It took so much effort to wake up the next night, and the exhausted Roman slowly rose to his feet, his hand subconsciously stroking the soft fabric of his blanket. The night before had left him exhausted beyond his limits, and his men, especially Marcus, who could tell something was bothering the general, had insisted that Octavius actually sleep for the day, instead of being frozen in his usual, standing position. It would have been better for him to freeze, to let the Tablet work its magic on his tired body, but he'd refused to have any contact with the Tablet. He was afraid of what it could do.

Outside, he could hear the usual hustle and bustle of his city, but it gave him no comfort. He hadn't slept well. His mind had been on Jedediah all day, and he'd tossed and turned, battling down the emotions and feelings of helplessness and despair. This added with the noise of the daytime visitors made his rest impossible, and he'd woken tireder than he'd been when he'd laid down. He sighed miserably, lowering his head into his hands. He rubbed his tired eyes, and remained in that position for a while, the pressure on his eyes relaxing the aching. As the forced darkness filled his eyes, his mind drifted off to Jedediah, and he found it was futile to reel it in.

He wanted to see him as soon as possible, but he'd been informed by Teddy a few hours before sunset that Larry was still asleep, and that he'd locked the office door and had asked not to be disturbed. Which was irritating for everyone concerned, and especially for Ahkmenrah, who'd told the night guard he'd need to check on the cowboy throughout the day, and felt as though his sacrificed sleep had been in vain, since he'd been unable to do his job. It was especially upsetting for Octavius, who'd promised to see the cowboy the very moment the sun set on the horizon. And his promise, which, for something so small, he knew had meant much to his friend, who needed every ounce of comfort he could get in these final days of life. Octavius felt his throat tighten, and his eyes stung as tears threatened to slip from them. He quietly choked down a sob, trying to fight against the onslaught of despair that threatened to break him down. He pulled himself together just as a soft knock announced a presence outside his door.

"Octavius?" A voice asked, which he instantly recognized.

"Come in, Marcus," He said, quickly wiping his eyes. He raised his head slowly as the door opened, and refused to meet his second's eyes. He felt a presence beside him, and a steadying hand on his shoulder. He forced himself to stop trembling, but Marcus had already picked it up.

"Are you alright, Octavius?" He asked, gently rubbing his back.

Octavius bit his lip, and nodded slowly. He wasn't sure if the others had gotten the news yet, and prepared himself to tell his old friend without breaking. "It is Jedediah," He said, folding his hands in his lap and playing with his thumbs. "He is terribly ill."

"We heard," Marcus said sadly, patting his shoulder. "How is he?"

Octavius took a deep breath before continuing. "Not good. He is...he is dying."

"Oh..."

They were silent for a moment, and Octavius silently pleaded that his second would say something, anything, before he fell into that pit of sadness that he so often fell into. Marcus finally spoke.

"I...do not what to say...I am so sorry..." Marcus murmured, averting his gaze to the floor.

"It is okay..." Octavius replied quietly, pausing when his voice broke at the last word. He fought back the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes, and bowed his head to hide his sorrow.

"No. It is not okay, and you do not have to lie about it." Marcus said soothingly, trying to sound as comforting as possible. "You are hurting and need to let it out. Holding it in and pretending nothing is wrong will not help you or Jedediah. I know you have an image to keep up, but the men, everyone, they all respect you." He paused, waiting for a response, and when nothing but the faint sound of sobs met his ears he continued. "You do not have to be a hero, but you must stay strong. Jedediah needs your strength and support. He needs you to comfort him. He will understand your sadness, but you must not let yourself bring him down too. It is natural to cry, and good to let out your feelings, but at the same time you must be considerate. For Jedediah's sake."

"I-I know...I just...I cannot bear it...and it is not fair..."

"I know, Octavius. Life is the most unfair thing ever created. But there is still hope."

"Hope?" Octavius questioned, blinking away his tears. "Hope...what hope could there be left?"

"Well...I like to believe that, no matter what, there is, always, even a little, hope. And if on to that hope, things will get better." Marcus whispered. "It just...takes time."

Octavius sniffed, and slowly relaxed his trembling shoulders. He took deep breaths until he could breath evenly again, and wiped his eyes with his wrist. "Thank you, Marcus. I am sorry if I troubled you."

