me? i died for him [reslife au]

[betteralready]

 The topic comes up as they're driving some of the kids home from a retreat. Hamilton's soundtrack is good road trip music, and something Archie's listened to and read up on enough to actually know a thing or two. 

He thinks Horatio's asleep in the passenger seat when one of the kids pipes up with a question about Laurens' line in the first song. Archie's surprised when none of their other residents don't know the theoretical answer-- replies easily after a glance Horatio's direction. He's facing away from him, but his breathing's fairly steady. He's probably asleep.

It makes it easier for Archie to start to explain.

"It's actually pretty depressing, if you think about it," he begins, eyes focused on the road but gaze flickering a moment to meet with the resident that posed the query in the first place, "Apparently, there's a lot of evidence indicating that Laurens and Hamilton were in a relationship, starting about when they were aide-de-camps under Washington. But Laurens had some-- really bad self-esteem and awful internalized homophobia, thanks mostly to his dad being an ass. And when the war was drawing to an end, he didn't really-- think he'd have much of a place in the world after, but he knew Hamilton would."

There's a thoughtful flicker to his expression, for a moment. He hadn't thought much of it before, but there's the beginnings of a realization of some parallels. Unconsciously, he tucks it away for later reflection.

"So there's-- quite a bit of indication that Laurens rather recklessly threw himself into that last battle he fought. That it was a kind of-- suicide by proxy, partially because he-- didn't want to live after the war, but it was partially because he knew that Hamilton had the potential to-- really be something, in the new country they were making. But he thought, and probably rightly, that that would only happen if Hamilton married a woman and wasn't-- even the least bit rumored to be romantically or sexually involved with a man. But Hamilton was too loyal and wouldn't've given up on Laurens without a fight."

Another brief flicker of his gaze back to his kid, his smile a little sad.

"So to Laurens, it seems, the only solution was to-- die, so that Hamilton would have a-- good chance at things. Hence his 'I died for him.' Depressing, right?"

"Hella," the resident agrees, "And then Hamilton didn't even manage to-- keep things going well for himself. He had to mess it all up by cheating on Eliza and-- being a stubborn, impulsive idiot."

It's easy enough to let the change in topic happen naturally. Archie lets himself laugh in response to the words, and the conversation turns easily enough to Hamilton's foolishness.

Through it all, Archie still thinks Horatio's asleep.

Comments

[midship]

Fighting is still easy. Loving is still easy.

This bit--the talking, the feeling out, the actual fumbling for words--is difficult, but God if it isn't worth every bit of struggle.

"--you are?"

[betteralready]

"Yeah."

It's soft as he presses a quick kiss against his lips once more.

"It's-- I know it hurt you. That-- a lot of last time hurt-- both of us. So we should-- talk about things more."

[midship]

The kiss helps. Reminders that the world isn't gripping them quite so tight by the neck always do.

He still can't quite help the wrinkle of his brow. "You shouldn't have to think about it, Archie."

[betteralready]

"Just because we shouldn't-- have to do a lot of things doesn't mean we-- don't, mm?"

There's a lot that can refer to, really. His smile still sticks, though, and he stays pressed in warm and close.

[midship]

"I just want you to be happy."

It's lovely to reach up, like he does now, and feel the curve of Archie's smiles. It's affirming to find they're so much more often in place even than the first time around.

"As happy as possible, Archie."

[betteralready]

"And I am, this time, Horatio."

It's honest as he always is.

"I just-- want to make sure you are, as well, and that we've-- worked through everything from-- last time."

He knows better than most, after all, how things can fester if they're allowed to linger.

[midship]

He trusts Archie infinitely. Even now, he trusts Archie with his life.

He still can't help the way his features wrinkle with nerves. "Worked through?"

[betteralready]

"Just-- I hurt you, by leaving."

There's obvious guilt and regret in his voice as he says it.

"And-- I don't know, whatever-- else was left unsaid. We should-- make sure it's all-- properly out there."

[midship]

The motion of his hands is unconscious. He has to catch protectively at the other man's cheeks again, to hold Archie close and safe in the wake of harsh memories.

