All right, I am going to blatantly state this right off the bat. I watched Horatio Hornblower purely for Lt. Bush. Have not seen the first four movies at all, only heard about them. Haven't read the books either. (Which means please excuse any errors--technical, historical, language, etc--that you find. I'm terribly lazy about research.) I just have a thing for Paul McGann. (But don't worry; I am loving what I've been seeing in these movies, and probably should have been watching them all along.) So I was desperate to write a piece of fanfic basically from Bush's perspective, and this is what I came up with--a bunch of missing scenes, really (plus the occasional actual scene from the movie), for the end of Retribution. Hopefully I have not just turned anyone away from reading this after all that confessing...
And by the way, I just really need to know: why the devil does Bush have different-colored pants from the other lieutenants? Seriously! It has been driving me crazy since the first time I saw HH2...okay, fine, I'm silly. I'll slip away quietly and let you read the fic in peace now.
Imprisoned Thoughts
"Horatio," Mr Kennedy breathed out, turning his head in his uneasy sleep.
Bush looked over at the other man, raising his head. After a moment, he pushed himself up carefully from the bed, gritting his teeth against the sharp, insistent agony in his torso. He forced himself to stagger over to Archie's bed.
The fourth lieutenant had heard him moving, it seemed, for his eyes were opened and trying to smile up at Bush, despite the glaze of pain in those pale orbs and the sheen of sweat on his face. "Mr Bush," he whispered.
Bush nodded and set himself down on the edge of the bed, wincing. "Mr Kennedy," he answered in a much stronger but still quiet voice.
They stayed silent for a moment but for their breathing. Archie seemed to be trying to hold back a rack of painful coughing. Bush was frowning in thought, remembering.
He'd seen Lt. Kennedy slipping away, back to the fort, and knew instantly what the young man was planning. He couldn't blame Mr Kennedy. He'd been about to do the same thing, orders or no from Mr Buckland.
He quickly caught up with the younger lieutenant. "Going somewhere Mr Kennedy?" he asked quietly.
Archie instantly swung around, pistol at the ready. He lowered it in relief when he saw who it was. "Mr Bush sir!" He became wary again. "Shouldn't you be on the Renown sir?" he asked suspiciously.
Bush almost smiled. Almost. Kennedy would never have known that from his serious, blank face. "I was about to ask you the same question Mr Kennedy."
The fourth lieutenant flushed, though it wasn't very noticeable in the fairly dark tunnel under his already sunburnt skin. "I couldn't leave Mr Hornblower alone," he said stiffly. "And he might need my help." Archie straightened, chin raised. "Well sir?"
This time Bush did smile, just a slight curve of his lips. "Would you care for some company Mr Kennedy?"
Archie stared at him for a moment before an answering smile crept across his face. "Indeed Mr Bush," he inclined his head gracefully.
"Well Mr Bush," Kennedy's breathy voice brought the other lieutenant back to the present. "I trust you feel better?"
Bush nodded. "I'm glad to hear it," the younger man said sincerely. He closed his eyes and sucked in another breath. "I fear I am not so fortunate," he said with a weak, gasping laugh.
Bush's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry for that," he answered, a curious note in his voice.
Kennedy sighed. "It's not your fault."
"Isn't it?" Bush countered mildly. Archie opened his eyes again in surprise. "The Spanish colonel shot you, didn't he? If I had been quicker, if I had fired before he had had the chance, you would not be in this predicament." His voice was soft, hushed but still intense, as it so often became when he was passionate about something. It was a striking contrast to the hoarse roar he used with the men.
Archie laughed again, trying to lighten the situation. "But then you wouldn't have my charming self for a companion as you mend," he pointed out.
Bush didn't smile back. "I am sorry, Mr Kennedy," he said.
Kennedy sighed again, the smile dropping off his face and leaving him looking drained and slightly afraid. "What's done is done, Mr Bush," he said tiredly. "And you did your very best, considering, as I recall, you were lying on the deck in a pool of your own blood." He opened his eyes again to gaze directly up at the other man. "If you hadn't shot him at all, the Renown could very well have fallen to Spanish hands. Other people could have died. I don't blame you, Mr Bush."
