"I…bloody love you, Osborne…"

No one knew quite exactly happened in Stanhope's mind, but there was one thing for certain. The events directly prior had caused a lot of trouble in the soldier's life…

It wasn't long after that idiot of a colonel sent Stanhope's men out to do a raid of the enemy camp. Most of the men died, including poor young Raleigh. It in and of itself quite shook the captain, who had been a childhood friend of the officer-for-three-days.

But he didn't have his little breakdown until after the fact. It was when he and some of the other officers were going on leave. Osborne had survived the raid and convinced Stanhope that he desperately had to get out of the front line, or his liver would implode from all the whiskey. Stanhope protested, saying how he was needed and how he didn't want to face his fiancée Madge, but the elder officer managed to convince him after God knows how many hours of arguing.

Stanhope and Osborne traveled together, leaving Hibbert and Trotter with the men. Stanhope was honestly horrified at the idea of leaving just those two, but it was too late for him to back out of it as the two men started gliding over the English countryside in a military-filled train.

"Seriously," Stanhope muttered, "why did you want me to go see the Raleigh's again?"

"Because you're engaged to their daughter," Osborne said, and then added with a smile, "and you really a break. My god, man, you look worse than half the men in the entire army balled into one."

"Really? Because I feel like the misery of them all," Stanhope merely said in reply, and Osborne rolled his eyes. Good old Osborne. The only one around who could handle their pessimistic leader.

And how Stanhope wanted him to handle him…

Stanhope shook his head. No. No, he would not think of such things. And yet…

A long, painful train ride full of fantasies Stanhope felt guilty for having later, they had finally arrived in Lyndhurst, and it was time for the walk to Allum Green. In order to keep Stanhope from running back to war, Osborne insisted on coming with him to meet dear Madge. Bah. Like he really wanted that extra pressure.

The walk seemed to take an eternity longer than the eternal train ride. Every moment Stanhope felt the dread build up inside of him, wondering how Madge would respond to the blasted funk that he had become in the war. No way that she would want to marry him now.

And…even if she did want to marry him now, he wasn't sure if he really felt that way anymore.

Nonetheless, it would be nice to have a home and a wife to come home to every day, he supposed. The other men, the married men, they seemed happy about having theirs.

Either way, a pledge was a pledge. Stanhope had no option but to go with it. He was sure she kept her part of the deal; it was time for him to keep his part.

"This is the address you said, sir?" Osborne said, snapping Stanhope out of his contemplation. Sure enough, the Raleigh house was before him, exactly as he remembered it. The warm red brick, the brown door with the summery wreath, the little rocky trail he had been semiconsciously walking up…

"Yes," he said, growing pale and knocking on the door.

It opened quietly to reveal a young woman on the other side. She had blonde curls pouring to her shoulders, a shapely figure, and huge green eyes that sparkled with happiness.

"Hello, how may I hel—" The emeralds reflected horror as she looked at Stanhope standing there. He opened his arms and smiled.

"Madge, darling, I'm home," he said in a flamboyant, uncharacteristic voice that made Osborne struggle to keep from laughing.

"Dennis," the girl whispered, tensing and taking a step back. "Why are you here?"

Stanhope frowned. "Is this a bad time?" he asked.

"Yes…yes it is," Madge said. She hesitated a moment, the lightly grabbed Stanhope's wrist, tugging at it. "You ought to come inside. We must talk."

The two men followed the girl inside to a lovely blue parlor where tea was already set out. The girl ran off for a moment, returning with extra teacups, and placed them on the table. She glanced at Osborne for the first time.

"One for you, and one for…who is this, Dennis?"

Osborne bowed slightly and kissed her hand. "I am Officer Osborne of Captain Stanhope's company, Miss Raleigh," he said politely, sitting in a lilac wicker chair and pouring some tea. "I am delighted to meet the Captain's fiancée, at last."

Madge laughed and sat awkwardly by a half-full teacup and motioned for Stanhope to sit with one hand. The other fingered a piece of paper sitting on the table. She noticed Stanhope was looking at it and lowered her head slightly.

"This…they just sent it. About…how my brother…about his fate."

"I'm frightfully sorry," Stanhope said, leaning forward to pat her hand, but she pulled it away. "Is this why it was a bad time?"

"Actually, no," Madge said, looking away and biting her lip. "It's…Dennis…dear Dennis…"

"Yes?"

She sighed. "I cannot lie to you Dennis. It's been a long time. Too long. I got…lonely." She paused, and after a moment Stanhope's face fell as he came to the realization of what she was saying.

"You mean you…"

"Yes. And, it's more than just…that. I'm pregnant, Dennis." She was silent and looked straight into Stanhope's eyes. As he opened his mouth to say something, she said, "I've decided. I'm marrying the father of my child. Not you, Dennis." She looked away again, and Stanhope merely mouthed silent words.

Osborne cursed himself. He shouldn't have brought Stanhope to this…it was all his fault, in a way. Stanhope would hate him after this, he was sure of it. There would be no living with the man, though he could honestly understand it. After all, he brought the Captain to have a slap in the face from the woman he loved.

Stanhope got up suddenly and turned away, walking towards the kitchen. Madge followed him with forlorn eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dennis, I…"

"Where's the bloody whiskey, Madge? I can't drink tea after this." He started to rummage through cabinets, returning with bottles in both hands. "Never mind," he said, a strange mixture of a smile and a scowl on his face, "I found it myself. And rum. Thank God for that."

