AN: Finally posted up - the second part of Captain Mockingjay's Christmas present. And now the Hamratio is just a bit more obvious.


She felt his hurt.

It hurt her so. To hear those words that he had spoken, a figurative knife stabbed into her. It was funny enough, that she could feel such acute feelings even in death. Yet, because of how she felt about Hamlet, she could relate to how he felt.

Yes, it felt freeing and delightful when Hamlet made that display of himself in her grave. Though it was an act. It's an act. All Hamlet was to her was an act. All she was to him was an obligation. His real feelings... were locked up deep inside of him. And with careful observation on her part, only one person was able to unlock it.

And it wasn't her.

And now as she looked down on the last dying breath, only then did she finally let her tears fall in realization. Horatio, good Horatio. To live in the death of your beloved must hurt so. And he thought so too.

"Horatio, I am dead;

Thou liv'st..."

The expression on his face stabbed into her heart. He was trying to die... it must be so, for why else did he take such drastic measures?

"Here's yet some liquid left." Horatio had even brought the cup to his lips, prepared to die for the sake of his love. But Hamlet snatched it from his grasp, his expression of utter despair and desperation. 'No!' the prince screamed internally. 'It cannot be!'

"Give me the cup. Let go!" Hamlet, now in death was the truth so clear to her.

Ophelia had been so deceived.

Hamlet loved him. And in his arms he died.

"Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince,

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!"