Bush nodded. He was remembering slowly but surely coming to a decision that his captain was not in his right mind and seeking out the other lieutenants, who were already in conference with each other; almost drowning before Mr Hornblower pulled him free of the anchor; being about to surrender to the Spanish when Hornblower and Kennedy and the others came blazing in; trying to walk away from a cliff and being grabbed and hauled in between two certain young lieutenants, yelling as he was hurtled into the water with them. He'd grown to respect these two men, already considered them friends. He didn't want to lose one of them already.
He smiled slightly, his turn to cheer things up. "Yes, well," he said, blue eyes twinkling slightly. "I suppose I should thank you for helping me learn to swim." Kennedy smiled at that. "Or perhaps I should have you court-martialed," he added before thinking.
With that, both men quickly sobered again. "How do you suppose it's fairing for Mr Hornblower?" Archie asked, not looking at all hopeful.
"I'm sure he and Mr Buckland will have a fair trial," Mr Bush answered neutrally.
"Perhaps," replied Mr Kennedy sadly. "I'm still worried."
"As am I," Mr Bush admitted with a sigh.
* * *
Mr Hornblower had visited Mr Kennedy a few hours ago, Mr Bush knew. And now Mr Kennedy was restless, turning in his bed fitfully and coughing breathlessly.
"Horatio," he mumbled in his sleep. Bush sat up in his own bed; he had been reading, but now he was watching the other lieutenant worriedly. "Horatio!" This time the name came out almost a shout.
"Archie," Mr Bush called across softly, but in one of his most commanding tones. A bit of a liberty, perhaps, but he didn't think he could bear listening to the other man's agonized dreams anymore. And it certainly wasn't helping Mr Kennedy get any better.
Kennedy woke up with a gasp and stared at the ceiling, breathing shallowly and quickly. After a moment, his breathing eased slightly, and he turned his head to look at Mr Bush. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Bush answered, watching him still in concern.
The younger man turned back to the ceiling. "He's not going to win, Mr Bush," he said, his voice trembling. Bush didn't know if it was from pain or fear or something else.
"You can't know that Mr Kennedy--"
"No, Mr Bush," Archie cut him off. "You must admit that the case does not look good for Mr Hornblower." Bush reluctantly nodded when Archie turned his head again to look at him. Archie nodded in reply and squeezed his eyes shut. He suddenly seemed able to breathe easier, as if he'd just made a decision.
"Then I have to help him," Kennedy said with a strength Bush wouldn't have expected from such an ill man.
Bush pulled back slightly, setting his book aside and frowning. "How?" he asked.
A slight smile flickered on Archie's pinched, sweaty face. "By telling them I pushed the captain into the hold of the ship."
Bush blinked. "And did you?"
"That doesn't matter. What matters is that I will take the blame and Horatio will be free."
The second lieutenant paused, considering his reply before answering. "You know, Mr Kennedy, that this will--"
"Be...damaging...to me?" Kennedy finished for him. "Yes, I know, Mr Bush. Of course I do. But that doesn't matter either. I'm dying."
Bush closed his eyes briefly. "You don't know that either, Mr Kennedy."
"Yes," Archie replied softly, "I do. I am dying, Mr Bush. And the least I can do is save my best friend's life and reputation."
The older man nodded slowly. Yes. He could understand. It was admirable of the younger man. "Lieutenant Kennedy," Bush said, drawing the young man's attention and eyes back to him. "You are a very brave and honorable man."
Archie held his gaze for an instant, then smiled gently. "I'm glad you think of me so highly," he said, "though I'm sure I don't deserve it. It was a pleasure serving with you, Mr Bush."
The other man inclined his head. "And you, Mr Kennedy."
* * *
Bush woke up in time the next morning to see Dr Clive helping Archie get dressed. The doctor had protested Lt. Kennedy's plan the night before, but Archie had been quietly insistent, and Bush had backed him up.
At last Kennedy was ready to leave the room. Bush forced himself to stand up (it was already getting easier) and shook Archie's hand. "Good luck, Mr Kennedy," he said.
The fourth lieutenant smiled, but it couldn't hide his nervousness or the fact that he could barely stand alone, let alone walk. "I don't think I need luck, Mr Bush," he said lightly. "I think I need prayer."
Mr Bush nodded and stepped out of the way, watching Kennedy and Dr Clive leave the building. He sat down on the edge of his bed and picked up his book, forcing himself to read even though he couldn't concentrate on the words.
