A/N: I hate angst, and I hate myself for writing angst.
Maybe
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Horatio glumly walked out of the prison infirmary, his thoughts torn between pride over his new command and grief over his beloved Archie. So drowned in his turmoil was he that he did not hear his name being called out at first. "Mr. Hornblower!" The gruff voice repeated. Horatio turned and saw William Bush taking halting, pained steps towards him. Horatio's face pulled back into a brief smile at the sight of his friend. Deep among his other emotions was relief that he at least did not lose everyone.
"Mr. Bush," Horatio smiled again, and provided the injured man an arm to lean on, "feeling better?"
"A little better. Still hurts though," he said with a grimace.
"Well," Horatio said brightly, "it'll heal soon enough and you can tell your grandchildren the story of how you received the scar."
William laughed than cringed. Even that slight movement of his abdomen was painful. "And what about you?" Horatio pretended not to understand the question. "I know how much he meant to you."
"Do you," Horatio said, not looking at him.
"And believe me," William continued in earnest, "there wasn't a moment while we were locked up in there I wished I could have given whatever life was granted to me was given to him."
"What good would that have done?!" Horatio stalked away bitterly. The sudden absence of support caused William to slightly stumble.
"Horatio!" he called after him. Horatio stopped, but did not turn. "I know I did not love him as you did, nor even knew him as you did, but he was a friend. He knew the risk, we all did."
Angry now, Horatio spun, causing a slight cloud of dirt to form behind him as he approached William again. "That's what I keep telling myself, what Pellew tried to tell me. It doesn't matter, it doesn't help." He held up the papers Pellew had given him. "This command was paid for with his blood and the soiling of his good name."
"And what would have preferred," William spoke with equal venom, "to have yourself hanging from the gallows? Or me? Or Buckland? Would you rather have it be all four of us? Why don't we go fish for young Wellard's body and make a real display for the price of conspiracy. A conspiracy, I may add, that saved more lives than it lost, and led to victory. Do you think this is what Kennedy would have wanted? he loved you and just like the rest of us, wanted to see you succeed and get the recognition you deserve."
"What about the recognition Archie deserves?" Horatio spat.
"You know the truth, and I know the truth. To hell with the rest of the navy, the rest of England, the rest of the bloody world! All that mattered to him was the people he cared about. So don't go around saying that his sacrifice was useless because it wasn't."
Horatio glared at him, clenching his jaw. The two men stared at each other. After what seemed like hours, Horatio's expression softened ever so slightly. "Maybe," he conceded, "maybe, Mr. Bush, I will agree with you in a month, maybe next week, maybe tomorrow. But not today." He turned and placed the hat he had tucked under his arm onto his head, and walked away.
William sighed and brought a hand up, scratching the back of his head. "Maybe," he repeated.