It's difficult to meet the other man's eyes. It isn't as difficult, of course, as it will be to meet the eyes of the men he'll need to face if he ever wants to walk the deck of a ship again.
A short, sharp breath helps him focus. It does nothing to cure his frown or the unhappy tension in his shoulders, but it's a start.
James is right, of course. It doesn't lessen the weight pressing down on Horatio's heart, but that certainly doesn't make reality less real. There is no rushing back and hoping for death. There is no dragging what's left of his men to their doom--or to watch him die and drag the names of the lost with him into the deep.
He can't help the briefly frustrated sigh that falls from his lips. He can't help the unhappily tight way his fingers cling just a bit too tight to the older man's.
If this is reality, it's far better that he isn't alone while growing accustomed to it.
"Ah-- Aye aye, sir." It isn't the most conviction he's ever spoken with. Still, no small part of that is the general tightness in his throat. "But will you not-- leave me something?"
It couldn't be that he simply had to lie here and wonder. Surely there was some penance he could make in his convalescence. Surely there was some task to set his mind to apart from hating every inch of himself.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-06-09 02:14 am (UTC)A short, sharp breath helps him focus. It does nothing to cure his frown or the unhappy tension in his shoulders, but it's a start.
James is right, of course. It doesn't lessen the weight pressing down on Horatio's heart, but that certainly doesn't make reality less real. There is no rushing back and hoping for death. There is no dragging what's left of his men to their doom--or to watch him die and drag the names of the lost with him into the deep.
He can't help the briefly frustrated sigh that falls from his lips. He can't help the unhappily tight way his fingers cling just a bit too tight to the older man's.
If this is reality, it's far better that he isn't alone while growing accustomed to it.
"Ah-- Aye aye, sir." It isn't the most conviction he's ever spoken with. Still, no small part of that is the general tightness in his throat. "But will you not-- leave me something?"
It couldn't be that he simply had to lie here and wonder. Surely there was some penance he could make in his convalescence. Surely there was some task to set his mind to apart from hating every inch of himself.