Marcus smiled warmly and stood, extending his hand. Octavius took it and allowed his old friend to help him to his feet. "You need something to do," He said thoughtfully, leading his general to the door. His eyes brightened with an idea. "How about we watch the archers practice? I hear a few of them have quite the eye for targets."

Octavius nodded slightly and, trying to push his sadness aside, followed Marcus out the door and into the artificial light.

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"That was fun, was it not?" Marcus asked, swallowing his mouthful of bread. He took a small sip of his watered down wine, and looked across the table at his friend and general.

Octavius stood looking down into his cup, a piece of barely nibbled on buttered bread beside him. He wasn't that hungry, and just observed the tiny bubbles skittering across the surface of the red liquid. Marcus frowned.

"Octavius, please. I do not like seeing you like this. I know you are upset, but you need to be good to yourself."

"How can I focus on having fun when someone is dying?" Octavius asked miserably, looking up at Marcus.

"Would Jedediah want you to wallow in your sadness?"

Octavius sighed sadly, and closed his eyes. "No. He would not. He would want me to carry on, until the last day."

"Exactly." Marcus glanced up at the sound of the chiming from the great clock near the entrance of their hall, and stood. "It is midnight. I believe Larry is coming to fetch you." He picked up his helmet, paused, and spoke. "Send Jedediah my condolence. And please, remember what I said." And with that, he walked out of the little bakery, leaving Octavius alone, minus the man working standing behind the counter, apparently pleased with the amount of wine that hadn't been given to his customers.

Octavius slowly rose to his feet, and walked down the main street that led to the edge of his diorama. He listened to the chatter of the people, and watched with longing as they immersed themselves in the many fun activities that were offered to them on nights like this, when visitors were no longer allowed in. Larry had talked to McPhee about closing for a few nights, to give the actors a break, and the exhibits had been excited to hear of their break. l But, it was a break that came from a very bad thing, and many pitying glances were tossed at the general as he went by. At one point, he was even stopped by a small boy, who had hugged him and wished him well, before running off to join his mother, who exchanged a knowing glance with her leader before walking on.

The sound of a horse nearby brought his attention to the tunnel, and he saw Will, one of Jedediah's men, leading his horse across the small span of distance towards the Roman. He raised his hand in greeting, and Octavius waved faintly back, waiting to see what it was he wanted. Though he already knew. The westerners had been shocked at the news of their dying leader, and many had been coming to look for him, asking for news of their leader. It had probably gotten to the point where they could stand the sparse information no longer, and had sent their best man as a messenger.

"Hey, Octavius." Will said, stopping before him.

"Greetings, William." Octavius replied, forcing himself to meet the cowboy's gaze. "How is the West?"

"In shambles," Will replied, shaking his head with a sigh. "The folks ain't happy with the news. They wanna know more, and none of us got any useful news for them. They're impatient to hear. Which is understandable. Jed's a mighty fine leader, and a good guy."

"Yeah..." Octavius replied, looking at his feet. He was indeed a good man, and an even better friend. Will frowned, and patted the Roman on the shoulder.

"Ya know what Jed would say," He said, looking out over the expanse of floor that spread throughout the hall. "'Keep yer head up, don't want life overlooking ya.'"

Octavius nodded, and tried not to imagine the words spoken in Jedediah's voice. He did lift his head up, and forced himself to stare at the bench. As he stared at the unmoving, sculpted wood, he glanced beside him, trying to change the conversation. "You are to be the new leader, yes?" He asked, keeping his voice from trembling.

Will sighed, and nodded. "Yeah. I hope it don't happen though. I can't lead 'em like Jed does. He just...has that talent, you know? He always knows what the folks need. And they respect 'em. I can't expect that same love."

"Do the people not like you?"

"Oh they like me, but I ain't Jed."

They stood in silence for a few minutes, until Larry finally came, hurrying along, his expression shown with an obvious lack of sleep, and Octavius scolded himself for feeling a small rush of self contempt, since he was not the only one who was sleep deprived. Larry smiled tiredly, and laid his hand flat against the diorama to allow the two to step on.

"Hey, guys," The night guard said, lifting them up to eye level.

"Howdy, Larry." Will said, returning the smile.

