Chapter Text
The Captain knew he had to go about this strategically, one wrong move and the consequences would be disastrous. Naturally, he decided the best course of action was to make it an operation. For organisation, of course, yet there was a strange comfort in phrasing it like a military ordeal. Operation: Dorothy, it was called. Upon watching The Wizard Of Oz for Kitty’s birthday, Dorothy’s musical number in the beginning had somehow stuck with him.
The first step was to come to terms with himself, which he had reluctantly already done. More so in death than in life. The next step was the hardest one.
He had to tell them.
The Captain was ready to tell them, he had been for a while, times had changed and everyone seemed to be highly receptive to the wedding. But going about telling them was entirely different. He figured he should start small (basic training, if you will), build himself up to the point where he was ready to share with everyone.
Where better to start than his trusty old friend, The Pillow.
As 22:00 hours came around; the Captain settled himself on the bed, leaning towards the empty space in front of him. He cleared his throat and fiddled with his swagger stick nervously. He began talking about his day as usual. Mentioning a new club Pat had come up with and a wonderful new television program about tanks. Once he had finished, he sat quietly and waited for the words to come to his mind.
“I… suppose I have something important to share. I don’t know how it started, or when I noticed… but I have come to terms with something about myself.”
He took a deep breath.
“I guess you could say that… I’m a… a homosexual.”
The word felt clunky in his mouth.
“Yes. Yes, that’s it.”
The echoing silence of the room comforted him. He was alone, safe from prying eyes and listening ears. Careless talk wouldn’t cost him anything.
“Well, that’s that I suppose. Goodnight old thing.”
He placed a gentle kiss on the pillow as always, nestling into his bed as his mind whirled about the next coming weeks.
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The following nights he rehearsed the phrase over and over, finding new ways to say it. Eventually he had stopped stuttering, he put on a confident tone and started to say it proudly.
The Captain had started to talk about his experiences, he learned more about himself and what this meant for him. It was all very cathartic, to rant and ramble for hours to a pillow next to him. The solitude of it all made it seem so easy. There was no one to react, no one to judge, just a pillow to quietly listen.
Maybe, after all of this, it wouldn’t be so hard.