Chapter Text
Ahkmenrah wasn’t sure how he felt about Teddy. President Roosevelt? Calling the man Teddy felt wrong for a long time when it was the president’s voice that haunted him. Mocked him. Told him to give up fighting because he’d already lost.
Because he was never escaping his coffin.
After Ahk’s first night of freedom he wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed out again.
(The pure relief when Larry came and unlatched the sarcophagus that following night had nearly brought him to his knees.)
It was weeks before he relaxed near Larry and some of the exhibits, but even then it felt like there was an uncomfortable distance between Ahk and the president. Ahk felt guilty over it, but couldn’t make himself initiate any attempt at reconciliation. He knew he was being ridiculous. After all, the other exhibits liked and even admired Teddy and Sacagawea loved him, so he certainly couldn’t be that bad.
But none of that mattered to his racing heart and his shaking hands and his tight skin. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it in his head he’d always try to avoid Teddy, growing shy and meek whenever the president was near. Nothing like the strong pharaoh he was meant to be.
He was nothing but a worthless coward.
That fact shamed him, but he was able to ignore it, most of the time. (Like a weakling.) His life wasn’t all bad, now. He was able to enjoy most nights, find a sense of peace and sometimes even have a little fun. Each night was eventful, learning to trust and depend on the people he shared his home and life with was a task all on its own. Every piece of his support network meant more than he would ever be able to articulate, though. He was grateful for the museum’s acceptance, grateful for the chances they gave him to prove his worth.
Like now, standing with a chief who resided in the Hall of African Peoples. Finding that there were other people in the museum from his continent had been like a breath of fresh air. He always enjoyed the time spent here, learning about other African cultures.
But now, now he wished he was somewhere else, somewhere alone or even with Sacagawea or maybe Larry. Just so he could break down, regain his breath, stop the trembling he could feel spreading from his chest to his hands. If he wasn’t dead already he was sure he’d be dropping from a heart attack right now. He wasn’t even sure exactly what set him off this time. It was just one of those nights when everything felt wrong and the lights were too bright and the walls too close and he just wanted to curl up and cry like a weak, helpless child. But he wasn’t a child. He led a nation, one of the most powerful of his time. He didn’t need comfort (he did) and he couldn’t break. Shouldn’t.
In the spirit of that notion, instead of hiding away like he wanted to, (like he used to when he was first adjusting to his freedom), he had made his usual rounds.
He was beginning to regret that decision.
Now he was trapped here, unable to even excuse himself. Words were impossible and the walls were closing in and somehow, despite being free and unbound, Ahk could feel the constriction of his wrappings. The large, bright room was no better than his godforsaken coffin and attaining air here was as difficult as it was in his grave.
He was brought back to the present by a large, firm hand on the crook of his elbow. If he wasn’t so caught up in wondering how he’d fallen into his sarcophagus unawares he would have flinched. As it was, though, reacting to the touch took too much effort when he couldn’t even breathe.
“I’m afraid I have to borrow our pharaoh for a moment, lads. Pardon us. Ahkmenrah? Would you mind coming with me, please?”
Whether or not his answer mattered was a toss up, as Teddy didn’t wait for him to reply before gently leading him out of the room with the hand on his arm. Ahk felt Teddy’s other palm alight on his back, steadying him as they moved from the too-crowded space to a quiet, unoccupied portion of the museum.
Finally– finally –he could draw in a little air.
“That’s it, just breathe. You’re alright.” Roosevelt’s voice was far softer and gentler than Ahk had ever heard it, especially when directed at him. The hand on his back began running lightly up and down his spine, fingers around his arm grounding him. Ahk was torn between gratitude for the comfort and fear over who was offering it.
Air was a priceless commodity, he’d learned over the centuries. So much so that he was almost angry with himself for wasting some of it to ask, “W-What are you doing?”
He felt the president flinch and the hand left his back, but the grip on his arm remained. A good thing, too.
Ahk wasn’t sure he’d stay upright without it.
“Would…Would you like me to fetch someone else? Maybe Sacagawea or Lawrence?”
Ahk shook his head, eyes falling shut to block out the room, all his senses heightened until any extra stimuli was overwhelming beyond belief.
