The Road Back

Captain Sir Edward Pellew was admitted into the foyer of his Portsmouth home by his butler of several decades, Preston. Having spent the last five days in London attending meetings at the Admiralty, he would be glad to finally relax in the comfort of his favorite chair and give no thought to either entertaining the local worthies or dancing about the gentry like the cheap tart it always made him feel to perform such duties.

Informed that there was food if he was hungry, he politely declined and asked if, by any chance, the Lieutenant was about. Returning his smile, Preston told him where he could be found. Immediately making his way to the large glassed in conservatory, his smile widened and his eyes softened as he saw Horatio, dressed in shore clothing, engrossed in his writing, sitting bent over the desk which they both liked to use, his back to the room.

Pellew took a moment to study the young man, his lover for three years now. He had been seriously wounded several months before, close to death, and was still recovering from both the initial gunshot and the ensuing infection. He was twenty to thirty pounds under weight and required at least eighteen hours of sleep per day. The recovery was proving to be a long one, much to the young man's frustration.

Stealing up behind him, he moved the dark curls of the queue away from his neck, placing a gentle kiss on the protected skin there, his hands lightly resting on the broad shoulders.

Horatio's hands came up to hold Edward's and he barely breathed the name "Edward", as he leaned back into the kiss. After a moment to savor the feel of lips on his skin, he rose, turning and stepping away from the chair in the same movement and slid his arms around his lover.

"I missed you. That bed is too large for just one person."

Pellew's arms encircled Horatio. The two stood embracing, enjoying being reunited, enjoying the feel of each other and the fact that they had more time together. It had come so close to being cut off by the sniper. The scar on Horatio's chest was a constant reminder to them both, though they each saw it differently. To Edward it represented the fragility of life, how easily it can be cut short. To Horatio it meant that they had more time, that they had overcome the possible tragedy, that there was still more ahead for them together.

Edward could feel the bones through Horatio's shirt, the ridges of his ribs, the knobs of his spine, the sharp wings of his shoulder blades. "Have you been eating? I've been worried about you, you know."

"Yes, I do know and, yes, I've been eating vast amounts of food. I've become a glutton in your absence. God knows that I've had nothing else to do."

"You must concentrate on regaining your health, love. That's what matters now." Hornblower nodded with some resignation and allowed his arms to drop and as he moved a step or so back to close the book he had been writing in when Edward arrived.

"What have you been writing there? A journal? May I see?"

"No, it's nothing. You'd not be interested." He dismissed whatever he had been about and made an obvious attempt to change the subject. "Walk with me in the garden?"

Pellew nodded. Whatever Horatio wished was fine. Just to have him here was joy enough. "Yes, but please get your jacket. It's become quite cool out." Hornblower nodded, walking out of the room to fetch the garment.

Against his own moral streak, Pellew opened the book that Horatio had been writing in when he arrived, turning to the most recent pages. It was a journal, evidently a record of his wound and subsequent illness, seemingly beginning with his stay at his father's several months earlier after he had been put ashore to recover. Edward had no idea that Horatio was keeping such a thing. His normal respect for Horatio's privacy was overshadowed by curiosity about the young man's inner feelings. He was generally so reserved that his emotions and private thoughts were unknown, even to someone as close to him as Edward had become. Turning to the latest entry and knowing that he was wrong to do so, he read.

I understand why Edward won't touch me, won't come near me. Why he's in London when the meetings could easily have been moved here to Portsmouth. The look on his face when he approaches me is now one of pity. He would deny this, but I see it plainly.

When we are abed, he will not come near me, he can't bear any contact with me, keeping well clear on his own side. I know that I am not as I was, but I ache to feel his arms around me in more than friendship. We've not made love since several days before the injury, almost five months now. When I put my arms about him or wish him to sleep in my arms as we used to, he will have none of it. Lying scant inches from him, yearning to press against him, yet knowing that he doesn't wish it, breaks my heart. When I've tried to initiate lovemaking, he finds excuses related to my weakness or exhaustion then pulls away. Cannot he see that what I need is him?

