captainhornblower | [luceti]

[there's a teasing response there, about captains and skills of deduction, but she's too tired to manage it, and they're both too serious for it to sit right.

Instead she simply shakes her head] You're no good to him if you run yourself into the ground. He's going to need you when he wakes up. At full strength. That means eating and sleeping...

Both of which you're failing pretty spectacularly at.

I try to sleep.

[That much is honest. He won't leave his post beside the bed, but he has tried to sleep. He does not mean to wake up like he does, pulled from whatever rest he might have been catching at every hour and every half.

But worrying like this for Archie raises too many ghosts.]

And I've been eating.

[When forced.

In order to get coffee.]

I'm sure the coffee is really helping with that.

[she's already regretting bringing him another cup, even as she's grateful for the boost herself. Double standards...the room was full of them] You need a proper bed.

[a pause] If I asked Doctor McCoy for a cot, would you try it, at least?

[He doesn't even need to think about it.]

No.

[He won't fall asleep. Not any further from Archie than his chair is. He won't leave Archie, won't let himself slip into that unaware state of pure sleep.

Between the wounds, the fear, the memories, and the ghosts...

Leaving Archie again would be the worst crime he could commit.]

I'm comfortable.

Right. If by comfortable you mean that your neck is probably stiff as a board and you have to have lost feeling at least 10 times from not changing positions.

[...]

Give me a good reason not to get Len to slip tranquilizers into your next cup of coffee?

Because if you do, he'll probably get the idea to do the same to you.

[He's not leaving the chair, damn it.

Then, quietly, he adds.]

Jilly. [The seriousness of his voice might well detract from any sense of accomplishment that he has temporarily dropped "Miss."] I've sat by many bedsides.

I... I can't afford to be asleep when something changes. I can't risk not being here.

[For better or worse. Whatever change comes, he won't be away from Archie's side when it happens.]

[that...was a very real possibility. One that does indeed make her reassess the option of enlisting outside help.

It's the need in his voice that convinces her, though, causing her to sink back in her chair. For a moment, she'll look almost as tired as he does.]

So don't leave, but let me bring a cot in for you. In here. With him.

[Another time, the unexpected familiarity would have brought a smile or a laugh and more than a little teasing. Now it doesn't even register. They're both too invested to notice much else.]

You can't afford to miss him waking up, but he can't afford to find you half-dead, either. He's going to want to know you're okay.

[a beat] Even if that's a lie.

I've managed with less sleep before. And less to eat.

[As long as he always had a reason to keep going.

What he doesn't say is that his drive to care for himself, his drive to do anything... is stalled. Ready to either abandon him entirely or kick back into full force.]

So have I. Managing isn't the point.

He is.

[her gaze slides to Archie, lingering on the lieutenant for a long moment.

She doesn't say it. That Horatio taking care of himself is what he'd want. But it lingers in the air between them all the same]

[Horatio's shoulders slump a bit, his arms rested on his legs. For a moment, the pure exhaustion shows.

Years of exhaustion.

The years that he's been going and going, pushing himself on with his life and away from anyone else who dared to try to get close. Years of building walls.]

I swore I'd never be in this position again.

I'd never have this much to lose.

You didn't know you'd get him back.

[I swore I'd never be in this position again. Sometimes, you weren't given a choice]

[He took a small breath and closed his eyes.]

I can't lose him again.

You won't.

[her coffee was cooling in her hands, but she kept her palms cupped around the lukewarm paper. It was something to focus on]

This place isn't like back home. You don't have to lose him, here.

[there was the threat of the Third Party and the permanent death they could bring. But here in the confines of the barrier, he would come back. Even with the worst.

It didn't make it alright. It didn't make her any more willing to leave Archie's side while he slept, and she didn't think it would be any different for Horatio. But it was the one promis she could make]

[Horatio took another drink of his coffee.

By the sound of it, the cup was almost empty.]

I keep being told that.

[Archie had said it about the draft, now Jilly said it. He didn't disbelieve it, but...]

I'm still too used to my world. To what [death] it is there. I don't-- [He catches himself. And there's a quiet sound, like the clearing of his throat.] Ha--h'm.

We'll see what comes to pass.

It's not a free pass. There's a price.

[a pause] And he won't need it anyway. He'll wake up and heal and we won't let this happen again.

[there was still an underlying anger at the lack of protection, a sick twist of bitterness knowing that she'd been safe...and he hadn't been.]

No. No, we won't let this happen again.

[There can be no argument. His own safety? Immaterial. Her safety? Archie's safety? He'll die trying to protect them.]

[for a long moment, she lets the silence fall.

It's where her own internal conversations have taken her, time and time again. They couldn't let this happen again. They couldn't let him die. They couldn't let a million things happen when they had so little actual control.

...but she pushes aside those thoughts for a return to something a little less precarious] You didn't say. About the cot.

I don't-- want one.

[He couldn't say he didn't need one. He probably did. Honestly, by now, William would have fixed him with that look for long enough that he'd have felt compelled to leave for an hour or two to at least pretend to sleep.

But William Bush was not here, and the only other man who could guilt him into trying to rest was not awake at present.]

But thank you for the offer, Miss Jilly.

[she manages a small smile. The teasing in her voice is weak, but still there] I'm offering for myself as much as anything. You're making me tired just looking at you.

[He shakes his head, his voice as light as he can manage.] If you'd like to bring one in for you to sleep on, please do. [Gentleman sensibilities kicking in. A little.] Or shall I fetch one for you?

[a laugh] So you won't sleep, but I've got to.

That doesn't seem fair.

[there's an underlying message to the mostly lighthearted statement. She's tired of the double standard]

It isn't fair.

[Life isn't.

It's more cynical than he usually outright says, but it's all he's been thinking about. How unfair this entire God damn thing is. How unfair it is that Archie was wounded, stabbed in the back. How unfair so much has been. For so long.]

[.......]

You're not my captain, Horatio.

[she means he doesn't need to sacrifice himself for her, but there's a level of loss there that she can't help but bump up against]

And so I cannot give you orders.

[He could barely restrain himself from rolling his eyes. A sharp edge came to his voice as he looked over at her, trying to soften the words but not succeeding.]

That does not mean I need to be coddled.

[she's tired. Like him, she hasn't slept properly in days, and her patience stretches at his response, her smile fading into a thin line]

No. You can't.

And it means that I'm not going to pretend to be blind when you're being foolish.

[luceti] - Appointments

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