Chapter Text
„Do you need anything else, your Excellency?”
He looked up and regretted it instantly. Washington only hoped he managed a blank expression. It was getting more difficult with every meeting. “That would be all, Major Tallmadge.”
But he didn’t bow his head and leave like normal, he remained there, frozen and his face so concerned it touched him. Why had this concern have to be for the general and not for him as a person?
“Sir, regarding the letters…”
He tore his eyes away from Tallmadge’s and the movement almost caused physical pain. “I said, that would be all.”
“Yes, sir. Forgive me.”
He could picture the pained expression on his face, the sadness, the crushed hopes. God, he was sorry! But it was for the best. It was always for the best. Not for the cause, not for him, but for Tallmadge. The boy might disagree now, but if he knew the truth? Washington shook his head and pushed the mere idea away. There was no use lingering on that thought. It was never to happen.
He looked up to see Tallmadge rush out of the tent. The sight did nothing for the calm he was so desperately longing for.
Longing… He was longing for something differently, but he couldn’t give in. Never. And certainly not with Tallmadge! The boy was a preacher’s son and raised to detest sodomy. He was raised to be the perfect soldier, the perfect loyal right-hand man. Such a boy was not meant to be the bedwarmer of the likes of him and he would be horrified by the idea of sharing his bed.
But his eyes… From all the things Benjamin Tallmadge was and looked alike, Washington had fallen for his eyes. The blue orbs that held so many emotions, so much ardor, and sometimes looked at him with so much hero worship and trust one could neatly believe it to be love.
He had tried everything. He had pushed the boy away, been cold, hard and refused to see him while he longed for nothing more, but like the sun he came, every day- in his tent, in his councils, in his dreams.
It was hopeless.
He walked over to the picture of Martha that stood beside his bed and let his fingers ghost over the glass. She had laughed at him, her voice still so fresh in his head: Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness… He had signed these demands, he fought for these demands, might very likely die for them, but would never be able wo get them.
Happiness… He was happy with Martha at his side and the laughter of her children in the garden. He was happy with the victories, his friends and the idea of a new nation, there nation. But happiness? That was not for him, not even in the nation he would create. Happiness would mean to give into the sickness that had its claws in his heart. He couldn’t. And certainly not with Benjamin.
Sometimes he wondered if it would be so bad if one of the assassins would succeed. There would be another Commander in Chief, maybe one with more victories, certainly one with a child and without this malady. One that wouldn’t need to make sure his eyes wouldn’t wander, wouldn’t linger.
Martha was the only one that knew and he was lucky enough to have a wife who understood, who didn’t push and demanded children, intimacy. She had laughed and given him a kiss on the cheek. If that’s all… I have two wonderful children, George, I can live with that.
A horse galloped past his tent. Lieutenant Brewster? He was bound to return tonight, wasn’t he?
Washington rubbed his eyes and fought against the jealousy in his heart. It wasn’t easy, not with Brewster always being around Tallmadge, seeing him smile, seeing him at ease… If only he just desired him, a sick form of longing, but he was past the point of telling himself it was a fleeing attraction to a beautiful face. He loved Benjamin Tallmadge. The way he laughed, the passion in his actions, the will to fight for his believes, for his friends. He wasn’t one of them and maybe that was the biggest reason of jealousy. Caleb Brewster with his drinking and brothels was closer to Benjamin than he could ever be.
A father, a mentor, a general. Even a friend would be enough for him, something that wasn't aloof and . Washington sighted and looked down at the letters of Congress. Work… it had always helped him.
*****
Washington’s head was hurting like the whole army rode over it and the pain was increasing whenever he looked down at his half-written answer to Congress. He needed air. He needed a break, just a break.
As soon as he stepped out of the tent, the life guards came to him, but he waived them of. Since Benjamin had saved him from a complot in which one of his own guards wanted to assassin him, he tried to keep them on distance. And he could do distance. Only now, under the night sky with the laughter of men only meters away did he really understand how lonely he was.
Sure, he could walk up to them, talk to them and sit with them- and ruin the laughter. The only people that were used to his company now were his officers and aide-de-camps. And Benjamin. He groaned. Benjamin…
He circled around the fire and tried to think about what to do now, how to act, how to solve this. His headaches didn’t subside with that line of thinking but came back a tenfold more intense than before. Relaxing was something else.
Looking up into the sky, he wondered if there might ever be a cure to this. He had tried everything, even praying- it didn’t help and what had for long just been a little spark of hellfire became the whole damn thing with Benjamin’s presence.
