Harboured and Encompassed, Chapter 25/27
After a brief hiatus, Harboured and Encompassed is BACK! Also, for those of you who are excited to see each installment, you'll be happy to know that part of the reason for the few weeks off from posting is that I scrapped most of the final chapter of the novel and replaced it with 3 mostly new chapters (and approximately 30,000 words). So, enjoy the extra text! For those of you who are looking forward to this being over, you only have one week left to suffer (at least, until I finish the sequel).
Title: Harboured and Encompassed
Author: BBCPhile
Chapter: 25/27
Word Count: 4856
Pairing: Horatio Hornblower/Archie Kennedy
AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9135700/chapters/25540275/
Trigger warnings: hospitals, panic attack
“You’re not going anywhere,” Simpson growled as hard, firm fingers wrapped around his arm and squeezed, the fingerpads digging into his flesh.
Archie squirmed, trying to break free from the vice-like grip. “Get away from me.”
A persistent beeping blared around him.
“One last chance. On your knees,” Simpson spat out as the pressure grew tighter and tighter.
“NO,” Archie yelled, jerking up to a sitting position and clawing desperately at his arm. He had to get him off, he--
“Archie, it’s alright. You’re safe. He’s not here,” Horatio soothed.
Archie blinked and struggled to focus his eyes as the words echoed around in his mind. Why was his head so heavy?
“Just a blood pressure cuff, Archie. Rest, now,” Will murmured.
Archie slumped back against the bed as his head continued to spin. Why did his brain feel like mush? Had he been drugged?
A hand took his. He stared down at it. Those were Horatio’s fingers. He turned his head to follow a path from the hand, to the arms, to Horatio’s face, bruised and swollen, his forehead creased with worry.
The beeping stopped.
“H’ratio?” Archie managed, his voice surprisingly gravelly.
Horatio blinked repeatedly, his eyes filling with tears, then squeezed his hand. “I’m here,” he whispered. “Welcome back.” He brought Archie’s hand up to his face, wincing slightly with the movement, and pressed a feather-light kiss to the back of his hand.
Archie squinted. Welcome back? What did that mean? He shook his head to focus on the one thing that mattered. “How’re you? S’your arm ok?”
Horatio gaped at him. “How am I? Archie, you collapsed!”
Archie blinked. “What?”
“Dehydration, low blood sugar, and sleep deprivation,” Will said calmly. “You’ve been out for almost two hours.”
Archie’s eyes flew open wide and he glanced about him as his chest started to tighten. He was on his back in a hospital bed, and Horatio’s bed was pressed alongside his. Will sat in a chair at the foot of their makeshift double bed, and blue curtains had been pulled all around, separating them from the rest of the ward. He glanced to his right. An IV bag hung from a metal hook. He followed the tube with his eyes, down the metal stand, and down to the needle sticking out of the crook of his arm.
No. Oh fuck, no.
He’d ruined everything. He hadn’t tried hard enough, and he’d abandoned Horatio to wake up from surgery alone, and now he was forcing Horatio to comfort him, and he was hurting Izzy, and, oh, God, what if Izzy’d told their parents what Simpson had been doing, and - fuck, Will knew everything now, he must hate him for being a pathetic, pitiful weakling, and there was no excuse for any of this, he was a failure as boyfriend and friend and brother and a son, and a man, and why couldn’t he have just never woken up?
The curtain opened with a faint rustle of fabric.
“--Alright boys, I gave Hannah and Victoria the update, they’ll text me when the fam--” Izzy cut herself off, her eyes fixing on Archie instantly. “Thank God, you’re awake!”
Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, her face was red and blotchy from crying, and she was wearing her comfort clothes: her Cambridge sweatpants and, from underneath a blue zip-up hoodie, the edges of the grey “I want to be a schwa; it’s never stressed” t-shirt he got her for Christmas five years ago peeked out.
His breath started to hitch as the world began to spin. “Fuck, Iz, I -- I’m s -so sorry, I didn’t--”
Izzy’s hands were on his shoulders in an instant. “No. Don’t you dare apologise. No feeling guilty, either.”
“Izzy’s right, Archie,” Horatio said, leaning forward to run a hand along his back with slow, gentle pressure. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“How can you say that?” Archie gasped out as his lungs started to tighten. “I hurt you, Horatio!”
Horatio frowned. “No, you didn’t. You never have and you never would.”
“Yes I did! I’m the reason your arm is broken!”