A beat of silence, then he was again being guided, slow and careful. “Come sit, son. Right over here.”
Ahk opened his eyes and saw that he was being directed to the wooden stage of an exhibit of cave paintings. At the president’s prompting he lowered himself down, Teddy taking a hesitant seat beside him, hand never releasing its hold on his arm.
“Would you like me to leave?”
Ahk blinked, the question coming out of left field, as Larry would say. He didn’t realize he had a choice, but appreciated that Teddy bothered to ask.
It took a moment for him to catch his breath, but when he did he rasped a soft, “You can stay.”
Judging by the sharp turn of Teddy’s head, the president wasn’t expecting the permission. Ahk meant it, though. While some of the tension in his frame was due to the president’s presence (which truly wasn’t fair of him), more of it was fear of being trapped, restricted, entombed.
And alone.
So, while he wasn’t positive how he should feel about Teddy being the one to ‘rescue’ him (a true pharaoh wouldn’t need rescuing), he also didn’t object to the man’s presence.
Which greatly confused President Roosevelt, made obvious by the tapping fingers of his free hand and the tense line of his jaw. Ahk would think him angry if it wasn’t for how soft and concerned those steely blue eyes were. Eyes that, in his mind, were always glaring at him. Now, however, the older man was simply worried.
About him.
A novel concept indeed.
”You’re doing well, son.” Teddy murmured soothingly, lightly squeezing his arm.
Ahk swallowed past the sandpaper lining his throat, fingers curling into loose fists before releasing. Squeezing on the air that had abandoned him in his time of need.
“I-I thank you…for getting me out of there, Sir.” The words were quiet and rough, but he didn’t have to repeat them, judging by the tightened hold on his arm. Not nearly enough to hurt, but the pressure caught his attention regardless.
”There’s no need to be so formal with me, my boy.” Teddy chided gently, continuing, “And you’re welcome, though I hardly require thanks. It’s what any decent person would’ve done.”
Ahkmenrah huffed something that was a cross between amusement and annoyance. Would Teddy say the same thing about Larry opening his sarcophagus, now that the deed had been done?
Teddy’s hand left sharply, as if the man could hear his thoughts, and Ahk flinched. Despite his rocky relationship with Teddy, the touch had been grounding and helpful.
“You don’t care for me much, do you, Ahkmenrah?” The use of his full name caught his attention.
It was the first time the president had said it since Ahk had been released from his sarcophagus.
”I…” And what could Ahk say? It wasn’t intentional, this feeling of unease he got around Teddy. The doubts, the wondering if the president’s opinion had changed since he’d been released or if he thought they’d all be better if Ahk was back in…
”Shh, you’re breathing fast again, Pharaoh. It’s alright. I’m sorry I’m causing you such distress.” Teddy visibly hesitated, hands tightening into fists in his lap while his brow furrowed, then he stood. “I feel it’s best if I go—“
”Wait!” Ahk gasped, hand haltingly reaching out. He just…he needed a chance to explain. A chance to ask if the older man still thought he was a monster.
”Please, I…I’m okay! I am!”
Teddy’s eyes narrowed and he dropped into a crouch, one gloved hand hovering above Ahk’s crumpled form before ultimately returning to his lap.
”You’re scared of me.”
Ahk’s brow furrowed, indignation briefly overwhelming his panic, and he scowled.
”I don’t fear you.” A pause to analyze the truth in that statement, then he continued, “Not necessarily.”
Teddy’s head tilted, expression melting from remorse to puzzlement.
“Pharaoh, would you be willing to elaborate? In a couple minutes? There’s no rush, my boy.”
Ahk narrowed his eyes a bit and nodded. Teddy didn’t have to handle him like glass (even though the young part of him yearned for it), he was a pharaoh. He’d commanded armies, fought battles that would make many people today sick.
The last thing he needed was pity from a man who likely hated him.
It took a little longer to calm down without the warmth of touch to remind him that he was free and safe, but he did it. Being able to breathe was a relief, but it didn’t calm the subtle tremor in his hands or the franticness of his thoughts. He needed to get them out, needed to say something.
“Pharaoh?”
