Alright, here is the second half. This is just one of several AU scenarios
I've imagined, and isn't intended to be linked to a longer story, so I made
the setting deliberately vague. The point of the story is solely character
development, plus just a little self-indulgence on the part of yours truly.
(I'm a sucker for feel-good fics!) Anyway, please review and tell me what
you think of the second half/the piece as a whole.
*******************************************************
He still had trouble believing it, and he could not stop himself from blinking hard every minute, to see if the dream would fade. It did not. How Archie laughed at him as his logical mind struggled to grasp something that transcended logic.
"Horatio, you seem to be developing a severe eye twitch; it is most concerning." Horatio grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry, just can't fully believe it, you know? I just." He couldn't seem to find the right words. "It can't be real, yet I know it is. I'm just so afraid that in a few minutes I'll wake up." Archie smiled at him.
"Put out your hand." Horatio obediently did so. Archie reached out and grasped it strongly.
"Do you feel that, Horatio? That is real. I am real, you are real, we both are perfectly real. Neither of us is dreaming." The touch of his friend's hand holding his affected Horatio deeply. He felt the warmth and strength in his grasp, the warm life-blood that coursed through Archie's hand from his steadily beating heart. Somehow Horatio managed to smile despite the prickling in his eyes.
"I know, Archie. And I thank heaven we are not." Archie's eyes shone in the candlelight, and his smile dazzled his face. It seemed to Horatio that he had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life, for nothing in his life had so warmed and cheered his heart. His friend was still deathly pale, but he was peaceful and had lost the haunted, tortured look he'd worn when Horatio had seen him last. Against all odds, against all reason, Archie had survived, and was recovering - Lazarus incarnate, sent back by some miracle. He had always been skeptical of religion and probably always would be, but now more than ever he could not help but feel he had witnessed resurrection; God's influence in the world. Was it possible there was more to life than logic and order? His mind told him no, but instinct, and now his heart, were beginning to think there might be.
Horatio gazed again at his friend's face; he couldn't seem to gaze enough. It was as though he was trying to memorize every detail, every expression written there. "Why?" He thought to himself. "For next time? For the time when I truly am left alone?" He had come so close to losing the one person that meant everything to him, that now he couldn't help but believe that these surreally joyous moments were nothing but a fleeting vision that, when they'd passed, would leave him even more alone and grief- stricken than before. Would he be able to bear it if it happened again? During the days after Archie's death, before he learned of the miracle, he had passed through all the normal motions of living. He had eaten, cleaned himself, behaved with due reverence to his superiors. He had done his duty, but it had been with all the mannerisms of a zombie, as the locals would say. Inside him was only emptiness and a sorrow so acute that nothing could pierce it. His body had felt heavy, as though he'd been tied to an anchor that with every step tried to drag him down - put him in the earth with his friend. Yes, he'd gone on living, but it had been life-in-death. His body was alive, but his soul and heart had wilted and shriveled up, dry and dead as ashes.
Now a miracle had given his friend and himself a second chance. He should have been grateful. He should have prayed. He should have gotten down on his knees and worshipped. But he could not, because he knew that somewhere out of sight, pain was lurking, waiting for him. If he didn't do something, he knew he would never be able to embrace the new life that God or fate had given him and Archie. But what could he do?
Archie was yawning, and Horatio himself felt exhaustion creeping into his body. It had been a tremendous day, and the buildup and release of emotion had drained him of energy.
"Archie," he began softly, "I think I ought to leave you. I must not deprive you of your rest."
"Please, don't go quite yet. Stay with me a few minutes more, would you?" Horatio could not refuse his friend, and so he said,
"Well, alright, just a little while longer." They sat in companionable silence for a time, the flickering candle illuminating alternately one face, then the other, and sometimes both shone together. From the stillness, three words appeared, unbidden, in Horatio's mind. Three words that, in failing to be uttered, had threatened to destroy him; and he knew suddenly what he had to do.
"Archie?"
"Yes, Horatio?"
"There's something I have to say. I should have said it long ago, but, well, I lost my chance. And now that I have it back again." He trailed off. This was going to be difficult, but he would say it if it killed him.