He sat down again at the table, filling a teacup with whiskey and downing it quickly, following it with another cup full of rum. Osborne's eyes widened only slightly, not surprised by Stanhope's drinking anymore.

"Sir, you realize it's not good to mix your drinks so much…and in that quantity," he said as Stanhope poured another cup. Stanhope grinned at him, a man gone mad.

"Oh, dear dear dear dear old Uncle," he said, "I am but celebrating!" He stood, teacup in hand. "To Madge and her love, may they live long, happy lives, God willing!" He jerked his head back, draining the cup in one gulp.

Madge looked at him, utterly horrified. She had never seen Stanhope like this before, and the sight was too much for her to bare. Though he'd been in her house such a short time, she already stood up and motioned towards the door.

"Stanhope," she said, dropping first-name terms, "I'd like you to leave now."

Stanhope rolled his eyes. "Very well, Raleigh dear. I'll leave once I finish my…" He drank another cup and before he could finish his sentence, he was passed out on the ground.

~*~

"Good Lord, I've never seen you drink so fast," Osborne said.

Stanhope had just woken up in their hotel room. He was lying on the one bed in the room, still very drunk, with a goofy grin on his face.

"Oh, bloody hell, Uncle, I've never drunk so much for I never had so much to celebrate!" he said, laughing. Osborne raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever do you mean, Stanhope?"

Stanhope laughed, sitting himself up and looking at Osborne through half-lidded eyes. "Because my dear old Madge has found happiness," he said, "and because I have no longer a cause to keep from feeding my urges." He licked his lips.

"I don't unde…"

"Oh, Uncle Uncle Uncle, it's ever so simple," Stanhope said, reaching out and placing a hand on Osborne's shoulder, "I was living a bloody lie, and now my lie went and got knocked up. No need for me to lie anymore about who I really want."

Osborne looked away uncomfortably. "You're very drunk, Stanhope."

"Osborne," Stanhope moaned quietly, "I have no reason to want…her. She's not what I want. I want…oh, you know what I want."

Osborne pulled away, causing the drunken Stanhope to fall back on the bed. He whimpered.

"I…bloody love you, Osborne…" Stanhope said.

"That's nice, Stanhope," Osborne said gently. "I think you need to sleep now."

"Come to bed," Stanhope purred.

"Not in the state you're in," Osborne said with a smile. Stanhope frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You're quite mental at the moment."

"Oh, but you want me too!" Stanhope said with a pout. "I know it. You were always so…so close to me back on the front, you cared for me as much as a lover should, and…hell, you bought us a room with one bed, man!"

"It was what was available." Osborne shrugged.

"You can't deny you care about me, Osborne," Stanhope mewled.

"I do. Like one cares for a friend. Maybe even like one cares for a family." The man spoke softly, like one does to a child. "But frankly, Stanhope, I am not interested in your drunken homosexual propositions. I'm sure in the morning you'll be your normal self as well, and we can continue with our normal lives. One day, you and the girl you eventually marry should visit my wife and me, and we'll forget this ever happened."

The look on Stanhope's face was utterly indescribable. He looked completely crushed at that moment, like his heart had been poured out and then ripped to shreds.

Silently he nodded, fell back into the bed, and pulled a cover over him.

"Goodnight, Stephen," he muttered into his pillow.

Osborne settled into a chair. "Goodnight, Dennis."

A single tear rolled down Stanhope's cheek.

~*~

Morning.

Osborne's eyes opened slowly to light streaming in through the window. He yawned, cracked his back, and smiled.

"All better, Stanhope?" he asked, looking towards the bed.

It was empty.

Panicked, Osborne jumped out of his chair. Good Lord, where could he have gone…in that state…

He then noticed the light on in the bathroom, shining through a crack. Slowly he walked towards the door and knocked.

"Stanhope? Good morning. Hung over?" he asked cheerily. There was no reply.

Osborne gently pushed the door open, hoping he didn't see the worst.

He saw something certainly different from what one would expect walking in on their friend in the bathroom.

A straight razor lie near the base of the sink, bloodied horribly. Stanhope himself lay on the floor, looking battered and broken. His body was still, and red pooled around his arms. His skin was even paler, almost pure white, and a look of utter sorrow was on his face, beautiful and eternally young.

Scrawled on the mirror in smears of blood there was a message:

"I really meant it when I said I loved you."
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Author's Note:

Yay, I gave Osborne a name…if he did have a first name and I overlooked it, please tell me. ^^

Before anyone who HAS read complains, I know this is not the events in the story, and that the deaths happened differently. But one of my dear friends requested it, and so I quote:

"i wan stanhope to be really gay and it would hav bin funy but his poor girlfriend, i wana know more bout her.....she should get pregnant wil another gy and Stany goes home and it drives him mad, he drinks more (if thats poss) and he kills himself after confessin his love to Ozzy who doesn't die. instead Raleigh does. That should be wat happens. and ozzy says soz mate, i did lot for u in war but it meant nothin and so Stany kils himself and Ozzy goes bak to finish his rockery!"

I think she was drunk.

My poor Raleigh-kins…(I am a StanhopexRaleigh fangirl X3)

Anyways, this is my lovely little fic! Hope you love it Bethan!

A little more sad than you made it sound…and didn't include the rockery bit but…yeah.

Originally posted at .com/art/But-I-Loved-You-69170985