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discoveredinaljMemorial
Doyle had been ringing the bell for five minutes, and he couldn’t believe his eyes when the door was finally answered by an unshaven Bodie who was still wearing the same clothes he had worn in the pub last night. “Why aren’t you ready? We’ll be late.”
“I’m not coming, mate,” Bodie said gruffly, and he began to push the door closed.
But Doyle firmly put his hand against the solid oak, and after a moment of resistance Bodie let him in with a shrug.
“Shouldn’t you get going? You’ll be late.”
Doyle had walked past his friend and still had his back to him, but when he finally turned round there was a flash of anger in his eyes. “I don’t understand you sometimes!” he said through grated teeth, trying to hold the frustration back. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, but some of your colleagues died last week and-“
“Save it, Ray,” Bodie said tiredly, opening the door again and indicating that Doyle should use it. “Just go to your memorial service and leave me out of it.”
“That’s it then? Your friends are fine to have a drink with, to share a joke with, but when they’re gone you just forget them? All in the line of duty, no need to grieve for them?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Just go and leave me to it.”
And Doyle was about to do just that when he saw a glint of something in Bodie’s eye. Anger? Tiredness? An unshed tear?
“Just go will you, Ray.”
Shaking his head, Doyle pushed the door gently shut again, ready to listen if he could get Bodie to talk. It might mean missing the service, but maybe sometimes the living are more important than the dead. “I know you miss Cookie,” he ventured quietly. “I do too – I’d known him a long time.”
“It’d be a shame to miss the memorial service then, wouldn’t it?” Bodie said, bristling at the idea of his friend trying to make him express his feelings. “So just go.”
For a few moments, the two men looked at each other, each firm in his stance. Bodie was angry, though he did not express it – angry that Doyle didn’t understand by now that his way of coping with loss was to spring into action, to seek revenge, to ease the pain through activity, not by standing in a church looking miserable. And Doyle was angry too – angry that Bodie was too stubborn to overcome whatever he was feeling and take part in the memorial service in honour of the friends he had lost, as a mark of respect.
It had become a joke to them that Cowley was always going to funerals - but those were usually the funerals of long-serving colleagues, men who died after a comfortable retirement had mellowed their experiences as servicemen. Today’s memorial was not for such men, it was for the CI5 agents who had lost their lives since the Squad was founded, young men like Bodie and Doyle, who would never have time to reflect on their years of service now.
With a sigh and a shake of his head, Doyle walked towards the door, opened it, and stepped outside. “What shall I tell Cowley?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Tell him I’m sorry,” Bodie said, and then he let the door swing shut so that he did not have to watch Doyle’s disappointed gait as he walked away.
Perhaps Cowley would understand. He’d be angry, but he knew what it was like to serve in the army and then an intelligence service, to live a dangerous life and lose a lot of friends at a young age. Surely he knew that those experiences could harden any man? Doyle didn’t have that combat experience, so he couldn’t know how it felt to lose friend after friend after friend after friend – it was only hitting him now that he had joined CI5. After years of it, maybe he wouldn’t be so annoyingly in tune with his feelings any more...
No, Bodie thought, leaning his head heavily against the door. That wasn’t really how he thought of Doyle. Doyle was a thinker, a dreamer, an idealist – and maybe his ability to understand his own feelings made Bodie just a little bit jealous sometimes, when the fragility of life crept up on him and made him want to shake off his friends in case they hurt him by dying. What if Doyle died? How would Bodie react then? Would he stay away from the funeral of the man who had worked at his side longer than anyone, just because it hurt to think about him?
With a sigh, he turned away from the door, rushed to the bathroom, and picked up the electric razor that he never used because he hated its metallic whine. But he had to use it, because if he wasn’t quick then he would miss the service altogether. At least if he turned up slightly late and slipped in quietly at the back, Doyle would realise that he did care – and more importantly, he would prove to himself that he was strong enough to tackle grief head-on now.
Title: Memorial
Author: Rochvelleth
Slash or Gen: It’s not really about relationships, just feelings.
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes please!
Author's Name for Archiving (if different to above): (as above)
Disclaimer: Apparently the Lads don’t belong to me :(
Notes: Set a week or so after No Stone. Written for the DIALJ challenge Discovered in Remembrance.
Doyle had been ringing the bell for five minutes, and he couldn’t believe his eyes when the door was finally answered by an unshaven Bodie who was still wearing the same clothes he had worn in the pub last night. “Why aren’t you ready? We’ll be late.”
“I’m not coming, mate,” Bodie said gruffly, and he began to push the door closed.
But Doyle firmly put his hand against the solid oak, and after a moment of resistance Bodie let him in with a shrug.
“Shouldn’t you get going? You’ll be late.”
Doyle had walked past his friend and still had his back to him, but when he finally turned round there was a flash of anger in his eyes. “I don’t understand you sometimes!” he said through grated teeth, trying to hold the frustration back. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, but some of your colleagues died last week and-“
“Save it, Ray,” Bodie said tiredly, opening the door again and indicating that Doyle should use it. “Just go to your memorial service and leave me out of it.”