Part of me hopes that he has found another; perhaps that is why he has gone to London. I couldn't blame him if he has done so as I now repel him. He should be with someone who can give him the love that he needs, as I cannot and God knows that I wish his happiness with all that is in me.

I see myself reflected in the dressing room mirror and it is as though I look at a stranger. I see the bones protrude grotesquely from my skin, like a starving animal and am appalled as much as Edward is. I know I look a freak, but I can't stand to eat to gain back the weight I've lost. The sight of the food makes me gag and I find that after only a few mouthfuls, I wish no more.

Lost. I know that I'm losing Edward. I ache with the knowledge but I can do nothing about it. I am still not cleared to return to the ship and she will likely sail without me.

I love him and I know that I now disgust him. Were I less of a coward, I would leave this place, but I am too weak willed to do so. I must be with him now, for I know that it will not be for much longer. I feel as though I store up memories now for later use. I am like a miser hoarding my gold.

Oh, God. I know that this is ending and I can't bear it.

Edward stared at the pages, stunned by what he had read. That Horatio felt like this was agony to him. It was true that he'd not made any advances to the young man since the injury, but that was out of respect for his recovery, not lack of desire. To have his reticence taken for a lack of interest or disgust saddened Pellew more that he would have imagined. He loved Horatio with everything in him, believing that he had finally found his soul mate. To have the other part of himself believe him unable or unwilling to cope with convalescence was more disheartening that he would have thought.

Hearing steps approaching in the hallway, he closed the book and quickly turned back to Horatio's entrance into the room. He saw the look of suspicion pass over Horatio's face when his eyes flicked to the book on the writing desk, but evidently decided not to confront Edward about it.

"Ready?" Horatio nodded and they headed out the back doorway directly into the garden. It was late summer and the garden was beginning to have that end of season look about it. A few of the flowers were still bright; a few roses were hanging on and some of the mums made spots of color here and there.

They strolled quietly, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Horatio spoke. "Did everything go well in London? You were gone longer than you expected, were there problems?"

"No, it was fine. The meetings just ran over. You know how that can be." Hornblower looked over at him without commenting. They walked a bit more. "I didn't meet anyone there, you know. You are my only lover, and the only one I want."

"You read the journal."

"Forgive me, but yes, I did. Your fears are groundless, love. I wish no other than you. I would have you believe that."

Horatio had stopped at the stone wall from where they could look down at the harbor. Indefatigable lay at anchor below them. His eyes fixed on the ship; he drew a shuddering breath, shaking his head at Edward's reassuring words. Barely audible, more to himself than to Edward he spoke. "You can't stand to touch me. You avoid me. In bed, we may as well be in different rooms."

"Horatio, you were so badly injured and then so very ill. I was afraid to hurt you. I still am. You're still so thin and constantly exhausted"

Horatio continued to look down at the harbor, laughed with bitterness to himself. "Afraid to let me hold you as we sleep? Afraid to kiss me when we say goodnight? " He turned his head, looking directly at Pellew. "Edward, you want the lover you had six months ago, a year or two ago. You don't want me as I am now, and I understand that. I don't even blame you. I know that I'm not as I-was." He looked back out at the ships. "This isn't what you bargained for. You thought that you were getting a strong young lover, not an invalid." Edward took the step between them, putting his hand up to cup the sharp jaw line. Horatio gently pulled away. "I think it might be best if I went back to Kent. My father has the room and you've neither the time nor the thought to have me here any longer. I just asked Preston to pack my things, Edward. I'll arrange transport for tomorrow morning."

Before Edward could protest, Hornblower had turned and walked back to the house, leaving the older man stunned. What did he mean by this? Was he truly intent on ending their affair or was this merely a gambit to force Edward's hand? After a few minutes of thought, Pellew followed into the house, locating the young man up in the bedroom, pointing out what in the room was his to the maid who was doing the actual packing. "Leave us, please, Sarah." She bobbed a quick curtsey and closed the door behind her.

