garantundkraft | Sentinels and Guides are Known [Part the Second]

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Sentinels and Guides are Known [Part the Second]

It's been three nights. Three very frustrating nights of no sleep, followed by either fighting or advancing the line and re-digging in or any of a number of other things that just add to the stress and exhaustion piling on Gilbert's shoulders. For one, the guy two foxholes down? Snores. Loudly. It's amazing he hasn't given away their position, or that anyone else on this half of the continent can sleep. Never mind the fact that when he has to work with the other Sentinels, they mock him. Not just for his taste in Guides or the fact that he's got to be a hopeless romantic if the stories about Arthur just falling into his ~~arms~~ foxhole are true. But for other things. And never mind the fact that he just knows he's going to end up getting in a fight one of these days.

So what finally made him snap? Was it the tiredness? The hazing? The fact that he felt horribly empty and lonely?

No. The last straw was when he could hear the earthworms burrowing through the dirt behind his head. At which point he promptly packed up what gear he had out, and slipped out of his foxhole. Because no. He was not dealing with that. He felt like death warmed over already. He was going to go insane or kill himself or something if he didn't get some sleep. Gilbert did have enough presence of mind to let his squad leader know where he was going, but beyond that?

Well, he still doesn't quite know how he got past the sentry, or how he got into the tent Arthur was said to be in without being noticed, but as soon as he's in there, Gilbert is shedding his extra crap and sitting down to take off his boots.

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The past few days had not been kind to Arthur either. After all, he was British, and he was stuck in the back lines with a bunch of German Guides, both male and female, and they were rather catty to him. Sure, they didn't pick fights or hurt him, at least not physically. A Guide was not supposed to act like that, as directed by German law. But that didn't mean they couldn't play mind games with him. They translated things wrong, cut up his clothes, excluded him from their needlepoint circle, made fun of his eyebrows...

But what bothered Arthur more than the Guides' behavior was that of the Sentinels. They were all men, big strapping soldiers, and they were complete pigs around him. They viewed Arthur as a woman without a husband to protect him. That either meant he was fair game to be teased and propositioned (in private, of course), or treated like a dainty flower. He almost lost it when some guy took off his own jacket and set it over a puddle so that Arthur's boots wouldn't get dirty. He was lucky Arthur was stopped before he could attack.

So things certainly were not a picnic. Arthur thought of his fellow soldiers every night and prayed for them to do their best. He also prayed to God to give him strength to continue this path he was on. He was still alive, so he must have been doing something right. He wasn't sure what that was.

He had almost fallen asleep when he heard noises. Arthur jolted up in his cot and turned to see his Sentinel sitting on the floor next to him.

"Gilbert?" he whispered. He hadn't seen him since the day they first met. And now he was right there. Didn't even ask, or anything. Just waltzed on in.

It's technically his tent too, even if he hasn't been using it. With how keyed up his senses have become, even the whisper sounds loud to his ears, and he flinches before he nods. "Ja, es ist mir." Gilbert punctuates that with a yawn as he sets his left boot aside and starts to work on the right.

Once the boots are off, he rubs his face and looks up at Arthur with bleary eyes. "Ich kann bleiben?" Quietly, he prays that Arthur lets him stay, because he's worn out.

Arthur's eyes narrow a bit. As much as he wants to tell Gilbert to get lost, he can see how tired he is. And, truthfully, Arthur is tired, too. Their bond was cut off so suddenly, and it was a strain to be apart for just a few days. They really needed to train.

After a stare he rolls his eyes and just flops back onto the bed. "Do whatever you want. That's how things go down here, yeah?"

...He'll take that as a yes, even if he doesn't appreciate the tone. Still, he certainly remembers that argument they had translated for them, and he really just wants a good night's sleep, so Gilbert keeps his opinion on that to himself. "Danke."

He gets up, stretching, to see where his cot must be. Except... well, he hasn't been there, so there isn't one. What. No. "Euhhhh, Artur? Wo ist mein Bett?"

Oh, just stop talking already. Arthur's arm is covering his eyes.

"Bett... Your bed? What about it?"

"Wo ist es?" He's looking around a bit lost as to where he's supposed to sleep. At least, until it occurs to him that there's only one bed in here and Arthur is sleeping in it. At which point, his expression can be best defined as 'WHAT DO I DO'.

After all, if he orders Arthur out of the bed that isn't very respectful and will probably get him yelled at. If he just goes to sleep on the ground he might get bitched at for whatever imagined slight Arthur comes up with, since he made it fairly clear he didn't appreciate Gilbert comparing him to a wife, even if he didn't outright say it. And that cot is not big enough for two. He's tried, damnit.

