Elliot's hand tightened on his phone. His first instinct was to text back something controlled and professional—No problem. Thanks for the heads up—but his fingers weren't cooperating. His second instinct was to call Reed and demand to know what the fuck happened to Hale’s deployment. His third instinct was to get in his car, drive to the airport, and catch the first flight to anywhere that wasn't North Carolina.
He did none of those things. Instead, he walked to his office, closed the door, and sat at his desk staring at the three texts like they might rearrange themselves into anything less catastrophic.
His phone buzzed again.
Reed: I know I should have told you sooner
Reed: but I also know you would have spent threemonths spiraling about it
Reed: this way you only get two days of spiraling
Reed: you’re welcome
Elliot:I'm not spiraling.
Reed: sure you're not
Reed: look it’s fine. you're both adults. you can handle being in the same room for a few hours
Reed: also Sarah's parents have spent 80k on this wedding so you're not allowed to make it weird
Reed: just be normal
Reed: can you be normal?
Reed: Elliot
Reed: buddy
Reed: I know you're reading these
Elliot:I can be normal.
Reed: great! see you Friday. rehearsal dinner is at 1800. try not to look like you're attending a funeral
Elliot set his phone down and closed his eyes.
Two days. Forty-eight hours to reinforce the walls he'd built. To ensure that when he walked into that rehearsal dinner he would appear perfectly composed.
Reed had decided somewhere along the way that they were friends whether Elliot agreed or not, and this was not the first time he pulled Elliot into situations he'd rather avoid.
It started eighteen months ago in Germany. A corporal fucked up coordinates, Reed's team ended up in an active demolition site, and Elliot drove straight into the collapse zone with three guys and zero authorization.
They pulled Reed's team out with two minutes to spare.
When the adrenaline had faded, Reed showed up at Elliot's quarters with two beers, called him an idiot, and meant the opposite.
After that, Reed sought him out. Coffee before briefings. Runs when they were both off-duty. Bars when Elliot had spent too long in operational planning without coming up for air.
Elliot had never had a friend like Reed. Someone who treated his carefully constructed walls like a minor inconvenience, stepping around them without ceremony, completely oblivious to the architectural effort involved, and somehow making him feel lighter for it.
It was uncomfortable. Unfamiliar. It also sort of reminded him of someone else entirely.
Turned out, Elliot didn't hate it. In fact, he had come to appreciate it.
Six months later, Reed invited him to the wedding.
"You should come," he’d said, three beers in and getting sentimental.
