Chapter Text
It often starts out the exact same way, Jedediah standing. Standing in a meadow, all tall grass and dancing waves of wind. The warm kiss of the sun against his face, like an embrace from a person that is meant to be there but refuses to stay. The scent of dry earth after the first rain in months. Alone to himself on land new to him, enjoying the slightly cooler air.
And this day in particular, it ends with the bad. Jedediah standing amidst the dust, trying but failing to retrieve his revolver. The bullet flying through his chest as his back is still turned. Blood seeping through his vest and spilling down into the dirt at his boots. A cry ripping from his chest as he wails for someone who isn’t there but should be to save him. The harsh press of the sun that now seems to curse his presence. The embrace of the sand surrounding as he stumbles and falls into it, never to get up again.
——
The day often starts the same. Octavius takes a metal carver to a flat piece of clay, as always, marking down the day's progress. His men surrounding him with encouragement for the war. One of his closest companions sliding closer.
“When are you planning to take your pick for a partner, General? There are thousands here who would die for the opportunity.”
Octavius brings himself to smile at the idea. “When I shall meet the right companion, I will take him as my own. But for the meantime I would rather plan this war.”
Days stretch on forever, nights and days in the sun. Coastlines and tall roman cities. Chariots and flames. War and blood spilled by his own sword. But Octavius does not meet that man he is considered prudish for not having. Because he finds himself weakening, until he is left to die on some bed, entirely alone. Closing his eyes and gripping the mattress until he has no strength left within his fingers, no strength left anywhere. Before everything fades he wonders to himself if this would've been less painful if only he had managed to share his soul with another.
-------
Jedediah opens his eyes again, met with a lookout of a small cliff. Where he wakes up alone but surrounded by others, every single night.
Octavius opens his eyes, sword held aloft as he stands by the statue, a roman city around him. Soldiers lined up in the streets. Where he wakes up alone but surrounded by others, every single night.
Both men turn to the glass case trapping them in their dioramas, and start walking. The glass doors swing open, and they are the first figurines from their nightly spot. And the first thing they do is embrace; night has come and they are no longer alone.
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“Jedediah!”
“Octavius!”
The roman’s hand is brought up, fingers lacing together with Jedediah’s hair. It is obvious that Octavius has had a rough day, but he says nothing, and neither does Jedediah. They are only pleased to be in one another’s company again.
“Shall we go find the Night Guard?” Octavius asks, a sweet smile on his face. Jedediah cannot bring himself to answer for some time, considering the general’s face in front of him. Here he is, the same man that risked life and limb to free him from his sandy grave, and yet Jedediah fails to understand his feelings in this. How to show them, give Octavius everything he wants to give. How to ask him to remove that helmet again as he had done in order to save him.
“Jedediah, did you not hear me?”
“Oh-- yes. Sounds like a plan, kosambe. Lead the way.” Jedediah ties his lasso to the nearest sturdy surface and tosses it down. “After you.”
Octavius grabs the long length of rope and gets ready to slide down it as they do nightly. “You only ask me to go first so if we should fall again you plan to land atop me?”
“What? No, that armors sharper than a bull’s horns after a blood rain. I’m just bein’ polite.”
“Ah.. what a.. nice change.”
-------
Octavius walks alongside his friend. The Night Guard took their car some weeks ago when his son asked for it back for a while. So for the meantime they walk, which is slow business but meaningful all the same. If he must walk, Octavius is glad it is with Jedediah. His hand twitches, wishing to reach for the cowboy’s hand and swing it as he walks. But Jedediah is either oblivious to that silent hope or does not wish to participate.
A figure of kindness stands in front of them; one incredibly tall horse and his boots laced up professionally. Teddy Roosevelt. One of the most responsible exhibits, and one that Larry trusts many duties to. Seeing him greet them is either a sign of a busy night or a kind goodnight.
“Hello my little gentlemen. How is night treating you thus far?”
Jedediah shrugs, then brings his hands to his hips in a way that makes Octavius press the sides of his helmet closer to his jawline. “Wouldn't know--just made our way from the hall of miniatures. So haven't seen what everyone is up to.”
“Well that is why I am here, isn't it? I require the assistance of Octavius for something. Dreadfully sorry to separate the both of you.”
Octavius is shocked by the news. This talk from Teddy usually means one of the pair is in trouble, and it is almost always Jedediah. He worries over the idea that he has somehow displeased the Night Guard. But he does not protest, crawling onto the hand of the waiting American president. Leaving Jedediah there on the tile by his lonesome.
“Did I do something wrong?” Octavius questions, turning to Teddy after he can no longer see his cowboy in the distance.
“Nothing my fellow general! Only the others wish to speak to you.”
----
Octavius is placed onto a small pillow atop of the Night Guard’s desk. Larry looks more mischievous than usual, so clearly the night is not off to a horrid start. Alongside the guard are many others, Ahkmenrah, Sacajawea, Teddy.
“What is all this show for? Has something happened?” Octavius removes his helmet to give respect to the others in front of him.
“Indeed something has happened. Something only the Night Guard and yourself can relay. The Pharaoh speaks up in his smooth voice.
Larry rests his elbows against the desk and leans forward, a smile at his lips. “I can tell this story. See, when we had our debut at the Smithsonian, Jedediah was placed in a position of danger. And our favorite roman general here was the one to truly pitch in and save the day. Without him, Jedediah may not be with us.”