Hm. Arthur raised his arm so that he could look at Gilbert. There was only one cot in there. He hadn't thought about it before, but now that they were both there...

He cleared his throat and sat up again. "This is... it. Eine Bett..."

"Wunderbar." He just facepalms then. And crosses his legs to drop down to the ground, sitting. "Ein Bett..." Gilbert groans, face in his hands, before sitting up. "Very well. I will sleep on the ground and you can have the bed. Any complaints?"

Arthur stayed still for a moment as he tried to figure out what Gilbert was saying. He pieced together a few words.

"Oh, no. You're not treating me like some woman." He flung off the blanket and began getting up. "You sleep in bed. I'll take the floor."

Can he just have a hard, vertical surface to beat his head against? Because he called it. He so called it. "That's not what I... Oh for fuck's sake. And just how would you have reacted if I said I was taking the bed, huh?!"

This was definitely one of those damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't situations, Gilbert. You weren't going to win either way.

Arthur just growled back at him. He seemed to understand the gist of what the Sentinel was saying. "I don't understand how anyone can be so selfish. After all I did for you, you expected me to come live here..." By now, Arthur was sitting on the floor on the other side of the cot. "So, here I am. And everyone treats me like I'm worthless! I told you I couldn't come here, but you didn't listen!"

"I don't get why you're complaining! You have a pretty nice deal here. You know what would've happened if I went with you?! They would've locked me up and shot me!" He huffs in return, moving so he can lean over the bed and look at Arthur while he's talking to him. "This fucking sucks! I can't sleep, I can't focus, and they're treating me like an uppity G- I am not finishing that. Nope. Can't make me."

Once he's said his piece, he drops back down to sit on his side of the cot. Honestly. It would be nice if Arthur would just try to cooperate. (Never mind that, really, Arthur has been very cooperative. Not that it meets Gilbert's expectations.)

Well, once Gilbert sits down on the cot, Arthur rests his chin on the other side so that he can glare up at him. It's pathetic, really, them arguing. But Arthur feels he's right, and he hates backing down. He's already done that enough lately, and look at where it's gotten him.

Damn, he's tired. Having Gilbert close by is already helping the tension. At least in one way. "Just go to sleep."

"I was trying to not disturb you. That's all." He sighs, cursing whoever designed the cots to not really be big enough for two. It's very tempting to run his fingers through Arthur's hair, but... yeah, that would probably get more yelling aimed at him.

Gilbert gets up and heads back over to his gear, curling up and using a softer part of the pack as a pillow. He isn't backing down either.

Oh, so now he wasn't going to use the bed? Arthur is beside himself. He picks up the pillow off the cot and tosses it right at Gilbert's head. "Idiot."

"Moron." Once he'd said that Arthur could stay in the bed, he'd had no intentions of sleeping there "It's your bed."

No, he couldn't sleep there! It'd just show he was weak. He doesn't respond this time, just disappears around the other side. He'll just wrap up in these uniforms he was given. German uniforms. Ugh.

"Artur..." He says this with a sigh. "Why are you so stubborn..." Gilbert is really trying here.

Trying what? To make him feel inadequate? Arthur peeks up over the side of the cot so only that the upper half of his face is visible. He really likes how Gilbert says his name. It's interesting.

"Shush."

Trying to be polite and respectful, gosh! "Gute Nacht, Artur." He rolls onto his side, facing Arthur's direction. It really is much nicer here, even if they're arguing. He feels... content.

"..."

For some reason, Arthur is disappointed when Gilbert says good night. It sounds so... Final? But that's good, right? It means that they could sleep. Yes. Perfect. So that's what Arthur will do, sleep.

Instead he would rather sit there and watch Gilbert a bit more. That guy has been sleeping out in a foxhole and now he was taking the floor. Arthur felt guilty about that, even though Gilbert totally deserved the floor because he was a grade-A jackass the other day. Yeah.

...No. Arthur doesn't like it. He sighs and crawls around the other side of the cot until he's next to Gilbert.

"Please take the bed."

He opens one eye to look at Arthur curiously. He can understand the intent of the other man's words well enough, though he doesn't quite get why Arthur is over here. The ground doesn't bother Gilbert any; he's a soldier first and foremost. Though a bed would be nice, he's honestly more content to just be with his Guide. "I don't understand you."

It's said in a tired sort of tone, because he's not trying to start a fight. "I'm fine here."

Arthur did not want to fight anymore either. Maybe if they were less tired, or, better yet, if Gilbert could understand his insults. But right now, he would be civil. He sat next to Gilbert and tugged the blanket off the cot.