“Has your opinion changed?” Was what he blurted at the prompt, flinching at his volume and clasping his hands to avoid physically covering his mouth. He hadn’t meant to ask so bluntly, had wanted to slowly draw his own conclusions based on the president’s answers to different questions. Wanted to run an interrogation where he wouldn’t hear outright that the man considered Ahkmenrah’s freedom a mistake.
There was a steady silence as Teddy watched him, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.
“My opinion on what, dear boy?” Roosevelt’s tone was still benevolent, if nothing else.
“On…On me. Do you wish Larry hadn’t…hadn’t let me out again?” Ahk braced himself for laughter, for a smirk, a smile. For all his worst fears to be confirmed.
He wasn’t in the slightest prepared for the way the president’s face creased, wax skin turning pale as the man leaned back on his heels, expression dark with horror.
“Hadn’t…Pharaoh, you don’t think I want you back in that prison, surely?”
Ahk bared his teeth a bit, eyes narrowing. His body was caught between hiding and fighting, shoulders stooped in and arms pressed tight against his chest. “Well, do you? Have I proved my worth?! Proved that I’m not dangerous?!” Ahkmenrah pulled in a deep breath to settle himself once more, internally praying that his raised voice hadn’t caught the attention of anyone else.
“Pharaoh…my dear boy, please, look at me.” Ahk hadn’t noticed when his gaze fell to the polished floor, but at the president’s pleading he lifted his head, taking in the mournful cobalt eyes staring back at him beseechingly. Teddy shifted forward, falling to his knees and offering his hands. Ahk’s eyes narrowed in a glare aimed at those beige gloves and Teddy sighed, but didn’t lower his hands.
“Pharaoh, I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry for allowing your suffering. For fifty years you called for freedom and I never so much as second-guessed my orders to keep you contained. That was a mistake on my part, Pharaoh, not something you ever deserved. You were punished for my ignorance and if I could take that away, even if I could only bear that punishment in your place, I would. So to answer your question: yes, my opinion changed on the first night Lawrence freed you. You should have never been imprisoned and as long as we share a home I refuse to allow it to happen again. I give you my word as president and as Theodore Roosevelt on that.”
For the third time in an hour Ahk was unable to breathe as he stared back at Teddy, his gaze having snapped up at the man’s first sentence. Because…no. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. People weren’t meant to apologize to him, that…it didn’t make any sense. But there was nothing in the older man’s expression that hinted at any dishonesty, his countenance was too raw, too remorseful.
Ahk opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out aside from a pathetic, strangled whimper deep in his throat. He had to get a grip, needed to act as a true pharaoh. A pharaoh does not fall apart at an apology, he expects it, commands it. But here Ahk was, a pitiful shadow of who he once was.
He was just grateful that his parents couldn’t see him now, that they didn’t know what a disgrace he had become.
“It’s alright, lad, just focus on breathing.” Teddy’s gentle voice startled him from his spiral–he wouldn’t have blamed the president for bailing when he started freaking out again–and Ahk realized that the man’s hands were still held out, palms up. Falteringly, right hand stalling in the air twice, he reached for Teddy’s hands. The president stayed mindfully still, not so much as twitching until Ahk was grasping at his hand. Only then did the older man’s fingers curl over his own, the warm pressure exactly what he needed to breathe again. He knew fair well that he would’ve never dared reach out before all the encouragement Larry and Sacagawea had given to do so, and one of his scattered thoughts was nothing but gratitude for their patience.
“You’re alright, son. I won’t leave unless you want me to. It’s alright.” Teddy spoke like he mattered, stayed here and acted like he actually cared and that was what had Ahk considering the possibility that maybe, maybe the man’s apology was truly genuine.
Maybe he had another ally in the museum.
“You…You meant what you said?” He finally gasped, because he needed to check, to make sure. Needed to hear that reassurance.
“Yes, son, I did and do. Every word. I understand if you don’t believe me quite yet, but I’ll work every night to prove myself to you. For as long as it takes.”
That was enough and his head lowered, eyes falling closed as a heave of air left him. Teddy was right, Ahk didn’t believe him just yet, couldn’t trust him entirely.
But he was willing to try.