“Simpson did that. Not you,” Will said calmly.
“And he’s in prison now,” Izzy said, squeezing his shoulder. “Hannah saw them take him away in a police car. He can’t hurt either of you any more. It’s over. You’re safe now.”
“And it’s just a broken arm,” Horatio said. “It’ll mend.”
“But you could have died! And it’s my fault!”
Horatio frowned. “But I didn’t. And none of this was your fault, Archie.”
“Of course it is. He was only after you because of me. You should be furious!”
“Archie, the only person I’m angry at is Simpson.” He scowled. “I just wish I’d punched him harder.”
Archie sat bolt upright, pulling away from everyone, as the world swam. “You PUNCHED him??”
Horatio’s eyes went wide with horror. “Oh, God, Archie, I’m sorry, I know I’d promised I wouldn’t, but I forgot, and then I couldn’t get away, and--”
Archie’s pulse started racing. “I don’t believe this.”
“Archie, I am so sorry, I know I violated your trust, and I have no excuse, I just-”
Archie smacked his fist into the bed by his side. “You fought back. Of course you fought back. Fucking hell, Horatio, how can you stand to look at me?”
“Archie, no,” Izzy blurted out. “Don’t ever blame yourself for what he did to you!”
“Izzy’s right. And no one thinks any less of you,” Will said quietly.
“Archie,” Horatio said quietly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder again, “I love you. And all the Simpsons in the world couldn’t change that.”
Archie swallowed and looked away, blinking back tears. “But you shouldn’t.”
Horatio frowned. “Why not?”
Archie shook his head, the words stuck in his throat.
“Archie, what is it?” Horatio asked, his voice impossibly gentle.
“I’m - I’m not worth this, Horatio,” Archie managed, his voice cracking.
Horatio squeezed him tightly. “Yes, you are. You are worth it, and my arm, and any other price imaginable. What happened today changed nothing. I want to be with you, and I always will. I promise.”
Archie sniffed and blinked repeatedly to force back the tears that had started to form.
“Archie . . . please believe me?” Horatio asked, his voice barely audible.
Archie turned to look at him. His eyes were wide and suspiciously wet, but contained all the conviction of his words.
Archie swallowed as his pulse started to slow. He managed a short nod, not trusting himself to speak.
A glimmer of a smile flitted over Horatio’s lips and he squeezed Archie’s hand again. “Thank you.” He paused. “And whatever the future holds, we can figure it out, together.”
Archie froze, his heart suddenly racing again. “Oh, fuck, the police report.”
“It’ll keep,” Will said quietly. “For now, just focus on resting.” He paused. “That goes for you, too, Horatio.”
Horatio set his jaw. “I’m fine, Will.”
Will crossed his arms over his chest. “A deal’s a deal.”
Horatio scowled.
Archie narrowed his eyes. “Will?” he asked slowly.
Will looked pointedly at Horatio. “Nurse Rashidi agreed to bring your beds together if Horatio promised to rest.”
Horatio rolled his eyes. “I am resting.”
Will narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what she meant.”
Archie blinked. “You asked them to move our beds?”
Horatio ducked his head. “Er . . . well, I was on your right at first, and I couldn’t hold your hand while on that side, so I . . . er . . . asked her to swap our positions.”
Archie raised an eyebrow. “And is that why I’m in the surgical ward, too?”
Horatio shook his head. “That was Will. I was unconscious at the time.”
Will shrugged and stared at a spot near Archie’s feet as the tips of his ears went slightly pink. “Thought it’d be best not to separate you two. The ward’s fairly empty today, so Nurse Rashidi didn’t mind.”
Will had helped, despite the embarrassing display he’d witnessed? Despite what he knew about Simpson? Despite his own feelings for Horatio?
Archie felt a rush of warmth course through him. He shifted to tap his foot against Will’s hand, and Will glanced up.
Archie took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering. “Thanks,” he murmured.
Will nodded, a short, jerking motion, and gave him a faint, tilted smile.
Archie felt himself smile back as some of the pressure in his chest began to lift.
Izzy looked from Archie, to Will, and back, then tilted her head, her eyes sparkling. Archie forced himself not to roll her eyes. She must have figured out Will’s feelings for Horatio. Time to distract her before she said something that would call attention to it.
“So, you three seem to have been already introduced. When did you get into town, Iz?” he asked.
Izzy raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “About an hour ago, I think.”