"Sure."

"Lemme guess. We're both gonna end up sleeping on the ground." Which, at this point, is fine with him. Gilbert wraps his jacket a bit tighter around himself, still keeping an eye on Arthur's movements. Honestly, he's in some ways surprised the Guide stayed and didn't try to return to the British side of the line. "Fine, but I warn you, I snuggle."

More like he's a heat-seeking missile, or would be if those things existed at that point in time.

Edited (wow, maybe I shouldn't tag after drinking...) 2012-08-05 02:10 (UTC)

Arthur had no idea what Gilbert said. He just covered his Sentinel with the blanket and remained sitting by his side. Not because he cared about Gilbert, or because it was his duty, or anything like that. Arthur just wanted him to sleep. Perhaps, then, they could start working on strengthening their bond. And then Arthur could teach Gilbert about respecting him. But not like a wife. Because Arthur was not a wife, nor would he ever be a wife.

Germans were weird.

Edited (maybe you should always tag after drinking lmao) 2012-08-05 02:19 (UTC)

"Lay down and get some sleep, okay? It'd suck if you were tired." He pats the ground near him, though at the same distance he'd motion for any other soldier to sleep at. See? He can try to do the whole 'equals' thing! Because if he weren't trying, he'd be whinging about how he's cold and Arthur needs to cuddle him and keep him warm. Though, really, a properly trained Guide wouldn't need to be told.

Britons were weird.

(well, it does lead to hilarious html fails)

He was a properly trained Guide! He'd gone to school and everything, knew he was a Guide when he was a wee lad. They test that in his country, you know, so you're not trained as something you don't need to be. So there.

Arthur frowns at the hand patting, but finally lies down and scoots closer so that they could share warmth. The blanket, of course. Share the warmth of the blanket.

There are tests for that sort of thing? Usually they just rely on the fact that it runs in families, and that young Guides tend to exhibit certain traits and behaviours. Which is hardly the most scientific method, and you'd think the Germans of all people would use a more reliable method... But then, considering their present ideas concerning human genetics, perhaps not.

Gilbert tosses half of the blanket over Arthur. "Gute Nacht?"

Hold on, he's still getting comfortable. He wants as much of that blanket as he can get. Sleeping on the ground isn't so bad, since that is what he'd been doing for the past several months. But he doesn't like the cold.

"Yes, yes, Gute Nacht, Gilbert..." Was that a snuggle?

He has no idea. Was it? What he is doing is tentatively reaching his hand out to touch Arthur's, because the closer they are the more at ease he feels. So actual physical contact must clearly be even better! And if eventually there is proper snuggling, well, hopefully they can work out who is the pillow without accusations of disrespect flying.

"In englische, was ist Gute Nacht?"

It really did calm Arthur down when they were touching. He actually felt better now that he knew Gilbert was able to relax. Arthur had problems about touching, or being touched in public. Because that was something that was just not done in Britain, he wasn't comfortable about it. Though he supposed this was alright, since they were the only people here. And he actually enjoyed touching Gilbert. ...Gilbert's hand. Yes.

His eyes slid open at the question. Really, Gilbert didn't know how to say that? The phrases were so similar. But instead of voicing his surprise, Arthur speaks slowly so that Gilbert can follow. "Good. Night."

To be fair, casual touch is more the demesne of the Romance nations; Italy, France, Spain. In Germany also, there is a cultural reluctance to just touch other people for no reason. Gilbert even had a few friends who had to call their parents Here Vater and Frau Mutter, even in private. Although Gilbert can be very free with his physical affection, he does rather like touching Arthur especially.

"Good Night." He smiles. Perhaps he'd already known it, but it never hurts to double check just in case of false cognates.

And, damn, the smile is infectious. Arthur wants to stay mad at Gilbert, but that is proving difficult right now. Perhaps because he's so sleepy. He smiles back warmly. This is my partner, he thinks. My own Sentinel, at last.

"Good night."

He falls asleep fairly fast, now that he can finally relax and focus. Luckily for Arthur, he doesn't really snore; unluckily, he does tend to migrate towards warmth. Given about an hour, he will be curled around Arthur, and perhaps clinging a bit tenaciously should his Guide awaken. Gilbert is also remarkably hard to wake under normal circumstances, so he'll be very difficult to detach. Yes. He sleeps like the dead.

And maybe, just maybe, Arthur is going to allow the cuddling. Because he likes it. He likes feeling needed. Maybe he'll cuddle back.

It's the most restful sleep he's had in months.

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Sentinels and Guides are Known [Part the Second]

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Buhyoooo art why so cute

nuoooo gil is cutest