Much more than the water, Horatio wants to take her hand. Much more than anything, he wants to believe completely what she's saying.
But even the slight shift to begin reaching for her hand pulls the beginning of a sob into his throat, and his hand is needed immediately to clamp down hard over his mouth.
He's usually so much better at keeping this sort of weakness down.
It takes a beat, fingers pressed to his lips and eyes searching for any hint of disapproval in Rachel's face. It takes a deep breath in turning into a shuddering breath out.
"I--"
Horatio feels the tears on his cheeks before he's registered properly that he's let out the first sob.
"--I l-love him."
All the other hurts are subsumed into that reality. All the rest of what weighed down his shoulders and crumpled his features was lost under the overwhelming truth of that statement and the uncertainty it created.
That is important. It's just also gut-wrenching, as he sits here wondering if that's really a 'does' or actually a 'did.'
The thought drags another volley of sobbing over his lips, not at all suppressed by the hand crushed over his mouth or the eyes squeezing shut against the rush of tears.
Horatio desperately wants that to be true. That much is clear through the sparkling tears continuing to cloud his eyes as he tries to peek up at Rachel again.
It really would be something to cry properly, without the restraint life in the Diamonds had sorted him into completely. It really would be something to be held, however briefly, until the hurt became easier to bear.
Curling up into Archie's arms had gotten to be easy. At least, with Rachel, there's enough trust to smooth the brief ruffle of panic that she just wants to hush him more quickly.
Horatio moves haltingly from his seat. He collapses the moment he's close enough, the first proper wailing sob muffled against her shoulder.
It takes time, once the tears start in earnest. There are years of not quite letting go that bubble up. There are these terrible last few months. There's the last twelve hours ripping up his heart.
Eventually, the sobbing subsides to quiet shaking. Horatio still can't quite pull himself from the temporary harbour of hiding in Rachel's arms.
“He needs you to be human,” she corrects gently, “We— all together can be strong and— fight for him, but he needs you to be a— person, first, sweetheart.”
It feels like such a small, ineffectual thing to be. It feels like such a fragile, breakable offering to a man he couldn't even keep from being captured or--
Slowly, his breath is coming back to him against Rachel's shoulder. Slowly, his focus is finding its center again.
Having a strong grip at the back of his neck always helps. There's something incredibly soothing about the sensation--of being kept still, of being held in reality rather than let free into his own worried world.
"I... I j-just wish..."
Horatio wishes, desperately, that he had been able to do something. He wishes he remembered something useful. He wishes he could feel quiet enough to be of any use at all to the man he loved.
The explanation is an entirely gentle thing; absolutely acknowledging the trust between them.
"It's all right and-- necessary, to let yourself feel bad. But you can't let it-- hold you back or-- drag you down. I know you did-- everything you were able, to look out for him. He does, too."
Breathing is so much easier when he's being instructed to. His attention can stay focused on it much more properly when he's been given it as a task rather than a general admonition.
"...may..." Horatio is fairly certain she'll say no. He can't stop himself from asking. "...may I go-- look for him?"
The search party hadn't waited for him. In fact, the search party hadn't allowed him to join them, shoving him into this office instead.
“If you think it will— help, you can join the people looking on the battlefield for today,” she offers, “But I can’t have you leaving to try and find their base, and we’ll see if you’re able to— look more, tomorrow, if you need to. All right?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
/HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER INTO THE NIGHT
But even the slight shift to begin reaching for her hand pulls the beginning of a sob into his throat, and his hand is needed immediately to clamp down hard over his mouth.
He's usually so much better at keeping this sort of weakness down.
/loud sobbing
“I know, Horatio— It’s all right, sweetheart. You can let it out here.”
She isn’t going to criticize or think less of him for it.
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"I--"
Horatio feels the tears on his cheeks before he's registered properly that he's let out the first sob.
"--I l-love him."
All the other hurts are subsumed into that reality. All the rest of what weighed down his shoulders and crumpled his features was lost under the overwhelming truth of that statement and the uncertainty it created.