"Archie," he began again, "you know I'm not demonstrative." Archie grinned.
"You can say that again!"
"Does it bother you?"
"No, because I know you feel, Horatio. Despite appearances, I know you feel as much as I or anyone else." Horatio nodded, once again reminded of how well his friend knew him.
"All the same, I need to tell you - I want you to know what a very dear friend you are to me. I told you I was honored to have served with you, and I meant it, of course, but I meant so much more!" His heart was pounding and he was sweating, but God it felt good to get the words out! Archie seemed mute. He was gazing at his friend, eyes sparkling with tears. Horatio felt a small thrill that he had moved his friend so deeply. But he was not yet finished. Swallowing heavily, he continued.
"Archie, what I meant to tell you was. I love you. I love you as my brother and as my dearest friend. My father is gone; you are my family now." There. It was done. For better or for worse, Horatio had spoken his heart as candidly as he knew how. If he never did so again, at least he'd done it now, and Archie knew. Horatio was still nervous though, and it was several moments before he could bring himself to look at Archie's face. When he finally did, he noticed that tears were spilling over his cheeks and his eyebrows were furrowed with emotion. Feeling more awkward than he ever had in his life, Horatio stood up, half of him wanting to flee the room, the other half wanting to comfort his friend. He stood frozen with indecision, wondering if perhaps his declaration hadn't been the right thing to do after all.
He was still standing there, arrested in place, when Archie rose and silently put his arms around him. The embrace spoke more than any words could have. Horatio didn't need verbal confirmation of Archie's feelings. He knew his were reciprocated by Archie. He had proven it in so many ways, at so many times. Horatio knew that he too had proven his feelings, but his failure to speak them as Archie lay dying had torn a hole in him; a hole that was now mended. So Horatio held his friend, feeling the separate strong beatings of their hearts together, and rejoiced that Archie was not slack in his arms and bleeding. Archie was mending, and when he was better, they would pick up where they left off and sail into the future together. No, not where they left off. They would start afresh with the new life, the second chance that had been given them. Horatio smiled. He was free now; the albatross had sunk into the sea. They were both free, and they could go anywhere.
He still had trouble believing it, and he could not stop himself from blinking hard every minute, to see if the dream would fade. It did not. How Archie laughed at him as his logical mind struggled to grasp something that transcended logic.
"Horatio, you seem to be developing a severe eye twitch; it is most concerning." Horatio grinned sheepishly.
"Sorry, just can't fully believe it, you know? I just." He couldn't seem to find the right words. "It can't be real, yet I know it is. I'm just so afraid that in a few minutes I'll wake up." Archie smiled at him.
"Put out your hand." Horatio obediently did so. Archie reached out and grasped it strongly.
"Do you feel that, Horatio? That is real. I am real, you are real, we both are perfectly real. Neither of us is dreaming." The touch of his friend's hand holding his affected Horatio deeply. He felt the warmth and strength in his grasp, the warm life-blood that coursed through Archie's hand from his steadily beating heart. Somehow Horatio managed to smile despite the prickling in his eyes.
"I know, Archie. And I thank heaven we are not." Archie's eyes shone in the candlelight, and his smile dazzled his face. It seemed to Horatio that he had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life, for nothing in his life had so warmed and cheered his heart. His friend was still deathly pale, but he was peaceful and had lost the haunted, tortured look he'd worn when Horatio had seen him last. Against all odds, against all reason, Archie had survived, and was recovering - Lazarus incarnate, sent back by some miracle. He had always been skeptical of religion and probably always would be, but now more than ever he could not help but feel he had witnessed resurrection; God's influence in the world. Was it possible there was more to life than logic and order? His mind told him no, but instinct, and now his heart, were beginning to think there might be.
