Characters: Gilbert, mentions of Clarence
Summary: Gilbert indulges in a bit of self-pity.
Notes: Canon. Not sure how/if this will fit into the bigger picture of Rosalie & Gilbert’s chapter. I’ve kind of hinted at this in the main story, but I haven’t come out and discussed any of it. I’m trying to keep things somewhat realistic, so please keep that in mind.
Word Count: 291
My worst nightmare just came true, he thought as the letter slipped from his hands and let his head come to an abrupt rest against the wall of his bunkroom. What am I going to do now?
Gilbert knew he was being foolish. It wasn’t possible to have what he wanted, not then. His sister had drilled it into his head for long enough that he almost believed her. Still, a tiny part of him buried deep inside had believed that he and Clarence would somehow manage to be together, despite all the odds. But now, that would really be out of the realm of possibility.
At least he had the courage to tell you, the voice in his head whispered.
As if that really matters, retorted another, louder voice. You would have found out sooner or later.
This way it’s not from one of Rosalie’s insufferable letters filled with nonsense about how many bandages she’s rolled or what Bruce did in Washsimton on his day off, the first voice replied.
Gilbert shook his head and pressed his palms against his temples, as if it would silence the voices. It didn’t help. They continued to argue as he picked up the letter and began to reread it for the twelfth time.
I wanted you to hear it from me and not from that bitch you call a sister. I’m getting married. I’m sorry, but I have too. I can’t face the questioning looks anymore. I need to do something to make people stop it, and this is the only thing I can think of. I met her at the shipyard where I’ve been working. I think you’d like her, if you’re willing to give her a chance.