man. Trying to keep his own anger in check, he shrugged non-chalantly.
'And how is dear Robert now? Same? I doubt that even eight years that passed could change him. I should have done more than just cut his arm that day.'

Brandon could not move for a moment. Eight years and all these emotions still raged within him with such destructive force.

"I wish I would never have needed to set eyes on you again". He turned and walked out of the door and into the back yard, inhaling the cool night air desperately.

At first he just stood still, stunned. God, eight years! Eight damn years and it still hurt like the day it all happened. Seeing Brandon here came as a shock, but he acted like they didn't know each other and the other man seemed happy enough to follow his example. When Brandon invited him for that dinner, he'd thought that maybe he was going to acknowledge their past acquaintance, but no, it seemed like both of them were too scared to admit it, and yet threw themselves into situations that eventually led to this.

Damn it, he was not going to go through this again! George followed Brandon outside.
'It seems you haven't changed either! Walking away like you always did! Jesus, Christopher, I can't just make it all go away! There are no more apples left to steal!'

"And neither have you." It was more a statement than an accusation. "Still so damn proud."

He did not want to turn around, having to face him again. Nothing had changed over the years, there was still so much anger, hate and pride... and the hurt of a loss that was more powerful than anything he had to endure in his life before. He had worked so hard to burry it deep, but it all crushed down on him now, hitting with a vengeance he did not think possible.

"And yes, no more apples..." His voice was thin, almost a whisper, carrying both sadness and regret. Still he could not bring himself to turn around.

George walked up and stood side by side with Brandon, both of them staring into the night. He heaved a sigh.
'Yes I am, Christopher, and still stubborn too.' Pausing he added in quieter voice. 'But maybe it's time to move on. Apples are good, but they aren't the only fruit in the world.'
Try as he might George knew he couldn't be angry with Brandon for long. Upset, dissapointed, yes, but not angry.

He snorted. "And I'm still a coward" he completed, thus acknowledging that they indeed were the same as eight years before and would probably never change.

"Move on, eh?" He looked sideways at Hunter. "Shouldn't we have done that eight years ago, George?"
He did not know what to think nor say. He knew that their friendship had been lost back then, but having Hunter here again, beside him... He sighed. He did not see a way though.

Geroge ran a hand through his hair.
'Christopher, eight years ago, we were all those things, but we were also young. Now at least we might a little wiser.' He turned his head to meet Brandon's gaze. 'It won't be easy, but our new friendship might just be stronger through this. I... I am glad I got to see you again, especially here and now.'

"Young and foolish" He turned more towards Hunter. "Believing the world could not harm us. But look at us, George. Do we know any better now?" He looked at him with a mix of hope and doubt. A hope that was kindled by George talking of a new friendship and a doubt that was rooted deeply within him, a constant companion.

After a moment of silence he turned his gaze away, staring into the distance of the night again. "It's good seeing you again, too."

'I think we do, I think we do. The world has harmed us both.' George leaned to the side and bumped Brandon's shoulder with his lightly. 'I think it's time we go out and harm it instead.' He said with a grin. 'I'm willing to give it a try if you are. Actually, no. As I remember I am also selfish and inconsiderate, so I'm going to keep trying even if you are not.'

Brandon was startled by the sudden contact as it shook him from his thoughts. Despite his doubts and fears he could not help but chuckle softly at George's words.
He turned and looked at him again, a small smile playing at his lips. "I guess some things never change. And I'm glad they don't." His expression turned doubtful again. "But I can't make any promises.."

George gave a small smile. 'Right, no promises. I understand.' He turned away and tugged at lock of hair thoughtfully. 'Yet, I think it is best if we, well, talked about what happened. Aired our grievances, so to speak. It might help us not to make the same mistakes.'

Brandon stood in silence for a while, again staring into the night. The mere thought of having to face all that had happened those years ago made him flinch visibly. Would he be able to leave it all behind and start anew? He doubted he could trust himself there.

He sighed. "I fear we should." He shook his head and snorted. "Eight years... such a long time... one should think that it would be enough to at least forget." Then he continued in a small voice "Yet, I don't know if I ever will be able to..." He was more sad than anything else about that realisation.

'One can't forget such a thing, unless one has no heart.' George rubbed his arms. 'At least we had time to reflect on it...' He sighed and fiddled with his jacket, feeling uneasy. 'At least I... I know now that you never would betray me like I thought you did.'

Brandon turned to him. "I could have never betrayed you. You were my best friend." He looked helpless. "But he is my brother!" The memory of that awful day made him frown. "How could you expect me to stand by and watch you kill eachother?"

He sighed in resignation. "I have never been that strong, George." He shrugged apologetically. "So I took the coward’s way out.”

George stared at Brandon: 'You really honestly thought that I would kill your brother? I hated him. I won't lie, but... He was your brother. You know I had cause to call him out. Jesus, he insulted me, he went around saying how I was a most unsuitable acquaintance to have. For God's sake, he told me that I was not to seek your company...'