"Horatio, there's no reason for this. Your recovery is taking longer than anticipated, that's true, but you are getting better and will be yourself before much longer. I know that you find it frustrating, but it will pass." The young man stood with his back turned, his hand casually resting on their bed, his head angled down to it, his eyes staring unseeing.

"It won't be the same. I'm not the same and I won't be. You know that as well as I do. When we entered into this three years ago we both knew what we were getting into. That's been changed now." He looked up again at Edward. "I do love you, you know, still. I want…" He trailed off, his momentum gone.

"What is it you want, Horatio?"

"It to be as it was before I was hurt. I want us to make love again, joyously as we did, giving pleasure to one another with no fear of pain or hemorrhage or overextending. I want us to be-as we were."

Edward moved closer, taking the young man in his arms, cradling him and soothing the pain and frustration and the loneliness that radiated from him. He was still young, still so very vulnerable, despite his accomplishments. It was a side of him that few saw. It was only Edward he would willingly allow inside his private world with almost no reservations. It was only Edward who knew the insecurities that sometimes seemed to overwhelm him.

"I love you, and you know that to be true. Your injury had no affect on that. If anything it forced me to examine my feelings for you, to clarify them in my own mind. I know that you are who I want, that you are the one who fulfills my needs and you are the man I wish to share my life and my bed with."

"But Edward…" He didn't continue, just shaking his head.

"No, hear me out. Horatio, don't you see? Don't you understand? I love you, whatever it is that makes you unique, whatever it is that sets you apart from everyone else whom I've ever met-I love. And if it takes you a few more months to recover than we had at first expected, then so be it."

"When does Indy sail?"

"Early next week. But you're not to worry about…"

"Edward. Please, just stop." Horatio pulled away, standing slightly removed. Pellew thought, as he looked at him that he had never seen the young man appear as defeated as he did at that moment. "You'll be gone for months, perhaps years. I have no illusions that you'll wait for me all that time, nor would I wish you to do so. We both know that I'll not be cleared to ship out by then. It's best for both of us if we simply acknowledge that this has run its course. I'll stay here until you've gone, if you wish, but after that, I'll go. Anything else would be foolish."

"You are recovering and you will be declared fit sooner than you think, love, but you must have patience."

At this last plea, Horatio looked sharply at Edward. "You've done something, haven't you? Pulled some strings, called in some favors to have my medical chart altered? What was it you've been doing in London?"

"You know precisely what I've been about. I had meetings with various Admirals' about our upcoming assignment. As for paying off friends to have you declared fit, I'd not do such a thing and you know better than to suggest that."

"No, Edward. You've been up to something. It's as clear as if it were written on parchment. What was it?"

"It's not been approved yet by the Admiralty, so there's no point in discussing this now."

"Damn it, Edward, stop playing semantic games. What have you done?"

"You must realize that this may not happen, as it's not yet been authorized, but as we're both aware that you'll likely not be ready to leave with us next week, I've inquired about your transfer to another ship when you are ready."

Horatio stared at him, too stunned for the moment to speak. "And when were you going to bother to mention this to me?"

"When I knew if it was approved, obviously. I expect word one way or the other on that by the end of the week."

Edward watched the hundred thoughts flash across Hornblower's face as he turned and stared out the large window that also overlooked the harbor. Finally, swallowing hard and with a barely audible voice, he just said the single word, "Fine".

"Horatio, please…" He was stopped by a single raised hand. Turning, the young man walked out of the room without sparing a glance for Pellew. A few minutes later, Edward saw him walk out to the garden, seating himself on the stone wall and facing the ships at anchor below.

After about half an hour, the older man went down to the conservatory and, knowing that he was, again, invading Horatio's privacy picked up the journal and began reading.

I write this sitting in the bed I used as a child, now the young officer home from the war recovering from his wounds.

My father is intent on discovering the truth of my relationship with Edward, claiming I made admissions while delirious and intent on finding if his son is a sodomite. Obviously, I tell him nothing.

God only knows what he would do with the knowledge, were he to learn what we are to one another.

I don't know if I shall be able to keep what he wants to know from him. He is relentless in his questions and seems convinced that his suspicions are correct. They are, of course, but it's not his concern

I improve slowly and have pain that I will not admit to. I loath being hovered over and to tell them that I hurt would be to unleash the hounds of hell on me.

