Even now, Archie doesn't know just what he'd been thinking, welcoming the new midshipman aboard, helping him get settled in, and all the while never breathing a word of warning about what awaited him. Perhaps it had just been the look on Hornblower's face as he'd climbed up from the boat and onto the ship - anxious and overwhelmed and more than a little nervous, of course, as Archie knows he himself had been - but hopeful and excited all the same, all innocence and optimism and pride in his brand-new uniform, embarking on a brand-new adventure. He simply hadn't had the heart to crush his dreams so quickly, to do anything but soothe the newcomer's nerves as best he could - get a smile out of him, if at all possible, and pray that it wouldn't all come crashing down the moment Jack entered the cabin.
It had, of course, and worse than even Archie had foreseen. He always seems to forget, when Jack's out of sight, just how horrible the other man can be. Somehow he'd made himself believe that Horatio would be all right, that it was something in Archie personally that offended him so, that their newest midshipman would be - safe. Untouchable. He'd only just come aboard, and been nothing but deferential and eager to prove himself; what fault could even Jack find in that?
Now, seeing Horatio's chest battered with bruises, his noble face so swollen as to be almost unrecognizable, Archie fancies he can feel every ounce of Jack's longstanding hatred for him turned in upon himself. He should have done something, he should have known -
He hadn't even lifted a finger to stop him. Hadn't been able to so much as look Horatio in the eye as he'd explained it - the way of things.
He does his best to smile back, weak, apologetic, but it vanishes almost immediately as he steps closer and sees the full extent of Hornblower's injuries. It's worse than he'd thought.
"My God, Horatio..." He trails off, staring in slack horror. All that, and then hours in the rigging, the cold, harsh rain beating down on him? It's a wonder he hadn't collapsed long before now. "My God, what's he done to you?"
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It had, of course, and worse than even Archie had foreseen. He always seems to forget, when Jack's out of sight, just how horrible the other man can be. Somehow he'd made himself believe that Horatio would be all right, that it was something in Archie personally that offended him so, that their newest midshipman would be - safe. Untouchable. He'd only just come aboard, and been nothing but deferential and eager to prove himself; what fault could even Jack find in that?
Now, seeing Horatio's chest battered with bruises, his noble face so swollen as to be almost unrecognizable, Archie fancies he can feel every ounce of Jack's longstanding hatred for him turned in upon himself. He should have done something, he should have known -
He hadn't even lifted a finger to stop him. Hadn't been able to so much as look Horatio in the eye as he'd explained it - the way of things.
He does his best to smile back, weak, apologetic, but it vanishes almost immediately as he steps closer and sees the full extent of Hornblower's injuries. It's worse than he'd thought.
"My God, Horatio..." He trails off, staring in slack horror. All that, and then hours in the rigging, the cold, harsh rain beating down on him? It's a wonder he hadn't collapsed long before now. "My God, what's he done to you?"