Archie narrowed his eyes. “How did you get here that quickly?”
Izzy bit her lip. “I . . . er . . . had already packed a suitcase and was trying to decide if I should visit my friend Emily in London for the night, just in case you changed your mind, when the hospital called.”
Archie groaned. “Iz--”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t about to show up on your doorstep. I just figured I should be close by. You--” she hesitated, “--you sounded terrible. Of course I was worried. And, turns out, I was right to be. You were unresponsive for five whole minutes, Archie. Do you know how dangerous that is? We thought you were dying!”
Archie cringed. “Oh.” He swallowed. “Um.” He cleared his throat. “Fuck.” He glanced over at Horatio, who looked on the verge of tears again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.”
Horatio blinked repeatedly. “You told me you were alright, Archie,” he whispered, his voice wobbling.
Archie swallowed and looked down at the thin sheet that covered him. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
Horatio held him more tightly. “Archie, you are allowed to worry me, even if I’m stressed or in pain. From what I’ve read, that’s how relationships work.”
Archie frowned. “But--”
Horatio shook his head. “If you’re sick, or scared, or not eating, or God forbid, in danger, I need you to tell me. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. And I--” he swallowed, “--I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
Archie tried to blink back tears of his own. “You’re not going to lose me. I’ll make sure of that. And I-- I’m sorry. About not telling you. I’m . . . a bit out of practice with that sort of thing. Got rather used to hiding it.” He shook his head to dispel the memories that threatened to crowd in. “But I promise to -- to try to tell you. I just might need some--” he swallowed and cleared his throat, “--some . . . help . . . with that.”
Horatio nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need. Always.”
“But, um, speaking of talking to people--” Izzy began, “--there’s one more thing.”
Archie sat up straight, dislodging Horatio’s arm from around his shoulders. “What is it?”
Izzy scooted forward, took his hands, and gave them a gentle, supportive squeeze. “Archie? I’m so sorry, but the family’s coming.”
Archie stilled. “What?”
“I know. But you were unresponsive and in hospital. Of course they’re coming.”
Archie slumped back against his pillow. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What did you tell them?”
“I said that Horatio’d broken his arm and you’d collapsed from dehydration, low blood sugar, and lack of sleep. I didn’t break my promise.”
Archie sighed. “But they have questions?”
Izzy nodded. “I told them they’d have to wait.”
Archie snorted. “I bet they loved that.”
Izzy chuckled quietly. “Not Dad’s favorite response, no.”
Archie rolled his eyes. “Or Alastair’s.” He groaned. “Fucking hell, Iz, this is going to be a disaster.”
Izzy squeezed his hands. “No, it’s not. I’ve got this covered. I told them you’ve had a shock and they need to back off and wait for you to talk until you’re ready. If anyone tries to push you, I will give them hell. Will and Horatio will, too. This is about you and what you need. You get to dictate terms.”
He swallowed, then nodded. He couldn’t stomach another explanation today. Not after everything. But, if they could wait until tomorrow . . . “How much time do we have?”
She bit her lip again, then glanced at her watch. “Ten minutes, give or take. Their plane touched down forty-five minutes ago. I gave Hannah a description of them, and she’ll text when they arrive.”
He took a deep, shaky breath, then let go of Izzy’s hands and let his own fall on the bed beside him. “Right.”
Izzy frowned. “I can stall them--”
Archie huffed out a laugh. “--for all of thirty seconds before they push past you.”
Izzy shrugged. “I can still try.”
Archie shook his head. “Wouldn’t do any good. Might as well get it over with.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and tried to calm down. “Well,” he said, turning to Horatio, “looks like you’ll get to meet the rest of the family sooner than you’d thought.”
Horatio’s pale face took on a greenish tinge. “Oh. G-good.”
Archie took Horatio’s hand in both of his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’ll love you.”
Izzy nodded. “This one clearly does--” she said, reaching over to ruffle Archie’s hair. Archie rolled his eyes and batted her hand away half-heartedly, “--and as far as I’m concerned, you’re a member of the family already, so that’s two out of two so far. Fairly solid average, all things considered.”
