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Mitchell had almost no recollection of what it had felt like to lose the lower portion of his arm. The whole mess had been a blur and frankly he was entirely numb at the time from losing Will. Staring at the glass of water on his nightstand, Mitchell rubbed the metal and polycarbonate limb, tracing his fingers over each metallic piece and plastic ridge. The internal electronics of the arm clicked every once in a while, which Mitchell had grown used to. The prosthetic was cool to the touch, almost lifeless. Mitchell had to admit that he had never fully gotten used to the idea of having the prosthetic arm. There was something about it that brought him anxiety, especially around his fellow peers. Sometimes it made him feel weak because it would malfunction during training. Other times, he felt like his prosthetic gave him an unfair advantage and in turn made him look like a chump who needed the assistance. And there was no person he felt more self-conscious around than his captain, Gideon.
Mitchell was beginning to develop feelings for his captain, and sometimes he even felt like his feelings were being reciprocated. From the way his captain spoke in his thick accent, to the way his hair looked as he took off his beanie, Gideon always made Mitchell pleasantly uneasy. However, from the very beginning, Mitchell had felt like his prosthetic was a hinderance for him around his captain.
“Sloppy, Mitchell. You’re a dead man.”
Gideon’s words on their first training day still rang clear in his ears.
“No excuse for equipment failure. The best weapon you have is the one between your ears. Use it.”
That night after the training session was one of the worst Mitchell had ever experienced. He was furious with the metal contraption bound to his body.
‘If only I didn’t have this stupid thing on my arm I’d have been fine! I would’ve finished the mission without a hitch, and Gideon would’ve actually been proud …”
If it wasn’t for the fact that it costed entirely too much to replace, Mitchell probably would have destroyed the prosthetic right there in his bedroom. Mitchell didn’t want to feel this way about himself. There was never anything about the private physically that he didn’t particularly like. Even so, Mitchell was afraid of what Gideon thought about him and much of the anxiety had started to take over how he felt about himself.
The private ran his fingers through his hair, sighing, when a knock came from his door. Startled, he walked over to it, only to find that no one was on the other side upon opening. All that could be seen was a bright yellow sticky note at his feet, folded neatly in half. Reaching down, Mitchell grabbed and opened it, reading the message inside.
See you in the common room.
“How cryptic.” Mitchell said to himself.
Hesitantly, Mitchell quietly made his way to the common room, only to find Gideon staring into the hallway from the couch. He had on nothing but a black t-shirt and grey sweats.
“Evening, private! Glad you actually came.” the captain stated, standing up.
“Well, I had a feeling it was you. I figured the only person who could have handwriting this neat was a Brit.” Mitchell joked.
“Fuck you!” Gideon chuckled, lightly shoving Mitchell in the chest. A comfortable silence fell over the two as they stared at each other for a while.
“Listen,” Gideon broke, “I asked you here because I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s a little unorthodox, but I really need to get this off my chest before it drove me mad.”
Mitchell’s heart began to pound in his ears as the anticipation began to grow.
‘Could this be what I think it is?’ he thought nervously.
“Mitchell, I … I like you.” Gideon stammered. “I know you probably don’t get this often from lads; I fancy you’ve had your fair share of girlfriends. And it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, but I do want you to know that I .. I guess that I would like “us” to be more than friends, yeah?”
Mitchell had never seen his captain blush in the four years that they’d worked together and for the first time he swore his captain was … nervous? Mitchell immediately felt like he had to take this opportunity and milk it for what it was worth.
“Well Gideon,” he started, “you are right. I don’t often have guys hit on me, but I’m flattered. You’re a really great guy, but I don’t know if we’ll work out …”
Gideon’s face immediately fell, disappointment washing over his entire body. Mitchell almost couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Almost.
“Oh, really?” Gideon said, sadly.
“Yeah, I mean this morning you drank black coffee, but you know I can only drink tea. I don’t know if I can commit to something like that.” Mitchell replied jokingly, a stupid grin spreading across his face. Gideon almost outright punched him, instead crossing his muscular arms.
