simplestgift | Twenty-four bells: [Action]

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Twenty-four bells: [Action]

[Luceti. Even the name is beautiful.

It's quiet here, but not silent. No cannonfire, no stomping feet or shouting men. No bars or guards or grey stone walls. Everything is lovely and serene and everyone is pleasant. Well. Nearly everyone, but that's okay.

In Hornblower's company, Kennedy stops by the bakery and selects, for some reason, cheesecake. He's never had it--not that he can remember, at least--and it is absolutely the most beautiful thing he can imagine. Chocolate cheesecake, smooth and rich and flavorful with a drizzle of raspberry syrup. He tastes it and doesn't just eat it.

They visit the tea shop and he is floored. They visit the clothing shop and he finds a new linen shirt, already made. They visit the library and...

And...

O the glory of the library. It's as if this town was created for his rehabilitation.

Hours are spent in the library until he learns he can take books out. Even then, he very nearly doesn't leave.

On the way home, he asks to be alone for a moment. When given the chance, he walks the woods close to the village. At twilight, he sits at the fountain, staring into space with utter blankness because he knows the pleasantness of this day is going to end.

He doesn't realize it when the moon rises and he's still sitting alone in its pale light.

OOC: Kennedy's replies will come from

babymid_archie. Meet him absolutely anywhere during the day or at night. Depending on when and where, Horatio will tag in as well, so remember to specify when/where in your tag. Share his rapture or cheer him up. Possible triggers--character is hella post-traumatic.]

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I think you have it the wrong way round. Once his mind's made up that he's going to help someone, he's stronger. It has nothing to do with me except he's always helping me.

No, it's not that.

[a beat] I mean, you're right. That determination is part of it. But...I think you'd have to understand that I've seen this a lot, back home.

There's a difference between helping someone because you want to help them and helping someone because they're your friend. It's not a difference in caring...you can really care about the person in the first case.

But with the first you know, even after they're on their feet, they'll move in and out of your life. It's...temporary. Important and hard and beautiful and terrifying, but temporary.

When it's a friend, though... you don't just walk away when they're stable. You don't just rejoice for a day and then check in once in awhile. You stay and you celebrate and live and you love. And when they fall, you're right there, because you know that if you fell they'd be there to do the same. It's...deeper.

You have a friendship that doesn't fade. A real friendship. Going both ways and everything. ...You're just at the leaning point, right now. That's all.

Edited 2011-11-17 03:57 (UTC)

[She seemed to understand a lot. Even brush aside the terror that Horatio wouldn't care that much about Archie once he was back on his feet. No matter what, Archie would not stop loving Horatio and the thought of this simply being an act of charity was...

Not possible.]

How much do you know? About us?

[...damn and double damn.

She's slow to answer, wondering how to navigate this particular landmine. She didn't want to lie to him--wouldn't, if she could help it--but the whole truth would have been cruel. Possibly. She had no way of knowing how he'd take it, and she certainly hadn't earned his trust enough to know what she did. Not with this Archie.]

I know you've been through harder things than any person should have to face...the two of you, together. [it was true enough, though hopefully it would mask enough to hide how much she knew about Archie in particular.] I know he's been your lifeline. And I know that, one day, you'll return the favor.

[It wouldn't trouble him so horribly. It might even put him at ease for her to know and still treat him with dignity. Back home, everyone knows, and he gets reactions of disdain and pity alike from most. More pity than disdain, to be fair, but pity does not condescend to blossom into real compassion. Compassion, which spurs action. Pity seems to him to be self-indulgent, an sentiment felt when one wishes to rise above another's awful situation and still feel righteous because they consider them at all.]

Then you know enough. [And that's the point. He looks at her, softening, and he doesn't just believe that they were friends. He believes they have become friends again, already. It doesn't take Archie long to attach, and there is nothing threatening about Jilly Coppercorn.]

I'll spend my life returning the favor, I imagine. Still, I don't think I'll ever repay him.

[a small smile] Sometimes it isn't about repayment, so much.

I have a similar friend. Angel. She was for me what Horatio is for you.

..I wont' pretend I could ever pay her back. The truth is, she doesn't need the same things from me that I needed from her. But I did try to learn from her example. And I try to take what she did for me and pass it on to others who are in the same spot.

In some ways, becoming strong enough that I'm able to do that is a better repayment than some kind of quid pro quo.

...I think he wants that. I used to think he just...didn't want to fail. Now I think he truly wishes me to be strong.

I don't doubt it for a second.

Did I ever tell you, when I was here before? What he did?

[a small smile] You've told me quite a few things that he's done.

...But if you mean about what he's done for you...yes.

[she can't be sure he'd told her everything. That wasn't the sort of question she'd ever ask. ...But she was pretty sure he'd come close enough that any remaining secrets wouldn't be enough to made a difference]

Then we do...understand one another, don't we?

We do.

[a small, apologetic smile] I don't think I can apologize enough for meeting you like this. It's not really fair.

Why not?

[her head tilted slightly] Because I know you, but you don't know me. That's not exactly fair.

...It's all right. Everyone knows everything, back home. At least you still act like I'm a man.

[Even though he still feels very much like a boy.]

Because that's exactly what you are.

[it's a calm certainty]

[No energy to argue the point. A faint, polite smile.]

Well. Not everyone agrees.

They don't have to. Dissent doesn't automatically make them right.

...I know.

It doesn't make it easy.

No. [A pause.] Back home, I'm expected to behave as a midshipman.

And you get there.

[leaning back, she fixed her gaze on the stars, considering] Expectations...they aren't bad necessarily. And you'll meet them. But it has to be when you're ready.

[she knew the questions whirling in his mind. Why could everyone else be ready when he was still struggling. What was wrong with him?]

[quietly] People try to understand, sometimes. Genuinely try. And the ones with open hearts or similar pasts get closer than most. But they can't ever know exactly what it was like for you in those moments when you know what hell and evil really are.

They can try. And they can push. And the best will support and chide you just to keep you from giving up. But they can't know. And they can't tell you when you should be "fixed," like there's some magical end-date where the past stops mattering anymore.

[she looks back at him, then, blue eyes on blue if he chooses to meet her gaze] You will be alright, but it won't be because you finally figure out the "right" things to do. It'll be because you're already doing the right things and you just need the time to heal.

[It takes him a long, long time to answer. After meeting her gaze for that last few sentences, he looks away and gives a soft sigh. But unlike his older self, he hasn't been so indoctrinated with "should haves" that he is completely resistant to her words. He hasn't had seven more years to develop his own belief system about how he should be. Somehow, he can allow himself to be put at some ease by her words.]

You believe that?

[she dares to reach over and lightly cover one of his hands with hers, letting her smile slide up to her eyes] Every word.

[His smile is soft and sad, but still a smile.]

Thank you.

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