@wingpyre said: ❝ don't say we have come now to the end. ❞
this is the most painful of all . more painful than the wound in his flesh , than the poison coursing through his veins , than returning to find his ophelia dead . ( and as much as the last stings more than any arrow , at least he will soon be reunited with her . ) ( the idea of lying in the ground forevermore is comforting to him , has always been comforting to him . ) ( a tragedy , that horatio gets no such comfort . ) but no , seeing horatio's face contorted in agony , in sorrow , as it swims in and out of focus amidst his tears , amidst hamlet's tears , amidst the years of things said and unsaid .
hamlet reaches his hand out , laces his fingers with horatio's . pulls their entwined hands up to his face , gently pressing his lips against horatio's knuckles . lets out a shaky breath ( shaky with emotion , shaky with the weakness that comes with the poison that slew him ) as another tear slides down his face . and he almost can't bear to look . almost can't bear to see the pain the actions of tonight ( the actions that were a mere stop along the course his life has been careening toward wildly ever since his uncle murdered his father ) ( although , more final than mere , as far as stops go ) have caused his oldest friend . his dearest friend . the man his soul chose , who knows him better than any other , whom he knows better than he knows himself . ( whether they were destined to be together or brought together by choice , horatio's presence in hamlet's life has changed him irrevocably . )
he wants to look away , thinks it might be easier that way . but he can't . if he is to die , he will die with horatio in his sights .
horatio may , in some ways , be his lesser , that's true . but in all other ways , in the ways that count , horatio is , and always has been , his better . and now he must live on . and oh , does hamlet understand better than perhaps anyone else the draw that the sweet release has , but he can't allow horatio that sweetness . horatio has things he needs to do ; needs to survive . ( and maybe he'll even live ; maybe he'll find moments of happiness , fleeting or otherwise . hamlet truly hopes , for his sake , that he does . ) ( if there's any man alive who deserves true happiness , it's horatio . )
❝ i'm sorry , dear friend . ❞ his words feel as hollow and raspy as his chest , as his heart . ❝ i'm afraid that i must , that we have . ❞ another kiss pressed against beloved knuckles , a silent prayer , a wish for horatio to find happiness again . ( to find love again . ) fingers squeeze once more , here at the end of things . ❝ never forget , horatio , that you are the model from which all men should be cast , that there exists not a single man who is your better . ❞ his voice softens ; he's at the end of his breath , now . ❝ never forget , dearest horatio , that i love you . ❞