A few minutes later Mr Hornblower entered the building. Bush glanced up as the other lieutenant entered the room and inwardly winced. Damnation, he sighed to himself and found that he couldn't quite meet Mr Hornblower's eye. He quickly looked down at his book again, half-hoping that if he looked busy or involved in his book, then perhaps the other man wouldn't ask any questions of him.
"Where is he?" Horatio asked the second lieutenant, sounding remarkably cheerful and free from worry for a man who was about to have his future decided that day.
"Oh," Bush floundered, not wishing to tell Hornblower the exact truth, having a good idea how the young man would react, yet not able to lie completely either. "He's uh, he's up and about."
Horatio looked around in incredulous confusion, then shrugged in disappointed resignation. "I was hoping to see him before I was recalled," he confided, resting his face against the bars.
Bush looked up at that, relieved to have found an opening, a way to tell Horatio what Kennedy had done...without telling Horatio. Bush managed to pull himself up from the bed again, though his body protested more insistently this time. "See him you shall," he said. Archie was probably in the courtroom by now, he thought to himself. The thought weighed on his heart.
Horatio seemed to realize what Bush was suggesting, judging by the dawning look of comprehension on his face. And suddenly Bush couldn't look at him again, glancing down at his book's cover again, looking at the wall, surreptitiously catching Hornblower's eye before looking away. He didn't want to tell Hornblower what Kennedy was doing. Kennedy should be the one to do that. It wasn't his place to be doing this.
"Where is he?" Hornblower said, already striding for the door. Now Bush felt a responsibility to explain, to calm the younger man down before he did something foolish. He followed the third lieutenant on the other side of the bars, trying to stop Horatio with words alone. He knew it was futile.
"Now wa-wait, wait, man, wait. Wait. It must be done." Bush wanted to say more, to explain, but Hornblower stopped him.
"No." Horatio pounded against the door, staring at Bush with...horror? "Marine!" he yelled. A marine was instantly at the door, opening it for him. Hornblower kept staring at Bush, even as he rushed out of the room. His stare had been...accusing. As if it were Bush's fault, or as if Bush had betrayed him.
Bush breathed out and sat down on his bed, not even feeling the wince of pain at the sudden movement. There's nothing more damned uncomfortable than telling a man in so many words that his best friend is risking death, dishonor, and everything else for him, he thought to himself with black humor. It didn't cheer up his bleak thoughts. And for some reason, he felt guilty. As if he had betrayed Mr Hornblower.
* * *
Lieutenant Bush was at last pronounced fit for duty. He went back to the room in which he'd spent so much time flat on his back only to pick up his book and a couple other miscellaneous things, and found Lt. Hornblower still seated on Lt. Kennedy's empty bed.
Bush paused, then entered the room. "He did what he thought best, Mr Hornblower," he said from behind the other young man.
Hornblower didn't look back at him. "I know, Mr Bush," he said softly, so quietly Bush almost didn't catch the words. "That doesn't make it any easier for me."
Bush stepped forward until he was standing in front of the younger man. "Mr Kennedy did everything he could to make sure nothing would happen to you," Bush told him. "He knew he wouldn't live. This was the last thing he could do. So don't be a damned fool, Mr Hornblower, and accept his gift." Horatio blinked up at the other lieutenant in surprise. Bush softened his voice. "He was a very great friend, Mr Hornblower. You should be glad that you knew him and were his friend."
Hornblower paused and then nodded. "Thank you, sir, I know," he answered. "I just wish that what he did for me hadn't come at such a great price." He looked as if he would add more, then shook his head and sighed in defeat.
Bush nodded. "I understand, Lieutenant," he said and prepared to leave, knowing Horatio still needed some privacy, some time to think things through.
"Mr Bush sir," Hornblower called as the other man left.
Bush paused and turned around. "Yes Mr Hornblower?"
Hornblower shifted a bit to look back at the second lieutenant. He smiled, just slightly. "You are also a very great friend," he said. "I know Archie thought that as well."
A slow, answering smile curved Mr Bush's lips and he bowed his head. "Good day, Mr Hornblower."
"Good day, Mr Bush."
The second lieutenant left Mr Hornblower alone with his thoughts.