“Looks simple from here.” Carson's voice broke, but he took a deep breath that let him finish fairly steady. “You somehow got my brother's picture of me,

tracked me down, stalked me, then made me think we had something between us. That's sick.”

China suddenly understood Carson wasn't bracing for a fight. He was holding on to the pews to literally stop himself from shaking. For a little guy, he had a big temper. He turned on the pew and faced him head on.

“Okay. I understand you're angry.”

“Angry? Try betrayed, used, fucked-”

“Stop!” China moved closer, grabbing Carson's wrist on the front pew just to connect better. Carson liked actions more than words. Tremors ran through the arm under his grip, but he suspected hurt fueled them more than hate. “You have a right to be angry, but most of that other stuff isn't true. I didn't betray you or use you.”

He touched the side of Carson's face, his chest aching at the unhealthy coolness of the porcelain-like skin. He lowered his voice, longing slipping out along with the truth. “And it was more than fucking for me.” His thumb brushed lightly over Carson's lips. “Not that it could work out between us, but—”

Carson jerked his head to one the side, brushing off China's caress. “Just tell me where you got the photo.”

This was the hard part. Reliving it in order to tell it. He took a deep breath, trying to sweep away the memories, at least the hardest ones. He reminded himself that what he felt was nothing compared to what Carson would go through. “Jim gave it to me.”

“What?” Anger drained away in an instant. Carson was left looking frightened and lost. “When?”

A hesitant knock on the door frame heralded the arrival of a young woman to the chapel doorway. She glanced in, anxious eyes studying their faces before she gave them a nod and a small smile. China pegged her for a curious church worker timidly investigating raised voices. Apparently, they were non-

threatening enough to satisfy her. She left even more quietly than she had arrived.

“Just before we got hit the hardest with a ton of enemy firepower.”

“You were with him when he died?” China was sure the young man would keel over if he got any paler. “Is that how you were injured?” Shaking hands ransacked his clothing, touching his chest and arms, remembering where all the deepest wounds lay. “All the ragged scars?”

Carson jumped to his feet, still holding on to China. Both his hands were fisted around large folds of jacket, hanging on for dear life. “How did it happen? Tell me!”

“Sit down and I will.” China grabbed hold of Carson's forearms and forced him to sit. He kept his grip firm to ward off his own crazy thought that if he didn't Carson would disappear like wisps of smoke. “But you have to listen. I can't give you all of the details. They're classified, and they don't really matter anyway.” Carson made to rise up, but China pulled him back down beside him. “But you have to sit!”

It took a moment, but Carson finally relaxed back into the pew, trepidation shrouding his expression. “So talk.”

China was shocked to realize he'd give anything to take away the mistrust in Carson's eyes. The trip really hadn't turned out the way he had planned. Not by a long shot. Christ-on-a-pogo-stick, he wanted this over with.

“I joined the fire unit at the end of March. Fifth man in. I replaced a guy who went stateside. Your brother was sergeant, along with three others guys. Wilson, Vincent and Bradley. All good guys. Fair. We fit, like a team is supposed to.”

China looked off toward the candles burning on the center table. Memories, good and bad, came to life in the flickering light. The faint sound of a chorus singing drifted through the open chapel door, a sweet counterpoint to the nightmare playing in his head. “It can be hard when you're the new guy, but the Sarge and I clicked from the start. We got to be good friends pretty quick.”

He tore his gaze away to meet Carson's expectant stare. “Facing death together everyday can do that.”

Carson didn't comment. “Your brother was like that. Easy going. Quick to take to most people. Friendly, accepting, perceptive. Too perceptive, in my case.”

“How?”

“Jim could figure a person out and tell him things nobody else knew just by observing him for a while. Once all five of us were getting drunk and stupid. The guys are partying and chatting up the working girls. Blowing off steam and hoping for a blow job. At one point Jim and I both wander off to get rid of the cheap beer we're drinking. There's one light bulb in the shit hole of a latrine and the noise from the bar was so loud the door might as well have been open. It looks deserted except for us. To make a long story short, Jim says it must be hard, wanting some ass and not enjoying what was being offered by the working girls. I keep my personal life to myself but Jim had me figured out. Before I can answer him, some jerk from another unit stumbles out of the shadows and gets in my face. Calling me a faggot and threatening to make a report. Asshole is high as a kite.”

“What happened?”

“Jim told him if he said a word, he'd be peeing into a cup and on his way to Leavenworth before any other dishonorable discharge papers were signed. 'Don't ask, don't tell' may be official policy, but it doesn't keep you safe from assholes with guns in the field.”

“It's a stupid policy.”

“I'm not arguing with you there.”

“Finish. Please.”

“After the first month, Jim started talking about his younger brother, Carson. Sharing stories from your letters, childhood pranks and stuff. I got to know you pretty well. Jim says how proud he is, how smart and successful you are, and good-looking, too. Eventually, he says he'd like it if Carson found

someone special. Someone solid, hardworking, to share his life with. Then he hands me your picture and asks, 'Think you could do right by him? You're Carson's type.'”

“That's were you learned to pronoun my name the way he did.”

“It's the only way I ever heard it said. Seemed only right.”

Carson tugged and China let go of his arms, pleased when the young man didn't move away once he was free.

“He knew you were gay?”

China nodded. “I almost choked. I wanted to say he had it all wrong, but I guess having a gay brother tuned him into the subtle things. Anyway, he knew. I didn't argue with him. Just told him you were a looker.” China remembered that day, remembered the first time he'd seen those amazing, green marbled eyes.

“Jim laughed and said he'd introduce me the next time we had leave Stateside. Fix us up on a blind date if I wanted.” This time China laughed, a sad, tired chuckle. “Like I needed convincing after seeing your face. Hell, I was thinking the whole time that if you were half the person Jim was you'd have guys all over you. There'd be no room for me.”

The wariness had faded away but now Carson's mouth was pulled tight in a thin line, his eyes rimmed with moisture. China could see fine tremors shake Carson's shoulders. It was taking everything the young man had to hold it together.

“Jim was a good man, Carson. We only knew each other a few months but your brother was the best friend I ever had. Good man, good soldier, good friend with a good heart.” He rubbed his palm over the edge of the pew in front of him, the wood smoothe and warm, smelling of soap and polish. “My life is less with him gone. I miss him everyday. I can't begin to imagine how you feel.”

“No, you can't imagine. Without Jim, I'm alone. Totally alone. He was my entire family!” Carson hugged his arms to this chest, face ashen. “Last night— Christ, China! I was vulnerable, raw, my emotions were exposed and you knew

it. I needed to be with another human being last night. Needed to find some comfort. With someone who cared.”

China couldn't take the hurt in Carson's eyes anymore. He reached out to wrap his arms around the shaking man. Carson pushed him away with both hands. China rocked back dropping his arms to his sides. Carson's faltering words cut him to the bone.