“And if it’s any consolation,” Archie said, forcing himself to attempt a smile, for Horatio’s sake, “at least it’ll take the pressure off the visit to Scotland later this summer.” Assuming the family won’t disown me for being a disgraceful coward, who--
Izzy’s phone dinged. She pulled it out, then bit his lip. “Shit. It’s Hannah. They’re here. Um, I’ll go stall them as long as I can. I’ll . . . suggest lunch or something. And it’s going to be alright, Archie. You can do this. You’re stronger and braver than you think. And we’ve got your back. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Will and your ridiculously cute boyfriend. Well done, by the way. See you in a bit.” And with that, she hopped off the bed and bolted out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the ward until the door closed behind her.
“So, that’s Izzy,” Archie said into the silence.
“So we gathered,” Will said, with a dry, tilted smile. “Bit of a family resemblance.”
Archie huffed out a laugh, then glanced toward the curtain. He had to distract himself from the fact that they’d all be stampeding into their small room in a matter of minutes, or he’d shake out of his skin. “Speaking of families, where’s Horatio’s father?” he asked as his throat tightened.
Will frowned. “He texted to say he got caught up with a work emergency. He should be here in a few hours.”
Archie nodded as the pressure in his chest started to build again. “That’s g-good.” He swallowed and tried to keep his hands from trembling. It didn’t work.
“Archie? Are you alright?” Horatio asked instantly.
“I’m fine,” Archie said automatically.
Horatio’s face fell. “Archie,” he sighed.
Oh. Right. He’d promised to try to be honest about his physical and mental state. Fuck.
He took a deep breath and braced himself. “Fine. I’m fucking terrified. And I don’t know what the hell I’m going to say. Better?”
“There’s nothing wrong being being scared,” Will said. He hesitated, then reached out and patted Archie’s shin.
“You’ll figure it out,” Horatio said quietly. “I know you can do this, Archie. And we’ll be right by your side the whole time.”
Archie nodded, closed his eyes, and focused on breathing, and on the warm, steady presence of Horatio and Will beside him.
“Where is he?” A loud voice boomed, echoing through the corridors. “Where’s my son?”
Archie’s breath began to hitch.
“If you’ll just follow me, sir,” Nurse Rashidi’s voice rang out. “He’s right over here, at the far end of the ward. But you can’t stay for long; he needs rest, not excitement, and we’re bending the rules enough as it is, letting all of you in here.”
“Nonsense. I don’t need permission to see my own son.”
“Reginald,” his mum’s voice sounded with a quiet warning note.
“Actually, in my ward, you do,” Nurse Rashidi responded. “It doesn’t matter who you are. If your presence is in any way going to adversely affect my patient’s health, it is my job to ask you to leave.”
“How dare--”
“Of course. Thank you, Nurse Rashidi. We understand and we wouldn’t want to do anything that would interfere with Archie’s recovery. Would we, Reginald?”
“No. Of course not, Fiona,” he grumbled.
Archie glanced over at Horatio, who had frozen in terror, his eyes wide and unblinking. He had just enough time to give Horatio’s hand a quick squeeze before Nurse Rashidi pulled back the curtain to reveal the whole crew: his father, in the lead, his eyes flashing with command and no small degree of concern, his mum, by his side, looking as outwardly poised as ever despite the red eyes and nose that showed how she’d spent most of the flight, Izzy, slipping in behind Nurse Rashidi to stand by Archie’s right, and Alastair, bringing up the rear, looking vaguely uncomfortable and irritable and doing a piss poor job of hiding both.
“Hello,” Archie said at last, forcing himself not to cringe with embarrassment at being the center of a production he didn’t want to star in.
“Archie, love. It’s good to see you,” his mum said, walking over to give him a gentle hug.
“Son,” his father intoned, approaching the bed to give him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Glad to see you’re awake.”
“Hello, Dad.”
“Archie,” Alastair nodded in greeting.
“Alastair,” Archie responded, concluding the most uncomfortable family greeting he’d ever experienced.
“Good to see you awake, Archie. How are you feeling?” Nurse Rashidi asked, glancing at his vitals on the monitor.
“A bit better,” Archie said, desperately hoping the heart monitor didn’t give away just how scared he was.
“Good,” Nurse Rashidi said. “You should be able to go home in a few hours, once we’ve pumped some more Dextrose into you. Is there anything I can get you?”
Archie shook his head.
“Well, if you need anything, including some peace and quiet, just press this button and I’ll be right back. You too, Horatio.”
They both nodded.
“Right. I’ll leave you to it, then.” She gave them a quick smile and nod, then left, pulling the curtain shut behind her.