“That’s it then? Your friends are fine to have a drink with, to share a joke with, but when they’re gone you just forget them? All in the line of duty, no need to grieve for them?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Just go and leave me to it.”
And Doyle was about to do just that when he saw a glint of something in Bodie’s eye. Anger? Tiredness? An unshed tear?
“Just go will you, Ray.”
Shaking his head, Doyle pushed the door gently shut again, ready to listen if he could get Bodie to talk. It might mean missing the service, but maybe sometimes the living are more important than the dead. “I know you miss Cookie,” he ventured quietly. “I do too – I’d known him a long time.”
“It’d be a shame to miss the memorial service then, wouldn’t it?” Bodie said, bristling at the idea of his friend trying to make him express his feelings. “So just go.”
For a few moments, the two men looked at each other, each firm in his stance. Bodie was angry, though he did not express it – angry that Doyle didn’t understand by now that his way of coping with loss was to spring into action, to seek revenge, to ease the pain through activity, not by standing in a church looking miserable. And Doyle was angry too – angry that Bodie was too stubborn to overcome whatever he was feeling and take part in the memorial service in honour of the friends he had lost, as a mark of respect.
It had become a joke to them that Cowley was always going to funerals - but those were usually the funerals of long-serving colleagues, men who died after a comfortable retirement had mellowed their experiences as servicemen. Today’s memorial was not for such men, it was for the CI5 agents who had lost their lives since the Squad was founded, young men like Bodie and Doyle, who would never have time to reflect on their years of service now.
With a sigh and a shake of his head, Doyle walked towards the door, opened it, and stepped outside. “What shall I tell Cowley?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Tell him I’m sorry,” Bodie said, and then he let the door swing shut so that he did not have to watch Doyle’s disappointed gait as he walked away.
Perhaps Cowley would understand. He’d be angry, but he knew what it was like to serve in the army and then an intelligence service, to live a dangerous life and lose a lot of friends at a young age. Surely he knew that those experiences could harden any man? Doyle didn’t have that combat experience, so he couldn’t know how it felt to lose friend after friend after friend after friend – it was only hitting him now that he had joined CI5. After years of it, maybe he wouldn’t be so annoyingly in tune with his feelings any more...
No, Bodie thought, leaning his head heavily against the door. That wasn’t really how he thought of Doyle. Doyle was a thinker, a dreamer, an idealist – and maybe his ability to understand his own feelings made Bodie just a little bit jealous sometimes, when the fragility of life crept up on him and made him want to shake off his friends in case they hurt him by dying. What if Doyle died? How would Bodie react then? Would he stay away from the funeral of the man who had worked at his side longer than anyone, just because it hurt to think about him?
With a sigh, he turned away from the door, rushed to the bathroom, and picked up the electric razor that he never used because he hated its metallic whine. But he had to use it, because if he wasn’t quick then he would miss the service altogether. At least if he turned up slightly late and slipped in quietly at the back, Doyle would realise that he did care – and more importantly, he would prove to himself that he was strong enough to tackle grief head-on now.
Title: Memorial
Author: Rochvelleth
Slash or Gen: It’s not really about relationships, just feelings.
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes please!
Author's Name for Archiving (if different to above): (as above)
Disclaimer: Apparently the Lads don’t belong to me :(
Notes: Set a week or so after No Stone. Written for the DIALJ challenge Discovered in Remembrance.
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no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 04:22 pm (UTC)Of my close friends and relatives, I've only missed one funeral, my grandfather's. I was only 10, but I knew I couldn't go - his name was the first I ever said .... Think I was right to stay home, I would have been an encumbrance - left to my nana or some distant friend-and-relation, while my father did the pretty. If I had been older, it would have been different).
'scuse me, am empathising like fury with Bodie.
Thank you for sharing - visions of mortality are one thing, facing the coffin is another (particularly in front of others, some people are not good at sharing the trickier emotions).
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 04:34 pm (UTC)But Doyle's right too. Some things need to be done, like it or not.
This was a very nice insight into Bodie's mind - thank you!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 04:51 pm (UTC)Lovely and thoughtful - thank you. I especially love the last line - I think that's so true of all of us.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 05:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 05:41 pm (UTC)"...Would he stay away from the funeral of the man who had worked at his side longer than anyone, just because it hurt to think about him?..."
So he's doing this to practise for Doyles funeral... Wanders off to cry...
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 07:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 11:22 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 11:36 pm (UTC)Thanks.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 11:57 pm (UTC)I am glad now that I could attend my grandparents' funerals, though I was reluctant to go to the first (my grandfather's) because I was afraid it would hurt too much. As it turned out I was able to say goodbye to him properly and hear about his life from all his friends who saw a side of him that I never saw. The funeral and the high tea after (a Cornish tradition, they always go together) turned into a celebration of his life and actually helped my grandmother to carry on without him for a few more years - as
So I too am glad that Bodie finally decided to go, and I think he'll find that being there with Doyle and his mates, providing an opportunity to remember Cookie together, will be a very different thing to grieving alone.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-09 12:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-09 07:19 am (UTC)