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Her hand stays out in gentle offering, even as the other reaches for a box of tissues to give him.
"And he does, too, mm?"
Which is important, regardless of what the outcome of this disappearance will be.
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The thought drags another volley of sobbing over his lips, not at all suppressed by the hand crushed over his mouth or the eyes squeezing shut against the rush of tears.
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The tears are, at least.
"You're allowed to-- hurt, Horatio. This is something that does."
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Curling in on himself helps a little. It brings more air out of his lungs, stifling some of the sobbing back toward gasping.
"--b-but I n-need to-- b-be looking f-for him--"
And sitting here crying isn't doing that.
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Which will be informative regardless of if Archie's on the list of the dead.
"You have some time to let yourself feel, sweetheart. It's important that you do."
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It really would be something to cry properly, without the restraint life in the Diamonds had sorted him into completely. It really would be something to be held, however briefly, until the hurt became easier to bear.
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Because she recognizes that desperate hurt, and she wants to do what she can to soothe it.
A hug is no substitute for the man he loves, but it’s something.
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Horatio moves haltingly from his seat. He collapses the moment he's close enough, the first proper wailing sob muffled against her shoulder.
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It's so easy to hold him close and let her hand rest lovingly at the back of his neck.
"That's it, let it all out. It's okay."
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Eventually, the sobbing subsides to quiet shaking. Horatio still can't quite pull himself from the temporary harbour of hiding in Rachel's arms.
"...s-sorry."
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Which hopefully is a believable thing.
“It’s okay that it hurts, sweetheart. Truly. And that you show it.”
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A deep breath doesn't clear the hurt from his throat. Hiding a little more firmly against Rachel's shoulder brings an edge of steadiness.
"...h-he needs me to... b-be strong."
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Slowly, his breath is coming back to him against Rachel's shoulder. Slowly, his focus is finding its center again.
"...yes, ma'am."
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It’s an entirely fond statement as her hand squeezes assuringly at the nape of his neck.
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"I... I j-just wish..."
Horatio wishes, desperately, that he had been able to do something. He wishes he remembered something useful. He wishes he could feel quiet enough to be of any use at all to the man he loved.
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By now, he can trust that she knows he trusts her--which is an entirely different thing.
"...h-how can it... n-not?"
i'm laughing at that edit omg
The explanation is an entirely gentle thing; absolutely acknowledging the trust between them.
"It's all right and-- necessary, to let yourself feel bad. But you can't let it-- hold you back or-- drag you down. I know you did-- everything you were able, to look out for him. He does, too."
r u d e
That, after all, is a panic point.
That, after all, would require Archie to still be alive.
listen
But she’s lived most of her life having the briefest of encounters with what must have been ghosts.
“He does.” It comes out entirely assured, if with a gentle squeeze, “No matter— what’s happened, Horatio. He does.”
rude
But it's something Horatio can nod about, slowly and haltingly, as he finds his breath again.
/huff
Her voice is a soft, gentle thing as he nods.
"That's good. Keep breathing."
<3
"...may..." Horatio is fairly certain she'll say no. He can't stop himself from asking. "...may I go-- look for him?"
The search party hadn't waited for him. In fact, the search party hadn't allowed him to join them, shoving him into this office instead.
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Which will already tell him what she’s fairly certain he suspects.
“No. I need you here, right now. The only way we’re absolutely certain to find him if he’s not— among the casualties will be to win this war.”
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But there's no helping the brief prickling of tears back to the corners of his eyes as he lets out a shaky breath.
"--please, ma'am?"
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“If you think it will— help, you can join the people looking on the battlefield for today,” she offers, “But I can’t have you leaving to try and find their base, and we’ll see if you’re able to— look more, tomorrow, if you need to. All right?”
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His head drops briefly, unbidden, back to Rachel's shoulder--the impulsive gesture of a child curling close to its mother.
"--thank you."
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And he’s absolutely welcome to keep curling close.