Archie glanced around. Izzy, his mum, and his father were on his right, and Alastair and Will were at the foot of the bed. He was surrounded. He swallowed as his throat went suddenly dry.
“You must be Horatio,” his mum started. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”
“P-pleasure to meet you, too,” Horatio managed, his hand trembling slightly.
Archie gave it gentle squeeze.
His father glanced at their interlaced fingers and pointedly raised a eyebrow.
Archie cleared his throat, his eyelids fluttering. “Right. Introductions. So, this is my boyfriend, Horatio, and this is our friend, Will. Horatio, Will, this is my mum, my dad, and Alastair, and of course you’ve already met Izzy.”
Will dipped his head.
“Have they taken good enough care of you here, Archie?” his father asked. “We could have had you transferred to a private hospital, with a room of your own, instead of this ward.” Somehow, he’d managed to make the word “ward” sound like an insult.
Archie felt his muscles start to tense and tried to cover it with a smile. “It’s fine here, no complaints. Nurse Rashidi’s been wonderful. She let me stay in the surgical ward and she rearranged the beds so Horatio and I could be together. So, you see? Excellent care. Flexible and compassionate.”
His father nodded. “Good. I’d accept nothing less.”
Archie smiled through his clenching teeth. “And I thought there were only two visitors allowed in at a time.”
“I convinced them to bend the rules,” his father said.
“By pledging a sizable donation to the surgical ward,” Alistair explained, crossing his arms over his chest.
Archie’s pulse began to race as he turned to glare at his father. “You did what?”
“I’m sure the future patients of this ward will be grateful,” his mum added, giving Archie a look that begged him to stop before this could turn into a continuation of an age old argument. His father was already starting to bristle.
“I’m glad you were allowed in,” Archie said, swallowing his pride as best he could. “Didn’t mean to cause yet more trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” his father insisted.
“Is there anything we can get you?” his mum asked. “Water? Something to eat, perhaps?”
Archie’s stomach lurched. He shook his head. “Maybe in a bit.”
Alastair rolled his eyes. “Of course not. Why actually fix the problem when you can be the center of attention instead?” he grumbled.
Archie’s heart started pounding.
Horatio went rigid against him, his jaw set and nostrils flaring. Will fixed Alastair with a particularly flinty stare.
“Alastair, that was uncalled for. You owe him an apology,” their mum said calmly.
“But eating’s not exactly difficult, and he has the funds to feed himself and a solid head on his shoulders. So what other explanation could there be? He couldn’t be bothered? Some sort of narcissistic acting thing?”
Archie swallowed as his lungs stopped working altogether.
“Alastair, what the fuck? Take that back now,” Izzy yelled.
“Narcissistic?!” Horatio snapped, clutching Archie’s hand with almost painful tightness.
Will stood up slowly and turned to face Alastair. “Archie, should we be letting you and Horatio get some sleep? We can all come back another time,” he said, his voice steely and cold.
Archie’s heart monitor started to beep.
Alastair’s eyes widened as he glanced at the screen. He looked back at Archie and the color drained from his face. “Arch? What’s going on?”
“Archie?” Horatio’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and held him tightly. “Are you alright?”
Archie managed a nod, then closed his eyes and tried to make his lungs cooperate. He focused on the steady, weight of Horatio’s arm, as grounding as any compass. On Will and Izzy closing ranks around him.
The heart monitor stopped beeping.
He swallowed, took a slow, shaking breath, then opened his eyes. “Last November. It wasn’t an accident. Simpson did it deliberately. He’d been stalking me and--” he took another deep breath “--and raping me since my second semester at RADA, despite my attempts to report him. And today, Simpson showed up at my flat, attacked Horatio, and broke his arm so badly that he needed emergency surgery. And now, Simpson’s in prison. So, it’s a tad more complicated than ‘couldn’t be bothered.’”
Horatio held him more tightly. Izzy put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Will gave him a faint, tilted smile and a slow nod.
Alastair was staring at him, his eyes wide. “What? Arch, I . . . I didn’t know . . . I swear. Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” He glanced around the room, then turned to look at their father. “How could you not tell me?”
“We didn’t know either,” his father said quietly.
“What?” Alastair looked back at Archie, his forehead creased with confusion and concern. “Arch, why didn’t you say something? We have the resources to make people listen. You’ve been dealing with this since second semester? That’s, what, a year and a half? How could--”
He trailed off, his eyes widening, then sank down in the chair Will had vacated. “A year and a half,” he said quietly, staring at the ground. “Oh. Oh, God. Arch--” he swallowed, then looked up and met Archie’s eyes, his own starting to fill with tears, “-Arch, I am so sorry.”
