A/N: This is another one of my monologues, this time a Horatio POV, taking place at the end of 'Retribution'. Some major spoilers and a not too happy ending, I'm afraid. None-the-less, I hope you enjoy this. All feedback, good and bad, is most welcome.

MEMORIES By Lizard

He lays there, lifeless as a rag-doll. But he is not lifeless - I can see the last remnants of energy still glowing in his eyes as he looks at me. Those clear blue eyes, open, unashamed to expose his soul. To me. I touch his hand - cold, smooth skin - remember those times. Not cold skin then, but hot, slick, groping fingers, fluttering eyelids, half-open lips, *Archie*, *Horatio*...then afterwards, a sweet serenity on his face tells me he is happy. I still do not doubt that it hurt - such a gift he has given to me, despite all the memories he must have of Simpson and...

And now, this gift. He looks at me, he smiles that glorious, sunny smile. Seeking approval, seeking acceptance. How can I accept this? Without him, my life is hollow. No form, no secret happiness. I feel bereft - floating on a boat with no helm, no firm direction. I want to reach out and heal it. This ugly wound of his, sweep away the pain, sweep away everything so that we are back on the Indy - side-by-side, looking at each other in that secret, joyous way we have, always knowing that we will be together whatever the situation.

What have you done, Archie? Has it come to this? Being forced apart by the insane misconceptions of a madman. After all we have gone through - it ends in this sordid manner. Well, in what manner did you think it would end? I do not know, I just never imagined...

I look at him. I know he is dying. That if he wasn't dying he would be put to death. And I feel...betrayed. This was not part of the plan - if anyone were to die, it would be me, or both of us together, at least. But he seems so happy - as though he has fulfilled his own agenda. Leaving me behind to fend for myself in this dark world. Who will comfort me now? Who will I seek when all I want to do is curl up and weep like a babe? I have no freedom now - his spirit will leave me and I will be locked inside this cage I call life.

No more of those golden times, when he would run his fingers through my hair and whisper those forbidden words. And we would glory in it. Rejoice in our discovery of each other - a perfect match, you and I. Now I will lose you - there was no need of sacrifice, Archie! There was no...no...

No, I have to acknowledge the truth - if one of us had not died, then this situation would never have been resolved. That he is willing to take this sordid accusation with him to the grave shows his courage; true friendship; innocent love; a loyalty beyond any I have ever witnessed.

One last look at his beloved face - say it, say it. I...I...

"I am honoured to have served with you."

His face shows understanding. Our feelings for each other are too sacred to be termed as mere 'love'. I feel disappointed at my lack of resolve - but he knows. Knows that if there were any way I could alleviate his pain, I would do it. Memories of our first meeting sweep across my eyes. The shock I felt when I looked into his clear, unassuming eyes and experienced the warm glow of friendship. That first kiss...our first time together, the bewildered expression on his face when he came. Him crying in my arms when a nightmare or a fit wracks him. Looking at each other in our secret way across a dinner table, or over a comrade's shoulder; the sparkle in his eyes when we jumped off the cliff...

His lips move for the last time. I want to tell him to have some rest, but his eyes mist over in pain, squeezed shut. Clenching his fists to fight death, or embrace it perhaps. One last choked sound and...gone.

I am unable to cry, for I know that this is what he wanted. I will not desecrate his sacrifice with meaningless words of grief.

"My dear friend." My only true friend. Dearest to my heart and irreplaceable. Now all I have left are ephemeral images of you that will come to me in the night. Beautiful, untainted memories that I will treasure. Archie Kennedy. My dear friend. Goodbye.

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