"You shouldn't carry that, Archie."

[betteralready]

It's so easy to lean into the touch. It's so easy to press a kiss into Horatio's palm soothingly.

"I already-- wonder about it," he tells him quietly, "And I just... If it helps you to-- get it out there. To make last time not-- hurt quite as much."

[midship]

"You didn't-- do it to hurt me."

He'd had to focus on that. He still has to focus on it when he wakes up in a cold sweat.

[betteralready]

"I didn't," he affirms, "But-- still."

It didn't necessarily stop things from hurting.

[midship]

Still.

Still, it had haunted him. Still, it had clung like a shadow to his heart for the rest of his life. Still, it wakes him up at night and startles him in quiet moments into scrambling to find Archie's hand to cling tight to.

"What would there be to... say?"

[betteralready]

"I don't-- know."

A somewhat nervous flicker of his gaze.

"Whatever you-- felt, or are-- feeling."

[midship]

There have been so many chances to be better, this time around. This feels like it must be one as well.

It must be that he can talk to Archie about his feelings. It must be that he can manage them into words at least that the other man will understand, even if no one else in the world.

"--it hurt. It-- broke my heart."

[betteralready]

His nod is understanding and sympathetic.

"I'm sorry."

That needs to get out there. That's important. He just wants to leave room for more than that.

[midship]

"You did it out of loyalty, Archie. Don't apologize for that."

That, really, had been half of the torture. His fingers pull away, entire body leaning back slightly to find a more protective position leaned against the wall.

[betteralready]

"I'm not apologizing for that. I'm apologizing for-- the fact that it hurt."

When Horatio shifts away, he can't help but follow a little carefully; a touch nervous.

[midship]

His breath comes in an unhappy rush, but his hands find their way to clutching carefully at one of his boyfriend's again.

"It did." His hesitation is obvious. It's one thing to throw into his own risk. It's another thing entirely to be chevalier with Archie's emotions. "You didn't mean for it to."

[betteralready]

He holds his hands again with obvious relief, squeezing them slightly.

"I didn't," he agrees with a nod, "But-- it is okay, Horatio. That it hurt."

[midship]

It had been easy to trust Archie then. It's easy to trust Archie now. If there's anything that's absolutely always been under Archie's authority, it must surely be this exact sort of allowance.

If Archie says it's okay to hurt, it must be.

As much as anything, it's a relief. His fingers squeeze a little tighter as he studies their hands, brow furrowed in concentration.

"It... It did. I thought for the longest time that it might actually kill me."

[betteralready]

His nod is quiet, encouraging as he presses another careful kiss against Horatio's knuckles.

"I'm-- glad it didn't. I-- hoped it wouldn't."

[midship]

"Just a piece of me."

An important piece of him. A larger portion of his heart than he had been able to comprehend had been lost when Archie was taken.

"I didn't... I didn't know how to mourn." Being vulnerable is a little easier this time around. It's always been easiest with Archie, quiet and safe like this. "And I couldn't-- You should have been honoured. Men should have spoken your name with reverence for-- generations. It shouldn't have just been-- the few of us who thought to toast to you-- when we were alone."

Finding Bush again had been a blessing for dozens of reasons. One had absolutely been the freedom to speak Archie's name again; to be told gently that the man who had meant the world to him was still loved by someone other than himself.

"Archie, I could barely-- It was torture to worry if I even-- spoke of you too fondly, someone might--"

[betteralready]

It's enough, honestly, to know that he was remembered with fondness by more than just Horatio. He knows his boyfriend hadn't-- still didn't-- see it that way.

Still, it warms his heart, to know how much he'd lingered in Horatio's thoughts, even if it was to somewhat ill effect. His head ducks just slightly to hide the quiet blush; his nose bumping now against Horatio's fingers.

"That's difficult," he affirms quietly, "I wish I hadn't left you to that. That we'd had time or-- the words, to make it-- not so rough for you, after."

[midship]

There's something strange but oddly affirming about having Archie look faintly at peace with the situation. It adds to the soothing nature of the words.

"If... If we'd had time, Archie, what-- what would have changed?"