Archie managed a nod, his throat too tight for words. So much for breaking it to them gently.
“Oh, Archie, dear,” his mum said, her voice shaking as much as it had the night she’d told him Alastair’s diagnosis, “it’s not your job to try to protect us. We could have handled both. You are just as important.”
Archie blinked repeatedly, trying to force his tears back, and she had him in her arms in seconds.
“I love you so much,” she whispered.
A shallow nod was all he could muster as he hugged back.
When she let go, and Izzy took her place. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, and ruffled his hair as she pulled away.
He swallowed, then wrenched his eyes up to meet his father’s. He looked ten years older and shattered, as though someone had turned his heart into a jigsaw puzzle and tried to put the pieces back together in the dark.
“I’m sorry,” Archie said, his voice breaking.
His father’s arms were around him in an instant. “Why? You have nothing to apologize for.”
“But I let you down. I wasn’t strong enough,” he whispered.
His father sighed and shook his head. “My darling, darling boy, there’s nothing you could do to make me disappointed in you. You’ve always made me so very proud.”
Archie swallowed hard as he blinked back tears.
“I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy,” his father whispered, holding him tightly as though he were the last living thing in the universe. “And I’m more sorry than I can say that I made you think otherwise.”
Archie buried his face against his shoulder and curled into the hug as tears trickled down his cheek, creating a damp patch on his father’s shirt. He took a slow, shaky breath as the pressure in his chest began to lift.
After several moments, his father sniffed, gave Archie one last, tight hug, then straightened up, surreptitiously wiping his eyes. He cleared his throat. “With your permission, Archibald, I think we should contact Tamsin. Her legal expertise may be particularly beneficial.”
Horatio took Archie’s hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Archie swallowed, took another deep breath, and nodded. “I can call her tomorrow morning, before I make my police statement.”
His father nodded. “Of course. Take whatever time you need.” He paused, then glanced over at Alastair, who still looked haunted and vaguely ill. He frowned, hesitated, then cleared his throat again. “Er, Isabelle had mentioned that there’s a sort of small cafeteria here. Alastair and I didn’t have a chance to eat before catching our flight. I think rectifying that is an excellent plan. Alastair?”
Alastair glanced up, blinked a few times, shook his head to focus, then nodded and stood, waiting in the gap in the curtain and staring down at the ground, his nose scrunched up the way it had as a child when he was trying not to cry.
His father patted Archie on the shoulder one more time, then took a step toward the entrance, before pausing and turning to face the bed. He cleared his throat. “And, er, Horatio?”
Horatio’s eyes went wide as he snapped his head up to attention. “Y-yes, my Lord?”
“Thank you for looking out for my son,” he said, before looking toward Alastair again. “We’ll be back shortly.” He walked to the entrance, put a hand on Alastair’s back, and gently guided him out of the enclosure.
After a moment, Will glanced back to the bed, pushed the chair a tad closer, and sat down again. He hesitated, leaned forward to give Archie’s leg a quick, supportive pat, then leaned back in his seat again.
The touch helped dampen the lingering static in Archie’s mind. He took a deep breath and let his eyes fall shut, relishing the silence and the extra space in the room. His head felt absurdly heavy.
“You alright?” Horatio whispered, accompanying the question with a squeeze of his hand.
Archie nodded. “Just going to close my eyes for a bit.”
“Good idea,” Horatio responded. There was a brief pause, then Horatio released his hand to push back a bit of fringe, letting his fingers linger on his forehead.
Archie made a quiet, pleased humming sound, and rolled onto his left side to press against Horatio’s hand. Horatio’s fingers hesitated, then began gently carding his hair.
Archie managed a faint smile as a little of the tension of the last several years started to bleed out.
“So, Horatio,” Izzy began in a hushed voice, and Archie could hear the smile that danced underneath it, “Archie tells me you’re obsessed with naval history. What’s your favorite ship?”
Archie didn’t need to see to know that Horatio’s eyebrows jumped up, eyes going wide with surprise, before a hesitant but pleased smile took over his lips. “Well, the Indefatigable, or Indy, has always seemed particularly interesting to me. You see--”
Archie let the words fade into comforting noises. Horatio was in good hands with Izzy. He could rest for awhile.