Octavius feels his face flush as the others thank him and praise his actions. It hadn’t been anything heroic, really. He had seen Jedediah give up, the end in his blue eyes. Still joking even in his final minutes. It had been more than unbearable, and Octavius had used that growing panic within him to free the cowboy.
“Yes. Well-- I have done just as any other friend would have done..”
“Really?” Larry lifts a hand and begins counting events on his fingers. “First you recognize the danger Jedediah was placed in at your leaving--and you proceeded to tame a squirrel, recruit the Lincoln memorial, ride said squirrel and ally into battle, and then smash an entire hourglass with your own helmet?”
“Perhaps I took it a few steps more valiantly.”
Teddy shakes his head. “It was truly a show of passion, breaking that glass with the strength you normally would not possess. Almost if it had been more important than a friend.”
“What is this all about!?” Octavius in frustration shoves his helmet back overtop his silvering hair.
Larry puts a hand to his chin. “Octavius just like it is with Teddy and ‘Wea, as Night Guard I am required to know the relationships forming between exhibits. What is going on between the two of you?”
“I fail to understand what you imply.” He scoffs.
“That was love if I have ever seen it. I may be divorced but I was once in love, and I would have done anything for that person. Are you and Jedediah romantically involved?”
The memory flashes before Octavius, of dying alone and without ever having truly loved another. His constant daydream when he cannot move in the light. His soldiers once asking him if he would ever take a man companion, only for him to admit his hesitation in finding no one perfect. But when morning comes his mind is always the same; Jedediah’s tempting hand unreachable. His efforts going unheard repeatedly, somehow always lost in Jedediah’s blonde locks before it can reach the cowboy’s ears. Yet somehow everyone else has managed to notice his obvious feelings for his companion and rival, and are interviewing him on it.
He brings a hand up to shield his face. “I know nothing you speak of.”
“Octavius don't act oblivious, Jed has enough of that for the two of you. Even if the both of you are not together as of now, that does not erase the clear feelings you’re fighting.” Larry smiles.
“I do not have feelings for Jedediah.”
Ahkmenrah chimes in. “I have seen you watching him several times with a face of pure adoration.”
Octavius throws his arms in the air, face bright red in humiliation. “Yes! I long for sweet Jedediah with all my heart. He has filled a void I did not believe could be plugged. I often thought I would forever be on my lonesome until I truly met Jedediah as a person.”
There's a round of awww from the group of giants. Teddy and Sacajawea hold one another’s hands and lean their foreheads together as if they were listening to an adorable story.
“It is not sweet! That— that cowboy is thicker than a clay tablet! And even if I admitted this he could never long for me back…” Octavius rubs the back of his neck self consciously. “Not to mention the men..”
The Night Guard facepalms at that. “Octavius, everybody inside the Rome and Wild West dioramas have been making bets on this. They know.”
“I AM A DISGRACE! I— I am a general it is not proper for me to hold such a— a— plebeian to this esteem!”
“That is not a great strategy- calling your desired such an insult amongst your people.” Ahkmenrah sighs.
“He is a wild man! I should not—“ in a huff, Octavius leaves the group behind. All of them giggling at the miniature’s embarrassment behind his back.
In honesty, it would not be unheard of for Octavius to romance a man such as Jedediah. But those relationships were often of the forced variety, for the benefit of only the highly esteemed. He would never force Jedediah into such a courtship; never wish for him to help carry the baggage that being a general entailed.
If Jedediah asked him to, he would walk off of a table. And if he asked Octavius to never speak to him, their friendship ruined, he would listen.
But when he sees the golden-haired man from across the way, his heart flutters like a clawed bird threatening to betray him.
———
“Ahk, can I ask a question partner?” Jedediah removes his hat, craning his neck back to face the giant.
“Of course you can, my friend, please sit.”
There’s a creeping silence.
“Ah— short—yes.” The pharaoh stoops to help the cowboy to the table's surface. “What is it you need?”
“Ahk is there any chance y’also see visions?”
The pharaoh smiles. “Have you and Octavius been drinking fine Roman wines? People do not see visions in most circumstances.”
“No. I mean… as in.. before your death, if’y get what I mean?” Jedediah looks at his spurs in anxiety.
“… Jedediah— have you been-“
“It’s just every day I’m back home. But the memories of home— and all too sudden I’m back here like a cow during feedin’ time. Wake up in the Wild West diorama”
The Pharaoh seems concerned. “It is not uncommon, in those hours between life at night and the sunrise, that exhibits such as ourselves see our memories. I too have experienced this..”
“Daily?”
“Not so often, no. But perhaps there is another reason here, no? Have you been particularly stressed?”
“Well.. sometimes no, sometimes sure as a saddle.”
“And what is it that plagues your miniature life my dear friend?”
Jedediah’s tongue catches between his teeth, moments away from spilling his hidden feelings. That tucked away fact that everytime he awakens his first thought is Octavius in the diorama next to his own. Exactly how long it’ll take to open the glass cases; hellbent on spending as much time as possible by the Roman’s side.
“It—“ His mouth falters, air catching in his lungs. Surely the Pharaoh would understand? But if he doesn’t, and Jedediah’s feelings are spread to Octavius? Would the Roman turn from him? Tell him he wished he had never broken the hourglass?
“I— I need’a go now. Thanks for the answers.”
“Jedediah, you needn't hide from—“
But the cowboy doesn’t turn around, kicking a pencil off the table as he walks away, hating himself for even considering admitting his feelings.