++++++

Three weeks since I've been able to write. I succumbed to an infection that had to be twice drained and which has left me weaker than I would have thought possible.

I miss Edward desperately; yearn for him, dream of him. I know Indy is still likely in themed, but I would give everything to hear his voice or wake to see him beside him.

Father still asks about us. I tell him nothing.

I find that I am now so thin that I find it uncomfortable to lie in a single position for more than a few minutes. I have lost what little padding I had and Rosie berates me daily to eat more. I try, but have no appetite.

++++++

This morning I managed to walk out to the garden unassisted. A triumph!

Perhaps I may be able to clothe myself soon.

God, I hate this. I hate the weakness that is my body and the emptiness that engulfs me without Edward. The pain of being without him far surpasses the pain of my injury.

When I begin bleeding again, I sometimes think it's my need for him.

I know, I am foolish, but I miss him so desperately.

++++++

A letter today from Edward, joyous, happy day!

They are returning from blockade and will be in Portsmouth. Dear God, let him come here, please.

Father is still asking me about him, I still tell him nothing. Around and around we go.

I still sleep more than the cat and am weaker than I thought possible. I still have no wish for food and seem to waste daily. My clothes hang on me and I know that I look like the very Devil. I should be more concerned than I am, I suppose, and Rosie wrings her hands at me to eat.

++++++

I fear that my recovery progresses so slowly that I shall be unable to rejoin Indy when she next sails.

If she goes, if HE goes without me, I shall die.

My Edward, My Dearest Edward.

I love you so desperately.

++++++

There was more, mostly in the same vein, Horatio's frustration at the slowness of his recovery, his loneliness, and his fear that his father would make trouble should he discover their relationship. Finally, shortly before Edward had gone to visit him at his father's home, there was another entry that caused Edward to stiffen in his chair.

I see myself in the mirror, I see the expressions on friends' faces when they come to visit and I know that they think that I will be an invalid forever. I know that they think I will not recover and I hear my father talking when he thinks I cannot hear.

He has mentioned-out of my hearing, or so he thought-that he should write the Admiralty to tell them to put me on the permanently disabled list.

Even he thinks that I'll not recover, and I start to agree.

My thoughts go to Edward in this.

I cannot ask him to have me as I am. I cannot think that I can in any way appeal to him as I am now. He must have a lover who can aspire to be his equal, not someone who will merely be a millstone.

I want him to have someone who will serve him well, not a cripple. I cannot ask him to accept me now; I don't want him to see me as I am. I am appalled by what I have become and I would not see pity on his face. I cannot, I would not be able to bear that, not from Edward.

God, I love him, so much.

I can't do this to him. I shall write him, tell him that I've thought and wish to end our liaison. He will have to accept it. He must. He must be with someone young and strong, someone who is as I was.

I will end this and I love him.

Were he to walk in tomorrow what would I do? What else can I do?

God, Edward.

++++++

He stood up, closing the book as he did so. Turning, he crossed the room, picking up Horatio's boat cloak as he went. Opening the door to the garden, he went over to where Horatio was till lost in thought as he watched the ships. Carefully dropping the cloak over the thin shoulders, he sat beside the younger man.

"I thought that you must be getting cold out here."

"Thank you." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "You were reading the journal, I saw you. I wish that you hadn't done that."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I wished to know your thoughts regarding what would become of us." Edward paused to compose his thoughts. "I don't want to lose you. I do love you, you know that."

"What about the transfer?"

"You know that I can't hold your position much longer. Even if I were to put a temporary replacement in your place, we'll be away so long this time that you would be left hanging. You need another assignment so I found what seems like a good prospect."

Horatio looked over at him warily, but with little interest. "Oh?"

"Renown is expected in another month or six weeks and is in need of a Lieutenant. I think this will be a good opportunity for you. It's a ship of the line and James Sawyer is well known. It will look good on your record, then after a year or two, you should make Commander and have your own ship."

