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Horatio made his way through the halls of the palace, unnoticed by almost everyone. A few of the servants that he’d made friends with over his short time Elsinore gave him a nod before continuing on with their work. He could tell which people had been assigned to be an unofficial search party by the way they darted through the halls, poking their heads into rooms and around shadowy corners. If anyone had asked, he could’ve told them they were wasting their time, but no one did and so he didn’t either.
The missing parties were right where he’d left them: curled up on his bed in a small nest of blankets they’d gathered from various locations. It looked like Ophelia had finally fallen asleep, half curled in Hamlet’s lap while he stroked her hair. Horatio set down the food he’d snuck out of the kitchen and kicked his shoes off before tucking himself against Hamlet’s side with an arm around his shoulders.
“How is she?” He whispered.
“Not good. But she’s hanging in there.”
“How are you ?”
Hamlet just gave him a sad smile in response.
“I managed to get in touch with Laertes. He’s still on his way but hopes to be here tomorrow afternoon. You should try to eat.”
“I don’t know if I can.” Hamlet sighed and rested his head on Horatio’s chest. “I feel sick about this whole thing. She never should’ve been involved.”
“We can’t change the past. Right now the best we can hope for is to make it through the present.”
“You never should’ve been involved either,” Hamlet said absently, apparently not hearing him.
“Hey, look at me.” Horatio nudged Hamlet until they locked eyes. “I chose to come here. I chose to stay. I'm afraid it’s far too late to get rid of me now.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Hamlet’s forehead. “Rest. Then both of you should eat. After that, we’ll figure out the next step.”
“There’s so much still to do. So much left to face. How are we going to deal with it all?”
“Together. Just a little bit at a time.”