“You fucking twat!” Gideon shouted. “So, wait, does this mean … ?”
“Yeah,” Mitchell answered, “I like you too, you big softie.”
Going in for a hug, Gideon wrapped his arms around Mitchell’s shoulders, pressing a soft kiss on his neck. However, when he drifted his right arm down to Mitchell’s prosthetic, the private violently flinched, taking a clumsy step back.
“What’s wrong, Mitchell?” Gideon asked, a confused look on his face.
“N-Nothing.” Mitchell replied, immediately hiding his prosthetic behind his back. Noticing the gesture, Gideon stepped forward, once again closing the gap between them.
“Mitchell, if it’s about the prosthetic … it’s fine. I really don’t mind if-” Gideon started.
“No, don’t do that.” Mitchell replied. “I don’t want to be your charity case. I don’t need your sympathy.”
“Mitchell, I’m not trying-” Gideon explained.
“I know that you’ve never really liked the thing. I’ve had so much anxiety about this stupid piece of shit.” Mitchell said, pointing at his prosthetic while Gideon remained silent. “You don’t understand what it feels like to lose a part of yourself. This thing isn’t me! I don’t ask that it glitches out, that it’s such a liability.”
Gideon slowly began to understand what Mitchell meant, reaching out to grab his hands.
“Look, Mitchell, I understand that you don’t intentionally mean for it to break down and I’m sorry that sometimes I’m a little bit impatient. If I’ve been an ass to you, which let's be honest I probably have, then please forgive me. But Mitchell, I’m not bothered by the fact that you don’t have your real arm. In the grand scheme of things it doesn’t affect how I feel about you because I like you! I don’t get why you’re so apprehensive about this.” Gideon stated.
“Why? I’m apprehensive about this because it’s a constant reminder of how badly I fucked up, Gideon!” Mitchell shouted. Gideon was taken aback, a hurt look set on his face.
“What do you mean, ‘fucked up’?” Gideon asked.
As badly as he didn’t want to admit it, Mitchell was beginning to realize that the anxiety that he felt about his prosthetic was largely due to the fact that it served as a symbol of how he had failed Will.
“How I fucked up in South Korea, Gid. If I’d have done my job properly, Will would still be alive and I’d still have my arm.” Mitchell answered. “I run through scenarios everyday about how I could have ... how I could have-”
Mitchell’s voice hitched in his throat, choked up by the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Gideon reached out and pulled Mitchell into his embrace, the private’s head resting on his shoulder. The captain rubbed his right hand down Mitchell’s back, before caressing Mitchell’s arm, tracing the lines of his muscles down to where the prosthetic met Mitchell’s bicep. Gideon kissed the crook of Mitchell’s neck before looking back up at the private.
"What if the next time I screw up I end up hurting you?" Mitchell asked.
“You won't, I promise. Jack, I’m not going to say I understand you, because you’re right, I don’t. But I will try to help you work through your guilt. Will would have been proud of all you’ve accomplished. Some things are just meant to happen. Trust me.” Gideon assured.
“Besides, if you hadn’t gotten this prosthetic,” Gideon continued, taking Mitchell’s left hand in his, “I never would’ve met you, mate.”
By this point, Mitchell had already gave up trying to fight back his tears, silently sobbing in front of his captain. Gideon smiled empathetically and wiped away the tears from Mitchell’s face.
“I'm sorry.” Mitchell whispered.
“Don’t be.” Gideon said, before caressing Mitchell’s face and softly kissing his lips. Still holding Mitchell’s hand, Gideon led Mitchell over to the couch, where they both laid down and cuddled, Gideon spooning the private from behind. Under his captain’s strong hold, Mitchell felt safe and calm, relinquishing his fears for the moment. The captain continued to rub circles into Mitchell’s chest with his thumb before he heard the private fall fast asleep.
“Goodnight, love.”