"Neatly arranged, Edward, my compliments."

"There's no need for sarcasm. You know as well as I do that this is the best solution."

"Yes."

"In addition, I've word that Renown and Indy will be sailing in the same waters. We should be able to see one another in one port or another."

"Perhaps we can wave from the quarterdecks while rendering passing honors."

"That's enough of that. You should be on Renown for a year or two then make Commander, after that you'll have your own ship and things will improve. Is that what you want or not?"

"Of course." It was spoken tonelessly. Then, "I'll stay until you leave with Indy, if that's all right. After you're gone, I don't think that I should be here. There would be gossip, and you don't need that."

"Horatio, you know that you can stay. It's known that we are friends and that you're considered my protégé. It wouldn't be a problem." No answer. "This isn't the end for us unless that is what you want. I still want you and I still love you. You are recovering and when we're next together, you should be your old self. Believe me in this."

"I don't want you to wait years for me. You know that I don't expect that of you. I would prefer to know that you find-someone. I don't like thinking of you alone, Edward."

Edward sighed in exasperation. "You know that you are the one I want. I desire no one other than you." Horatio looked at him, a look that said that he wasn't buying that for a minute. "Oh, for the love of God, I've left you alone because you were injured, not from a lack of desire. I've told you this repeatedly."

The young man said nothing, secluded in his stubbornness and refusal to believe that they hadn't come to the end of their time together. He turned to study Edward beside him then, seemingly coming to a decision, he took the older man's hand and finally spoke.

"You'll leave in about a week. I know that you'll be busy readying the ship, but could we attempt to make this week as normal as possible? Have it be like just another week between us? Do all the usual things, go to the usual places, and see the usual people?"

"And sleep together as usual"

He lowered his head. "Yes, that, too. Could we try?" His eyes were focused on his knees. "I couldn't bear to have an endless parade of goodbyes and last dinners and the like. I just want it to be-normal."

"Yes, that's what I would prefer also, love, though this isn't the final farewell you seem intent on painting it. Right. That's what we'll do. So you'll stay?"

"Yes, I would like to, if you don't mind."

"Horatio, you know that's what I want." Edward took the young man's hand, rubbing the skin with his fingers. "What about after I leave. I don't want to lose you. I would like to know that we'll be together again at some point. I was serious about wanting to grow old with you and I can't bear the thought of the cottage without you there with me."

"Will we be able to write if we're careful? I know that we can't just come out and say things about how we feel, but we could at least still be in contact, can't we?"

"I don't see why not if we are careful. You are one of my officers, former officers. There would be nothing unusual about our writing. And it is known that we are friends, after all. That shouldn't be a problem if we watch what we write." He stopped, looking at Horatio. "What is it? Do you not believe me?"

Horatio watched a cloud silently pass them by. "Answer me honestly, Edward. After you leave without me, after I'm transferred to another ship and we are separated for months or years-will we still be able to love each other? Will we still want to? Will one of us, or both of us, meet someone else? If I never fully recover, will you still want me?"

"You ask me to answer the impossible. I know that I love you and I trust and believe that you love me in return. I know that I am not searching for another, and I do not believe that you are, either. I know that I want you to be here when I return and I know that I've never, in my life, met another who means more to me than you do. If it were to happen that your recovery were to stall before you regained what you were before your injury, you would still be Horatio. You would still possess a mind that humbles my own and an integrity that puts me to shame."

He paused as he saw the tears beginning to run silently down the sharply angled cheekbones, the dark eyes still fixed on some point in the sky.

"You are the only person in my life I've loved. You are the only person I've ever shared my body with. You are the only one I've ever felt anything for." He turned his face, looking at his lover, his eyes still wet with the tears. "My Edward." He was fumbling for his handkerchief when Pellew handed him his own. Using it, he was about to return it when the Captain laughed.

"Will you never learn not to return a used handkerchief without having it laundered?"

"I always forget, don't I?" He was finally smiling.

"Horatio, it will be all right. I give you my word on that."

Standing and taking Edward's hand, he nodded. "Dinner should be ready, shall we go in?"

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