He walked on, past tents and stables and either do to masochism or simple attraction to the tent the boy was sleeping in. It wasn’t a conscious decision and still said everything about his state. Drawn to him like a moth to the light. He still saw a candle in there, the light he was drawn to. It was long past midnight. Why wasn’t Benjamin sleeping?
A heartbeat long he allowed himself to dream. To dream about the boy thinking about him, wishing for his company, just as he wished for his. They could talk, not like the general and major, but like friends. This was more than he would ever get, even though it was absolutly harmless. Just talk with him, as a friend.
He didn’t even know one thing about Benjamin’s private life, nothing that hadn’t been in the folder he received from Sacket. He knew of his brother and of Nathan Hale, the best friend he had sent of to die. But Benjamin as a person? He only shared these things with Brewster, maybe Hamilton, but certainly not with him.
“He’s still in there?”
Washington was quick to hide behind the tent.
“Aye, working his ass off for our general.”
That was Brewster. And there was no question about whom they were talking. Was it always like this? Him, keeping Ben from his friends? The idea of exclusiveness and possession didn’t thrill him, it made him sad. Even in college, between rich and educated fellow students, he still held onto his friendship with farmers and whalers, his friends. Now he was keeping him from them and not even showing Ben his gratitude.
“Yeah, and his ass is exactly what the man is interested in. You heard Bradford.”
Caleb threw his bottle of madeira away and nearly jumped at the other man’s throat. “Shut it! Bradford is an arse.”
“But he is right. You just hit him because our Major needed the help.”
Brewster remained silent. No defense? Oh god, was it that obvious?
“You think they have something? He is often alone with the general.”
End this. Now! Could he promote Benjamin away from him? He owed the boy his reputation after all the things he did for him. He owed him the possibility of a happy life and marriage. This talk might bring him to the gallows and he swore himself not to see the proud neck of Benjamin Tallmadge in a noose. Never! His dreams were enough.
Caleb took a long sip of madeira. “You know Bennyboy. He would not even know how to do it. If that talk would be true, they would already have told Congress- or the red coats. The war would already be over, if this would be true.”
“Isn’t an answer. Think he is bending him over his desk when they say they are discussing whatever a major and his Excellency need to talk about and…” He made a rather clear movement with his hands- and mouth.
“Let it go, buddy!”
“What Brewster, never thought about it? Pretty little major like Tallmadge? He was promoted on first sight. Never asked why?”
Brewster didn’t aswer, because suddenly the entrance of the tent was pushed away and Benjamin Tallmadge stormed out into the cold night, his head as red as the British coats. “How dare you!”
Caleb Brewster rushed towards his friend, blocking his way to the other drunkard, who was still making obscene movements with his hands. Movements, Washington forced himself to ignore and yet couldn’t. “Relax, Benny, no one is talking about you…”
“Me?” The major now grabbed his friend and shook him in his fury. “You are talking about our Commander in Chief! Do realize of what you are accusing him of?”
The truth. God, what would he say, if he knew the truth?
“No one…”
“You are playing with his life! And that is something I will not tolerate.”
Brewster pushed him away and suddenly all the friendliness in his face was gone- and the fun. “You’re a major, Tallboy, I know. What you gonna do? Arrest me? Hang me?”
“Caleb…”
“What?” The word was deadly than a saber slash.
“You know what I mean… You know him. I cannot allow…”
“Allow what you want, I don’t care. See how you get Abe’s answers without that lowly childfriend of yours. Bet he won’t be interested in you without me and the ring.”
“Caleb!”
“What? You…”
Ben dragged him inside the tent, but the cat was out of the bag. Would it never end? He could only hope that the other man was too drunk to grasp what he just overheard.
Only minutes later did Brewster storm out of the tent and Benjamin came after him, shoulders hunched and head low. He looked lost, hopeless. It broke Washington’s heart. And he was the cause of it.
Suddenly, Ben looked up and looked right into his eyes. Surprise, shame, fear. All evident in his eyes. The fear let his heart fracture even more. And he had hoped for a friendship.
“Sir.” It sounded like the last word of a dying man.
“Major.” He inclined his head. Go!
“Sir, there is something I need to tell you.” He creased his hands, unable to look Washington in the eye. “I… Could I be so bold as to request an audience? Now?”
He forced a neutral tone into his voice. “If it is of such importance.”
His shoulders hunched even more. “I am afraid it is, sir.”