"You mentioned Dev or Fletch, do you have a preference of any of them? Or against? Oh—it is Devlin with a D right? Not Tevlin with a T? I'm suddenly having flashbacks to Daw and Taw again."

Theo continued to smile back. "I love you. I love saying your name and knowing I'm allowed to."

Fletch didn't smile. He didn't reply to Theo's quip. Nevertheless, the weight visibly eased from his face and shoulders. He hadn't realized how much of a relief it would be. How warm it would sound coming from Theo, even as his father's name rolled off the man's tongue. "You know...I haven't heard that from someone else in so long. But I think I like it when you say it."

He offered a sad half smile and nodded his head. "I'm sorry I don't know how to banish ghosts. If you figure it out though I wouldn't say no to learning."

His eyes dropped to follow Fletcher's gaze. He'd noticed the bracelet before but had honestly not paid it much mind. He had his own jewelry but there was something about the way his bodyguard looked at it now that made Theo suspect at its significance. It reminded the man of his husband. A gift perhaps? Or something that had once belonged to him? Either way it was important to Fletcher and so Theo wisely dared not ask. Nor, he resolved, would he ever ask the man to remove it for Theo's sake. 

"Anything," he uttered earnestly. Then his look of hopefulness turned to genuine, gentle joy. "My Devlin Fletcher."

Theo's smile broke out into a soft giggle as a thought struck him. "Peas in a pod. Archer and Fletcher."

"Theo, there's nothing to forgive," Fletch said aloud. "There never is. You don't need to fix anything or make anything right. You've done nothing wrong. He's just haunting me. That's all. Stubborn bastard that he is. I..."

Fletch brushed his fingers over the bracelet without even thinking. He looked down at it: that weightless manacle. How long would he wear it? How long would he hold onto this? He hated it more and more each day, but it still didn't feel like it was time to let it go. Not quite yet. But there was something else that he could be free from. Something to reclaim.

"There is one thing," he said as his eye returned to Theo. "Call me my name. My real name."

"Oh, my Jack," he sighed softly in deep sympathy and concern. "No, my love. You're not hurting me. We're alright if you can forgive me and I'm not hurting you either. All I need is this. I need to know when I hurt you so that I can stop and not do it again. And I hear you. You need me to back off when you say back off like now. But, how do I make this right and fix this for you? How do I put you more at ease? Should we slow down?"

"And it's not forced now," Fletch said. "I'm saying it because I need you to know it after what I've done today. I need you to see it."

He leaned forward, burying his creased face in his hands and rubbing away the anguish. He ran his fingers back across his head. "I don't know what to do anymore," he said to the floor. "I don't know where to go from here." Theo's words echoed in his mind: that Fletch was hurting him. That he needed to stop. Could he stop? Was this enough, or would he just keep making the same mistake?

He straightened and then fell back and slumped against the chair. His signing came slowly and haltingly. "Am I still hurting you? I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to make it right. Tell me how to make it right."

He sighed. "We're hurting men trying to survive in a world that doesn't allow much for healing. What I deserve and what you are, are the same: a good man. Being good and being broke are different things. So...instead of us saying we'll be better...maybe we can...maybe we can work on healing."

Theo allowed the other man his peace as he sat and held his book open in his lap. The words were a blur and once more he sat unreading. The difference this time though was that he wasn't staring at Fletcher but very much at the page. The book was no longer the excuse to stare but the excuse not to until the other man moved.

"I love you too," he replied immediately and without any hesitation. "We're going to be okay. We're okay. You don't have to say it again until you're ready. I know it was forced out of you and I'm sorry."

Fletch let his hand slide from his face and fall to his lap. He gazed mournfully over at his friend. His love. "Thank you," he choked through a throat tight with grief. "I'm sorry too. I am. You see what you're getting yourself into, now, don't you? The full of it. Why I wasn't ready. It's not good, Theo. You're a decent man. You deserve better. No — don't...don't argue with me on that. It's true."

He shut his eye tight as another wave washed over him and threatened to pull him under. When he opened it again, he'd clawed some of his calm back. He tried to say something else and stopped. Hurt flashed across his features again. But he pushed past it and signed it nonetheless. "I love you. I really do."

He nodded, sad but not hurt that his offer had been rejected. "Thank you for sharing your wishes," he replied instead. Theo collected a cloth square and placed it on the table beside Fletcher's chair to wipe his face with before retreating back to the other side of the fire.

"We both made mistakes and I'm sorry for my part in them. Take the time you need. I'll sit quiet and let you do what you need to."

Fletch glanced back at Theo, still very much a hurting mess. He shook his head sadly and slowly. "No. If you do me one kindness, please. Just. Let me breathe. I can't take this right now. I'll...I'll stop being such a colossal arse, but...I can't have you pulling me in and then digging the way that you do. And the closer we get, the more I have to...to face that this is what it's supposed to be. And that he never..."

He swallowed, face contorting, and bent to hold a hand over his eye. It was as much as he could bear to say aloud.