Horatio gazed again at his friend's face; he couldn't seem to gaze enough. It was as though he was trying to memorize every detail, every expression written there. "Why?" He thought to himself. "For next time? For the time when I truly am left alone?" He had come so close to losing the one person that meant everything to him, that now he couldn't help but believe that these surreally joyous moments were nothing but a fleeting vision that, when they'd passed, would leave him even more alone and grief- stricken than before. Would he be able to bear it if it happened again? During the days after Archie's death, before he learned of the miracle, he had passed through all the normal motions of living. He had eaten, cleaned himself, behaved with due reverence to his superiors. He had done his duty, but it had been with all the mannerisms of a zombie, as the locals would say. Inside him was only emptiness and a sorrow so acute that nothing could pierce it. His body had felt heavy, as though he'd been tied to an anchor that with every step tried to drag him down - put him in the earth with his friend. Yes, he'd gone on living, but it had been life-in-death. His body was alive, but his soul and heart had wilted and shriveled up, dry and dead as ashes.
Now a miracle had given his friend and himself a second chance. He should have been grateful. He should have prayed. He should have gotten down on his knees and worshipped. But he could not, because he knew that somewhere out of sight, pain was lurking, waiting for him. If he didn't do something, he knew he would never be able to embrace the new life that God or fate had given him and Archie. But what could he do?
Archie was yawning, and Horatio himself felt exhaustion creeping into his body. It had been a tremendous day, and the buildup and release of emotion had drained him of energy.
"Archie," he began softly, "I think I ought to leave you. I must not deprive you of your rest."
"Please, don't go quite yet. Stay with me a few minutes more, would you?" Horatio could not refuse his friend, and so he said,
"Well, alright, just a little while longer." They sat in companionable silence for a time, the flickering candle illuminating alternately one face, then the other, and sometimes both shone together. From the stillness, three words appeared, unbidden, in Horatio's mind. Three words that, in failing to be uttered, had threatened to destroy him; and he knew suddenly what he had to do.
"Archie?"
"Yes, Horatio?"
"There's something I have to say. I should have said it long ago, but, well, I lost my chance. And now that I have it back again." He trailed off. This was going to be difficult, but he would say it if it killed him.
"Archie," he began again, "you know I'm not demonstrative." Archie grinned.
"You can say that again!"
"Does it bother you?"
"No, because I know you feel, Horatio. Despite appearances, I know you feel as much as I or anyone else." Horatio nodded, once again reminded of how well his friend knew him.
"All the same, I need to tell you - I want you to know what a very dear friend you are to me. I told you I was honored to have served with you, and I meant it, of course, but I meant so much more!" His heart was pounding and he was sweating, but God it felt good to get the words out! Archie seemed mute. He was gazing at his friend, eyes sparkling with tears. Horatio felt a small thrill that he had moved his friend so deeply. But he was not yet finished. Swallowing heavily, he continued.
"Archie, what I meant to tell you was. I love you. I love you as my brother and as my dearest friend. My father is gone; you are my family now." There. It was done. For better or for worse, Horatio had spoken his heart as candidly as he knew how. If he never did so again, at least he'd done it now, and Archie knew. Horatio was still nervous though, and it was several moments before he could bring himself to look at Archie's face. When he finally did, he noticed that tears were spilling over his cheeks and his eyebrows were furrowed with emotion. Feeling more awkward than he ever had in his life, Horatio stood up, half of him wanting to flee the room, the other half wanting to comfort his friend. He stood frozen with indecision, wondering if perhaps his declaration hadn't been the right thing to do after all.
He was still standing there, arrested in place, when Archie rose and silently put his arms around him. The embrace spoke more than any words could have. Horatio didn't need verbal confirmation of Archie's feelings. He knew his were reciprocated by Archie. He had proven it in so many ways, at so many times. Horatio knew that he too had proven his feelings, but his failure to speak them as Archie lay dying had torn a hole in him; a hole that was now mended. So Horatio held his friend, feeling the separate strong beatings of their hearts together, and rejoiced that Archie was not slack in his arms and bleeding. Archie was mending, and when he was better, they would pick up where they left off and sail into the future together. No, not where they left off. They would start afresh with the new life, the second chance that had been given them. Horatio smiled. He was free now; the albatross had sunk into the sea. They were both free, and they could go anywhere.