"Good evening, Larry." Octavius said, his eyes refusing to meet the night guard's.

Larry sighed, and quickly walked down the hallways, towards the door of his office. He'd left Ahkmenrah to watch Jed, and was aware of the pharaoh's exhaustion, and knew he needed to get back quickly to avoid the Egyptian falling asleep while watching the little cowboy. He opened the door quietly, and closed it behind him. The room was dark, and the only light was cast by a small candle sitting in the center of the small coffee table that sat in front of the couch. Ahkmenrah sat on it, munching with an irritated expression, obviously grumpy about still being up. And on Larry's desk, just outside the reach of the soft light, lay Jedediah, out of the glass jar, and laying tucked tight in a small, makeshift bed. Larry walked quietly behind his desk, and set the two down, sitting with a heavy, quiet sigh. He began slowly munching on his cold fries, looking at something on his smartphone, careful to shield the light.

Will made the first move. "Jed?" He said, walking up to his leader's bedside. He led the horse behind him, and stood respectfully beside the cowboy.

Jedediah blinked his eyes open, and smiled weakly, his dull eyes brightening a little. "Hiya, Will. How are you?"

"Good. Good. Worried,"

"I think we're all kinda worried, Will." Jedediah said with a small smile. He then glanced down at his feet, where the horse was nuzzling gently at the blanket. He smiled fondly, and tried to sit up. Noticing he was struggling, Larry gently pushed him up the rest of the way with his finger, holding him steady. The cowboy gently rubbed the animal's muzzle, and rested his forehead against it, whispering softly to the gentle creature. "Hey, Gracie," He said, gently fondling her ears. At the sound of her owner's voice, the horse looked up and snorted, proceeding to try and eat his hair. The cowboy chuckled slightly, raising a weak arm to defend himself from the hungry onslaught. He turned to Will. "She eaten yet?"

"She's eaten. A whole bag 'o oats." Will replied. "She's missed ya, since you've been gone."

"I've missed you too, girl," Jedediah said, kissing her muzzle softly. He held her muzzle with both hands, and looked into her eyes. "Now listen girl. I'm gonna be gone for a while...forever. You'll see me again, soon, perhaps, though hope it's a long while- not that I don't love you, just that you deserve a long life. From now on Will's gonna take care of ya, and yer gonna have 'ta behave. He's gonna be busy...kay?" As if in response, the horse blew softly on his face, ruffling his hair. He smiled, and gently pushed her away, and turned his head carefully, wincing slightly, to look at Will. "Yer gonna need luck, Will," He said, his voice serious. "The boys ain't gonna take my death well. Ya gotta lead 'em well fer me, kay?"

"I will," Will promised. He then took a step back, leading Jed's horse with him. "Octavius's here too."

At the mention of his friend, Jedediah weakly craned his neck to see over WIll's shoulder, and smiled weakly when he saw the Roman. Octavius quickly stepped forwards, standing where Will had stood a moment earlier. He stared down into the cowboy's eyes, wanting to speak but not trusting himself to speak clearly. He didn't know what to say. Jedediah gently placed a shaky hand on his, and smiled up at him.

"Octavius..." He said, his voice very faint.

"Yes?" Octavius managed to say, trying to stop himself from losing it.

The cowboy went to speak, but was interrupted by the quiet creak of the door. Everyone looked up as Teddy stepped in, quickly shutting the door to block out the bright lights from the hall.

"Sorry to bother you," He said, speaking down to the miniatures. "But Octavius' presence is needed back in his diorama."

Octavius looked up at the president, unsure of what he should say or do. He was needed, but Jedediah needed him more. He looked down at the cowboy, and Jedediah spoke. "Go," He said quietly, a faint smile on his face. "Yer people need ya."

As he turned to walk away, Octavius could see the small glimmer of sadness in his friend's eyes, and turned back to him. "I will be back. I promise."

"I know." Jedediah whispered. "I know."

"I...should be going too," Will said, nodding once t Jed. "Feel better soon, whatever happens to ya."

"Thanks, Will. You get back now. And tell the boys that as long as I'm breathin', there's still laws to follow."

Will nodded, and boarded the president's palm. And with a farewell look at Jedediah, Octavius followed, his heart heavy, and waited to be taken back to his exhibit.